by Rita Herron
Trina...why had she helped Thad?
“The least you can do is tell me why you plan to kill me,” Rose said.
“I told you, it’s business.”
“Who hired you?”
“Stop dragging around and press the gas,” Thad said as he jammed the gun against her arm. “Your buddy isn’t going to find us and rescue you. It’s over this time.”
Panic threatened to seize Rose, but she tamped it down. “Just tell me who wants me dead and the reason. I deserve to know why I’m going to die.”
“You really don’t know?” Thad asked, his voice incredulous.
Rose shook her head. “All I know is that my name is Rose, you tried to kill me and then my parents turned up dead.” She glared at him. “Did you kill them, too?”
“The Worthingtons weren’t your parents,” Thad said in a snide tone.
“They raised me,” Rose said, clinging to that fact.
“They stole you,” Thad said.
Rose sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would they do that?”
Thad made a low sound in his throat. “They never told you about your birth parents?”
“No.”
“And you don’t remember what happened when you were five?”
Irritation spiked Rose’s anger. “No, why don’t you fill me in.”
Thad chuckled beneath his breath, a sharp sound that infuriated Rose.
“Good. If you haven’t figured out what happened, then that damn sheriff doesn’t know, either. That means I have time to kill you and escape.”
Rose’s hands tightened around the steering wheel as rage heated her blood. The bastard wasn’t going to tell her.
God help her, if she was going to die, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She’d take him with her.
She spotted a patch of trees up ahead at the bend in the road and accelerated, then swerved straight toward them as she rounded the curve.
“What the hell are you doing?” Thad tried to snatch the steering wheel, but she gripped it with all her might, gunned the engine and drove straight into the trees.
Tires screeched, glass shattered and the air bags exploded as the vehicle slammed into the massive tree trunk.
Rose’s neck snapped back, pain ricocheted through her head and the world spun into oblivion.
Chapter Sixteen
Maddox flew down the road out of town, searching each side road for the SUV.
The first three streets led to neighborhoods, not a place where Thoreau would take Rose.
Too many people around.
His mind raced with ideas of where he would go, but fear clouded his thoughts. He couldn’t let Rose die. He’d promised her he’d find answers, and he hadn’t found them yet.
But he must be on the right track or her parents wouldn’t have been murdered.
His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up. “Sheriff McCullen.”
“It’s Whitefeather. The crime team is combing the wreckage of the warehouse now. You have any idea who set off the bomb?”
“Yes,” Maddox said. “Although I don’t know the guy’s real name.” He explained about the attack on Rose and his investigation. “Thoreau has Rose, and I’m chasing them.” Or at least he hoped he was headed in the right direction. “I called an ambulance to Vintage Treasures to take care of Rose’s assistant Trina Fields. Can you follow up and let me know how she’s doing at the hospital? Rose will be upset if she doesn’t make it.”
“I’ll head over there now.”
His deputy promised to call him with an update, and Maddox noticed a dirt road leading away from civilization, one that led toward the mountains past the reservation.
Fresh tire tracks marred the dirt and gravel.
Brakes squealed as he jerked the wheel to the right and barreled onto the road. He hit a pothole and cursed, but sped forward. No telling how far ahead of him Rose and Thoreau were.
He just prayed the son of a bitch hadn’t hurt her.
Heart hammering double time, he searched left and right for other side roads or a place they could have pulled over to hide, but the land was barren, desolate, the sharp jutting ridges too far away for them to have made it there yet.
Images of Rose with that gun at her head made sweat bead on his skin. She’d been so understanding about his father, compassionate when she had her plate full of her own troubles.
He would not let her down.
A dark cloud rolled across the sky, casting shadows on the scrub brush and rocks ahead, but he spotted a cluster of trees just before a small ridge and saw the SUV had crashed into the thicket.
God, please don’t let Rose be dead.
He accelerated, his gaze scanning the area to see if they were inside the car or outside on foot.
Thoreau could have already killed her and be dumping her body in the bushes.
Forcing that image from his mind, he drew his gun as he neared the SUV. Suddenly the driver’s door opened, and Rose tumbled out. Thoreau pushed her and climbed out behind her, his face red with rage.
Maddox threw the car into Park, jumped out and ran toward them. Thoreau staggered. Rose stumbled, then collapsed onto the ground on her hands and knees.
Thoreau grabbed the back of her hair and pushed her head down to her knees, forcing her to curl against her legs in submission. Rose screamed and tried to pull his hands from her hair, but Thoreau jammed his foot onto her back to keep her still, then pressed the gun to her head.
Maddox saw red. The bastard couldn’t kill her.
Without hesitating, he raised his weapon and aimed. His lungs strained for air. If he missed, Thoreau would fire and Rose would be dead.
But if he didn’t fire...she’d be dead anyway.
Forcing himself to focus, he reminded himself that he was a sharp shooter. He’d always won the skeet competitions and shooting contests, which had pissed off Brett and Ray.
A tremor in his hand threatened, but Rose cried out again, and he cursed and fired.
One bullet and he hit the bastard in the temple. Thoreau’s body jerked in shock and tilted sideways, his gun skittering from his hand as he fell to the ground.
Maddox gritted his teeth, praying Rose was all right as he sprinted toward them. He kept his weapon trained on Thoreau, alert for any sign of movement.
When he reached the man, he kicked Thoreau’s gun several feet away, then kneeled and checked his pulse. Nothing. His eyes were wide open in the shock of death.
Relieved the man was dead, he shoved Thoreau off Rose. She was crunched over, face down, her body still. Blood soaked the back of her blouse and hair.
Terror seized him.
Had Thoreau fired a shot before he’d died?
Maddox’s breath stalled in his chest, and he leaned closer and brushed Rose’s hair away from her neck. Her body trembled slightly. She was alive.
He didn’t see a bullet wound in the back of her head, so where had the blood come from? From Thoreau?
“Rose, honey, talk to me. Are you hurt?”
Slowly she lifted her head just enough for him to see the shock in her eyes.
He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “He’s dead, Rose, it’s over.”
A small sob escaped her and then she crumpled against him. He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to his car, determined to get her as far away as possible from the man who’d almost taken her life.
* * *
TIME BLURRED FOR ROSE Rose as Maddox pulled her against him. The numbness that had overcome her when she thought she was about to die had subsided, and now she couldn’t stop trembling.
“Shh, it’s okay, Rose,” Maddox murmured. “You’re safe. He can’t hurt you ever again.”
Her head swirled with random thoughts. Thad wasn’t the only one who wanted her dead. He’d said it was business.
Someone had paid him to kill her.
But who? And why?
The sound of a siren rent the air, and she closed her eyes, willing away the images of th
at tree coming toward the car. She’d hoped when they crashed that she’d survive and escape.
But Thad had stirred first and then she’d felt his hands on her and that gun...
“Rose,” Maddox said against her ear. “The ambulance is on its way.”
She looked at him through a daze, but noticed he had cuts on his face. He’d also limped when he’d carried her to the car. He smelled like smoke and his hand was red, as if it was burned.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered as reality broke through her own shock.
“The call from Baxter was a setup,” he said in a gruff voice. “No one was there.”
Rose glanced down at his torn shirt, at the blood on his sleeve. “What happened?”
“I went to search the warehouse, but it exploded.”
“My God,” Rose gasped. “Maddox, someone tried to kill you.”
“It was an ambush,” he said darkly. “Did Thoreau say anything when he was holding you?”
“Just that it was business to him.” She swallowed hard. “Business, as if it didn’t bother him to take a life.”
“Hit men are trained to be coldhearted,” Maddox said. “But you survived, Rose, that’s all that matters right now.”
She nodded against him, so exhausted from the ordeal that she closed her eyes and leaned against him. The ambulance arrived, doors slamming as the medics got out.
But Thad’s cold voice taunted her. He’d confirmed the fact that the Worthingtons weren’t her birth parents.
So who were they and what had happened to them?
* * *
MADDOX HAD NO remorse over shooting Thoreau.
Except for the fact that Thoreau hadn’t talked first. He needed to know who the hell the man had been working for.
On the heels of the ambulance, the ME arrived and Maddox left Rose to be examined while he spoke with Lail.
“Who is the dead man?” Dr. Lail asked.
“He claimed his name was Thad Thoreau, but I think that’s an alias. He was a hired gunman.”
“I’ll run his DNA and prints through the system and look at dental records. I’ll let you know when I have something concrete.”
“I hope you find something. My search on the prints turned up nothing.”
Maddox thanked her, then hurried to check on Rose. The medics were treating her for shock, and she was bruised from the air bag deploying, but she refused to go to the hospital, so they had her sign a waiver.
“You need to look at the sheriff,” she told one of the medics. “He’s hurt worse than I am.”
Maddox shrugged off her concern, but one of the medics looked at his hand and insisted they treat his injuries.
“How is Trina?” Rose asked as they cleaned the cuts on his face.
“My deputy was supposed to go to the store, then follow up with her at the hospital. I haven’t heard back yet.”
“You need an X-ray for the leg?” the medic asked.
“No, it’s just bruised.” Maddox assured them they could leave, then he helped Rose into his car.
“Take me to the hospital,” Rose said. “I need to see Trina and find out what she had to do with Thad.”
“What do you mean?”
Pain etched Rose’s face. “Apparently she helped him find me.”
Maddox narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“She didn’t explain,” Rose said. “That’s why I need to talk to her. I just hope...that she makes it.”
So did he. Maybe she could fill in the blanks.
“Did Thoreau admit who he was working for?”
“No, he just laughed at me,” Rose said bitterly. “He said he was glad you hadn’t figured out the truth yet. He thought...that he was going to kill me and escape.”
“So he was definitely working with someone and trying to cover up the past.” Maddox laid his hand over hers as he drove. “We got Thoreau. We’ll learn the truth about who’s behind this, too.”
She nodded although she still looked far too pale for comfort. Seconds later, she closed her eyes and lapsed into silence as he drove toward the hospital. He’d thought she might have fallen asleep, but as soon as he parked at the hospital, she unbuckled her seat belt and slid from the car.
Together they walked inside. Maddox’s deputy met them in the waiting room. “She’s in surgery,” Deputy Whitefeather said.
Maddox folded his arms. “What’s her condition?”
The deputy shrugged his wide shoulders. “They haven’t told me anything. They were wheeling her to the OR when I arrived.”
Maddox gestured for Rose to sit down. “Will you get her some coffee and stay with her? I’m going to talk to one of the nurses.”
Whitefeather nodded, stepped over to the coffee machine and poured Rose a cup of coffee. He handed it to Rose and claimed the chair beside her, while Maddox stopped at the nurses’ station, introduced himself and explained the situation. “Do you have an update on Ms. Fields’s condition?”
“I’ll check.” The nurse made a call, her brows furrowed, then looked at him when she hung up. “The doctor is almost finished. The bullet pierced her abdomen, but missed major organs, so she should pull through. She’s in recovery but it’ll be a few hours before you can see her.”
“Thanks.” Maddox went to tell Rose.
Relief echoed in her sigh when he shared the news. “I’m glad she’ll make it. But I deserve to know the reason she helped Thad. If...she knew what he planned.”
A muscle ticked in Maddox’s jaw. “If she did, I’ll arrest her for being an accomplice to attempted murder.”
His phone buzzed, and he checked the number—the Marshals Service, where he’d left a message the night before. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”
He grabbed a cup of coffee for himself, then stepped back outside. “This is Sheriff McCullen.”
“Yes, this is US Marshal Norton. You left a message last night asking about a man named Baxter.”
“Yes.” Maddox explained the situation with Thoreau and Rose. “I received a phone call from Baxter regarding a current investigation in Pistol Whip, but when I went to meet him, he didn’t show, and the warehouse where we were supposed to meet exploded. CSI is searching the area in case Baxter was there, but I suspect Thoreau posed as Baxter and set a trap for me, that the bomb was meant to kill me so he could get to Rose.”
“You’re probably right,” Norton said. “We don’t have a Baxter on our roster.”
Damn. “Listen, Marshal Norton, I think Rose Worthington might have been kidnapped as a little girl, that her birth parents either died or entered WITSEC and disappeared.”
“I’ll check into that.”
“I also suspect that she might have witnessed a crime and that’s the reason someone is after her now.”
“Go on.”
“Thoreau had a flyer with a photo of a little girl about four or five on it. The girl disappeared about twenty years ago. He seemed to think Rose was this little girl. I asked the tech team to search for children who went missing about that age twenty years ago.”
“Any word on it?”
“Not yet.”
“Let me look at our case files,” Norton said. “I can speed the process along. Where is Thoreau?”
“The medical examiner is transporting his body to the morgue. Identifying him might help us determine who he was working for.” He explained about finding the Worthingtons dead. “I suspect they were using an alias.”
“I’ll coordinate with the ME and put a rush on the DNA tests, then get back with you ASAP.”
He hung up and Maddox returned to Rose. “That was the real US Marshal. He’s going to help us now.”
Rose acknowledged his comment with a slight nod, but Maddox’s phone buzzed—it was Devon Littleton at the lab. “Sheriff McCullen.”
“Sheriff, I finally identified the couple you found at the Worthington house. Their real names were Lloyd and Millie Curtain. At one time, they also went by the last name Kern.”
“What e
lse?”
“They were wanted for questioning in regards to a possible money-laundering scheme but disappeared twenty years ago without a word to anyone.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rose wanted to speak to Trina, but the doctor insisted that she be sedated, so she’d be incoherent for hours.
“I locked up Vintage Treasures when the ambulance left with Ms. Fields,” Deputy Whitefeather said.
“Thank you. I guess I need to go by and clean up.” She heaved a weary breath. Trina’s blood would be on the floor...
“I’ll send a crime cleanup team to take care of it,” Maddox said as he approached.
His protective tone touched something deep inside her.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” He glanced at his deputy. “Stay here and guard Trina Fields’s room just in case Thoreau’s accomplice decides that she might know something valuable and try to silence her.”
Rose tensed. She hadn’t considered the fact that Trina might still be in danger. If she only knew why the young woman had helped Thad... Had they been romantically involved? Had he paid Trina?
And who did Thad work for?
“Also, call me when she wakes up,” Maddox said. “I need to question her about Thoreau.”
Whitefeather agreed, and Maddox touched Rose’s arm to help her up. She seemed shaky as they walked out to his car. A strained silence fell between them as he drove to her house.
When they arrived, he insisted she stay in the car until he searched the rooms. She twisted her hands together while she waited. A few days ago, she’d thought she had a future with someone who loved her.
Now she was running for her life, had lost the only two people she knew as family and was questioning everything about her life and her past.
Maddox stepped to the porch and motioned that the house was safe, and she dragged herself out and walked up the steps.
Evening shadows streaked his rugged face, the cuts and bruises stark. His tattered clothes, the blood on his shirt, the stench of smoke—all of it was a reminder of the horror in her life.
Yet even bruised and battered with dirt on his hands and clothes, he looked incredibly handsome and strong, as if his arms offered the sanctuary she desperately needed tonight.
* * *