Paul’s restraints were downright pitiful. All it took was a couple of quick, sharp tugs for Dylan to bring the shower rod crashing down. He slid belt and tie over the end and off. That loosened them enough for him to work his hands completely free. He was already racing from the room as he slipped the second tie over his head and jerked the wadded-up handkerchief from his mouth.
The sound of the gunshot and the shower rod crashing had stirred enough of the other guests to bring a small crowd into the parking lot.
“Which way did they go?” Dylan shouted. “The man and the little boy? Which way did they turn?”
The proprietor ignored him and rushed toward the room. He gasped when he spotted the bullet hole. “Somebody’s going to have to pay for the damage.”
“Take it out of the fifty I already gave you,” Dylan snapped. He turned to one of the guests who looked wide-awake, but not especially terrified. “Did you see which way they turned?”
“West,” the man said. “Should we call the police?”
“I’ll do it,” Dylan said. Of course, it wouldn’t be the local police he’d be calling, but Justin. He punched in the number of his cell phone as he turned onto the highway.
“Sheriff’s Department,” Becky responded.
“Becky, it’s Dylan. Can you get Justin for me?”
“He’s on the road. I can’t patch you through, but I can get him on the radio and relay messages,” she said.
Dylan was impressed with the fact that she wasted no time. Clearly she grasped that Dylan wasn’t calling just to chat. When she added, “I heard you were shot,” he understood why.
“Not me,” he corrected, “but the ceiling took a hit.”
“Bad aim?”
“Nope, deliberate torture for Kelsey.”
“What a creep!” she murmured, then said, “Okay, Dylan, I’ve got Justin. What do you want me to tell him?”
Dylan described his location and the car Paul was driving. “He’s headed west toward the meeting place. He has Bobby and he has a gun. I’m maybe ten minutes behind him. Depending on how fast he’s driving, I may catch up.”
“Ten-four,” Becky said briskly, then repeated the information to Justin. “Dylan, he wants you to stay clear. He has plenty of men to handle it. They’re already in place. Back off. Do you read me?”
Dylan read her loud and clear, but he created the sound of static on the line, then deliberately hung up. There was no way in hell he was staying out of this now. It had gotten personal back there in that motel room.
Besides, he’d promised Kelsey that he would deliver Bobby safe and sound and he intended to do just that. This maverick streak of his had kept him from becoming a cop. But he also had sense enough to know what he could handle and what he couldn’t. He could handle Paul James, especially now that he’d learned the hard way not turn his back on him. He accelerated and kept his gaze fixed intently on the highway ahead of him.
There was a turnoff about eight miles ahead that would head toward Los Pin˜os. He guessed from Kelsey’s earlier remark that the meeting point was about five miles beyond the turn. That gave him thirteen miles—or about ten minutes at seventy miles an hour—to catch Paul. After that, Kelsey was going to have to face her ex-husband. Dylan wanted to prevent that from happening if he possibly could.
He kept hearing her scream when she’d thought Paul had shot him. She had sounded genuinely anguished. That meant she’d be going into the meeting terrified or angry or both, when what was needed was a clear, cool head.
He pushed the car’s speed up to eighty. Not ten seconds later he spotted the taillights of the flashy green car up ahead. At the same time, he saw a sheriff’s car slide onto the highway from its hiding place behind a stand of trees. The cop didn’t use lights or his siren, but there was no mistaking his intention to get Dylan off the road.
If Paul spotted that police car in his rearview mirror, there was no telling what he would do. It wouldn’t matter that the deputy was after Dylan, not him. He could panic just the same, and that would increase the danger to Bobby and Kelsey.
Dylan knew he had no choice. Slamming his palm against the steering wheel in frustration, he muttered a curse and pulled to the side of the road. The deputy coasted to the shoulder right behind him, then exited his car slowly and strolled up to Dylan.
“You’re in a mighty big hurry for this early in the morning,” he noted.
Dylan flipped open his investigator’s license. “I was tailing a suspect. Thanks to you, he’s getting away.”
The deputy didn’t seem particularly distressed by the predicament he’d caused. “Is that so?” He studied Dylan intently. “That wouldn’t be the same suspect that half the cops in West Texas are waiting for just up the road, now would it?”
Dylan grimaced. This little speed trap had been Justin’s doing. He could feel it. The man was sneakier than Dylan had imagined. “It would indeed,” he conceded.
The man nodded, then handed him back his wallet. “It’s damned frustrating sitting around and letting somebody else take down the bad guys, isn’t it?” he asked sympathetically.
“If you understand that, why’d you stop me?”
“Because you were the bad guy I was assigned to take down,” the deputy said. “Want some coffee?”
Dylan gave a sigh of resignation. “Might as well.”
The man gestured toward his cruiser. “I’ve got a whole Thermos full right back there. Join me and we’ll wait for news.”
“You go ahead,” Dylan suggested. “I’ll be right there.”
The man raised his sunglasses and peered intently into Dylan’s eyes. “Son, what kind of fool do you take me for? The second I walk away, you’ll take off like a bat out of hell.” He gestured. “Out of the car. And hand over your keys while you’re at it.”
As badly as he wanted to do otherwise, Dylan got out of the car and gave the deputy his keys. He’d never catch Paul before he reached the meeting spot, anyway. It looked as if he was going to have to trust Justin to keep Kelsey and Bobby safe. Given how he’d sidelined Dylan, Justin was clever enough to handle the job.
And if he failed, Dylan would wring his neck. Though the prospect of doing bodily harm to the sheriff cheered him considerably, he found himself praying that there would be no reason for it. He’d rather find Kelsey and Bobby all in one piece when this was over.
The deputy regarded him sympathetically as he handed him a cup of coffee strong enough to wake the dead.
“Waiting’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
Dylan nodded. “You got that right.”
Paul had spotted the car racing up behind him on the highway and knew in his gut it had to be the man he’d left tied up back at the motel. Dylan. That was his name. A friend of Kelsey’s.
How had he gotten loose so quickly? Obviously Paul wasn’t exactly equipped for a life of crime. Despite what they all thought, he didn’t have a killer’s instincts. Thankfully, today would be the end of it. Kelsey would give him the pills he needed and he would go back to Miami, where he belonged. He’d be back at work next week and this whole thing would be a distant memory.
“Daddy?”
He glanced down at Bobby and saw the fear in the boy’s eyes. Guilt crept through him. He hadn’t meant to scare his son. There’d been a time when Bobby had been his pride and joy, ranking right up there with Kelsey as two of the best things to ever happen to him.
He blamed the doctors for destroying all that. They were the ones who’d put him on such powerful narcotics after his skiing accident. Why couldn’t Kelsey see it wasn’t his fault he’d gotten hooked? Why had she blamed him when he hadn’t been able to give them up? What kind of wife walked away from her husband when he was in trouble?
Once again the familiar anger swelled in his chest, crowding out the guilt. Still, he kept his tone even when he answered Bobby.
“Isn’t this a blast, little buddy?”
Bobby’s chin rose with a touch of defiance. He looked so much like Kel
sey then, it was scary. “No, Daddy. You’re driving too fast. I don’t like it. Driving fast is wrong.”
“Not out here in the country,” Paul told him. “Out here it’s okay to drive like the wind.”
“No, it’s not. Mommy said.”
“Well, your mom’s wrong about this one. Now, be quiet so Daddy can concentrate.”
He glanced once again into his rearview mirror and saw that the car was gaining on him. It was no longer a distant dot on the horizon. He could see the front end well enough to tell the color and make. It was definitely the same one he’d seen in the motel parking lot, close to the office.
Suddenly a sheriff’s cruiser slid onto the highway in hot pursuit. Paul felt a momentary flash of panic, then amusement as he realized the deputy was after the other man. He laughed when he saw the two cars pulling onto the shoulder of the highway, then fading into the distance as his own speed steadily accelerated.
Damn, he was good. It was about time he caught a break. Another hour, two at the outside, and he would be on his way home. This miserable Texas wasteland would be nothing but a distant memory.
Chapter Twelve
The air was hot and dry even though the sun was barely up. Kelsey sat in the car with the windows open just the same, listening desperately for the sound of an approaching vehicle. This road wasn’t well traveled, which was precisely why Paul had chosen it. If she’d heard anything, more than likely it would be her ex-husband.
Would he have Bobby with him as he’d promised? Or had everything changed back at the motel? Had he actually shot Dylan and left him to die? She couldn’t imagine Paul being that desperate and out of control, but there had been no mistaking the sound of that gunshot, the sudden silence as the phone had gone dead in her hand. Her stomach rolled over just thinking about it.
For the thousandth time, she prayed that Dylan was still alive, that they would have a chance to explore the feelings that had begun to grow between them in the midst of this ordeal.
Later, she told herself firmly. She would think of that later. Right now, all that mattered was getting Bobby back. She tried to recall everything Justin had told her to do. She nearly panicked when the details wouldn’t come, then simply prayed that any second now she would see her son again, that the nightmare would end.
She glanced surreptitiously toward the distant grove of trees where one of Justin’s men waited, a sharpshooter designated to take Paul out, but only if something went awry. She’d had to beg for that much. She hadn’t wanted Bobby to live with the horror of seeing his father shot, not if there was any other way to bring Paul into custody. If she’d had her choice, Paul wouldn’t even be arrested where Bobby could witness it. Justin, however, had only been willing to bend his rules so far.
There were more men posted along the highway in both directions, wherever the slightest cover allowed them to remain hidden from view. They would not prevent Paul from coming in, but they were there to set up instantaneous roadblocks that would keep him from getting away.
Concentrate, she told herself. Stay calm. She glanced at the picture of Bobby she had clutched in her hand. That precious smile. Those laughing eyes. Just remember what’s important, she instructed herself. She had to keep reminding herself that rescuing Bobby was paramount. There were others who could deal with Paul. Her time to lash out at him would come later, once her son was safe.
Straining her ears, she thought she detected the distant sound of an engine. Squinting into the sun, which had just crept above the horizon in a blaze of orange, she kept her gaze pinned on the highway, looking for the first flash of sun on chrome or a swirl of dust that would prove her ears hadn’t deceived her.
“Come on. Come on,” she murmured.
“Kelsey?”
The sound of Justin’s voice crackling from the radio on the seat beside her made her pulse leap wildly. She grabbed it and whispered, “Yes,” as if whoever was coming might hear her if she spoke any louder.
“This is it. We’ve spotted him. You doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said with a certainty she was far from feeling. She would be fine, too, as soon as she saw her son, as soon as she held him.
She glanced toward the duffel bag filled with pills to reassure herself that her bargaining chip was in place.
“Don’t do anything crazy,” Justin warned her. “Remember, we’re right here. Get Bobby. Give Paul the pills. Leave the heroics to us, okay?”
“Yes,” she said, disgusted with herself because her voice squeaked instead of remaining steady.
“You’ll do just fine,” he reassured her. “Kelsey, one last thing.”
Something more to remember? She wasn’t sure she could. “What?” she asked as she finally spotted the first glimpse of the car in the distance.
“Dylan’s fine. I’ve talked to him and he’s fine. Okay? I just thought you ought to know that before this goes down.”
A terrible knot of tension in her stomach dissolved at the news. She knew why he’d told her, too. He hadn’t wanted Paul to be able to use Dylan’s so-called death to rattle her. He could have, too. If Paul had taunted her with the fact that Dylan was dead, she very well might have lost it and done something stupid.
“Thank God,” she murmured.
“Okay, angel, let’s do this,” Justin said with the absolute calm of a professional. “You with me?”
Her nerves steadied, along with her resolve. “You bet,” she said firmly.
“Everybody else?” Justin asked.
Kelsey was dimly aware of other deputies responding, then Justin’s call for radio silence from here on out.
She sucked in a deep breath, then stepped from the car to wait for her ex-husband.
Dylan was chafing at the restrictions he was under. He’d listened to Justin’s radio contact with Kelsey, heard the thread of fear in her voice, then the determination. She had to be the bravest woman he’d ever known.
He’d been relieved when Justin had told her that Paul hadn’t left him for dead. He didn’t want her thinking about anything except Bobby. He knew all too well how many things could go wrong when a person was even the tiniest bit distracted. That was how he’d ended up at Paul’s mercy back at the motel.
The deputy glanced over at him. “She’ll be fine. She sounds like a woman who can handle herself in a crisis.”
“Give her a sick kid and she can, but this?” Dylan shrugged. “Can any parent ever be prepared to deal with something like this?”
Sitting here, waiting, was giving him way too much time to think—about Kelsey, about Bobby, about Kit, and about Shane. The first thing he intended to do when this ended was to see his son. To hell with the noble, decent decision he’d made. He wanted his boy to know he had a father who loved him. He didn’t intend to disrupt their lives. He just wanted a chance to spend a few hours with Shane from time to time. He and Kit could work it out. He’d matured since the divorce. In the last few days, he’d learned he wasn’t too old to learn to compromise when it really mattered.
An image of Bobby popped into his head. He couldn’t help thinking about the future, making the inevitable comparison between any relationship he might have with Kelsey’s son and the bond Kit’s husband had formed with Shane. How would he feel if Paul James fought to remain a part of Bobby’s life? Of course, he thought wryly, under the circumstances, it could be a very long time before Paul had any contact whatsoever with his son again.
Dammit, what was happening? The radio silence was setting his nerves on edge. Unconsciously, he leaned forward to listen, hoping for some clue about what was taking place just a few miles down the road.
“Do the right thing,” he muttered as if Paul might somehow hear him.
“Now there’s a prayer worth repeating,” the deputy observed.
Dylan glanced at him and saw that his expression was tense, his frustration just as evident. Dylan’s own resentment at being kept out of the heart of the action eased a little. He had a hunch with very little encourage
ment the deputy might be persuaded to creep a little closer.
He was even more certain that it was absolutely the wrong thing to do. So much as a whisper of activity might spook Paul. Dylan had seen for himself the shape the other man was in. It wouldn’t take much for him to spin out of control.
“You figure Justin has things under control up there?” Dylan asked, half looking for an excuse to change his mind.
“As much as any man could under the circumstances,” the deputy responded.
“Then I guess we’ll do what he intended us to do. Sit tight.”
“Got to say it’s not in my nature,” the man said.
“Mine, either,” Dylan said with heartfelt agreement.
Even so, they sat and waited.
Paul’s car eased to a stop about ten feet behind Kelsey’s. The passenger door opened at once and Bobby emerged with a whoop of excitement.
“Mommy!” he called and ran toward her, even as Paul was shouting at him to stop.
Kelsey and Bobby both ignored him. She knelt down and opened her arms, tears streaking down her cheeks. At the feel of his warm, solid little body next to hers, she trembled violently. A relief unlike anything she had ever felt before washed over her. It was several minutes later, with Bobby squirming to get free, before she released him, then rocked back on her heels to study him.
Bobby stared at her, his expression puzzled. “Mommy, why are you crying?”
“I’m just glad to see you, that’s all. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
She ran a hand over his cheek, then touched his forehead to reassure herself that his fever was truly gone.
“Mommy,” Bobby protested, wriggling away from the touch.
“I guess you don’t need any of Mommy’s kisses to make you better, after all,” she said.
“I told you he was fine,” Paul said.
The sound of his voice startled her. How had she forgotten about him? He was the reason they were out here. Controlling the surge of anger that rushed through her, she stood slowly and met his gaze.
Dylan and the Baby Doctor Page 14