Cowboy Under Fire

by LENA DIAZ,

  “A love triangle, sort of. Maybe Bethany resents Hayley because of it.” Mason flipped open the folder.

  “Enough to frame her as a criminal mastermind and a serial murderer?”

  Mason shrugged. “I’ve heard crazier stories in my time.”

  “Just tell me what’s in there.”

  “Looks like he was a career criminal. Good thing Hayley dumped him.”

  Dalton grunted noncommittally and edged around another sharp curve.

  “Wow. He was into drug-and gunrunning way back when. The Feds finally caught up to him and looks like they had a really strong case. Then he ended up getting killed in a hit-and-run in a caravan on the way to the prosecutor’s office. Destroyed their case. Most of the people in their net had to be let go for lack of evidence after that. I’ll bet Bethany took over after his death. She’s not just a killer doing hits for the crime rings. She’s the leader of the crime rings.”

  “Makes sense. All the pieces fit that explanation.” He leaned over, trying to read some of the pages that Mason was flipping through.

  “Hey, hey, eyes on the road.”

  Dalton swore and swerved around a branch that had come down in his lane. When they entered the last straightaway that would lead to the main road, he motioned toward the folder. “Back up a few pages. I saw a list of names. What was that?”

  A minute later, Mason let out a low whistle. “We’ve got our murder list. These are the people our Ghost has been executing—half are already dead, even more than we knew about. She must have started framing Hayley after the first series of murders and didn’t want to draw our attention to the early ones since she couldn’t frame Hayley for those. Get this. The victims were all involved in the court case against Chandler, from his arrest through the planned prosecution. This is a witness list, part of Discovery. Sampson didn’t notice this?”

  “She said she didn’t have time to read an ancient rap sheet.”

  Mason shook his head. “Bethany’s killing everyone associated with the last case against her fiancé.” He frowned. “Why would Hayley be on that list?”

  Dalton shrugged. “We’ve already established that she was using Hayley as her fall guy when her crimes started coming to light and the criminal network started coming apart. She knew Hayley had computer expertise, so she could lure her into her network without her knowing. Hayley was an easy target, someone who trusted Bethany, a scapegoat. What if Bethany’s plan was to kill people associated with her fiancé as another way to tie Hayley into the crimes, because of her past connection with him? It really all boils down to Bethany trying to save herself in whatever way she could. Why not get a little revenge along the way, like say if her fiancé ever said anything about Hayley to make Bethany feel threatened.”

  “Huh,” Mason said as he flipped through the folder some more. “Looks like Chandler was going to make a deal with the prosecutor, give up names. How much you want to bet that our Ghost was already ensconced in the criminal enterprise with Chandler and was worried he was going to give her name to the prosecutor? That hit-and-run could be her handiwork.”

  “She killed her own fiancé.”

  “I’d bet on it.”

  “Her parents died in a car accident too.”

  “Maybe we should tell the police to re-open that investigation.”

  “Maybe.” Dalton pulled to a stop on the main road, then turned toward Camelot. “This explains why The Ghost did what she did. But it’s not giving us any clue about where she might take Hayley. Or even why.”

  A moment later, he slammed the brakes again, almost making the Mercedes slide off the side of the road.

  “What the heck, Dalton? You need me to teach you how to drive?”

  Dalton pulled to the shoulder. “My truck’s off in the trees. And Bryson’s lying over there, in the ditch.” He grabbed his gun and jumped out of the car.

  Behind him he heard Mason on the phone calling 911, then his shoes crunching on glass as he ran to catch up.

  Dalton squatted down and pressed his fingers against Bryson’s carotid, checking for a pulse, all while keeping his pistol trained on his ruined truck about twenty feet away.

  “I’ve got the truck,” Mason told him as he ran past, pistol sweeping out in front of him.

  Dalton pitched his gun on the ground and leaned over his friend, who was lying on his back, eyes closed. He had a pulse, but it was alarmingly weak. Dalton lifted his eyelids, checking his pupils. Then he pressed a hand against his chest to see if he was breathing. He sent up a silent prayer when he felt the slight rise and fall. Bryson was holding on, barely.

  He winced when he checked the gash on Bryson’s head. But the blood looked like it was clotting. He gently felt for other injuries, trying to see where all the blood was coming from.

  Mason skidded to a halt on the glass-littered shoulder, then dropped down on his knees in the grass beside them. “The truck’s empty. There are skid marks on the road, and tire tracks along the shoulder. Two vehicles were involved in the accident. My guess is Bryson saw your truck and tried a PIT maneuver to stop it. He must have hit his head pretty hard, got knocked out or something. They dumped him out and took his car.”

  “I can’t figure out where all the blood is...” Dalton lifted Bryson’s jacket and saw the small hole underneath his arm. “He’s been shot.”

  Mason swore a blue streak.

  Dalton lifted Bryson’s right hand, looking for the exit wound. “Smart guy. He was able to take off his tie and press it partially into the wound to staunch the bleeding. Probably saved his life.”

  “Hayley,” Bryson whispered.

  Mason and Dalton looked at each other in surprise.

  Dalton leaned down close to Bryson. “Don’t try to talk. An ambulance will be here soon.”

  As if to prove it, a siren sounded from down the mountain.

  “Probably five minutes out,” Mason said. “Hold on. Just hold on, buddy.”

  He whispered again, struggling to form words. Dalton put his ear next to his lips. When Bryson stopped talking, he leaned back. “Hayley pulled him out of the car, then used his tie to staunch the bleeding. She told him to play dead.”

  “She saved his life.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve been telling you she’s a good person, Mason.”

  “I’m finally starting to believe you.”

  The siren was closer now. Bryson’s lips moved again and he seemed agitated, his hands fluttering at his sides.

  This time it was Mason who leaned down to listen. He glanced up. “Camelot. He said Camelot. Bryson, is that where Bethany was taking Hayley?” He grabbed Bryson’s hand. “Squeeze my fingers if that’s what you meant.” He looked up again. “He squeezed my hand.”

  The ambulance pulled up behind the Mercedes, lights flashing.

  “Go,” Mason urged. “I’ll stay with Bryson. Go save Hayley.”

  Dalton looked from the ambulance, to his friend, torn over the idea of leaving him.

  “You’re not abandoning him,” Mason said. “I’ve got this. And you’re not alone. Remember, we’re a team. I’ll send the other Seekers to help. Now, go.”

  Bryson’s pain-glazed eyes fluttered open and he looked at Dalton. “Go.”

  Dalton squeezed Bryson’s shoulder, then sprinted for the car.

  Chapter Thirty

  Hayley’s teeth chattered as she gripped the railing, fighting through the pain in her knee to climb the steps of Camelot’s front porch. It wasn’t a simple cut. Something had torn when she’d fallen out of the truck.

  “Ah, poor baby,” Bethany gloated. “You’re shivering. Guess I should have let you grab your coat at the cabin. No worries. We’ll be nice and toasty in just a minute.” She kept her pistol trained on Hayley until she made it to the top of the porch, then she motioned toward the door. “Hustle, hustle. I want to be ins
ide before any of those pesky Justice Seekers show up. It was nice of them to all go looking for you and leave the place empty for us, don’t you think?” She glanced at her watch, as she’d done several times since they’d left Bryson lying beside the road.

  “You can’t get inside,” Hayley said as she rested against the log wall by the front door and rubbed her aching knee. “That’s a biometric reader. I can’t imagine anyone gave you a special code to get in.”

  “You always did underestimate me, Ghost. Always the overachiever in school, especially in college. Never showing up for class but still making straight A’s while the rest of us struggled. I resented the hell out of you for that. Well, this is where I excel. Breaking rules and making others play right into my hands. Give it a minute. You’ll see.”

  “Is that what this is about? You resent me? For making good grades?”

  “That’s only one of the many reasons that I resent you.”

  “I’ve been your friend for years. Did that not mean anything to you? Was any of that real?”

  She seemed to consider that a moment, but before she could answer, engines whined behind them. Hayley whirled around. Two red four-wheelers burst from the cover of the woods off to the left and raced across the parking lot. They stopped in front of the steps, and three men climbed off each one, their body armor and the weapons strapped on their jackets marking them for what they were. Muscle for hire. Mercenaries.

  “Right on time.” Bethany held her hand out toward one of them. “The glove. Hurry.”

  The man looked like he would tower even over Dalton. He jogged up the steps ahead of the others and handed a large glove to Bethany. As she fit it over her right hand, she arched a brow at Hayley. “Biometric reader you said? I’m guessing it’s programmed to read the palm prints of the Justice Seekers. How many are there? Let me think—the twelve knights of the round table, plus their fearless leader, King Arthur. Or Mason. Or whatever. That’s thirteen. Oh, wait, my bad. They’re one man down. Seth Knox. I wonder if they felt the need to remove his biometrics yet from the computer. What do you think? Let’s try it out.” She grinned as she pressed the glove against the panel.

  The door buzzed and popped open.

  Hayley gasped in shock.

  Bethany chuckled. “I figured they’d be too sentimental to remove his prints. That’s the reason I killed him, you know. He was one of their computer experts and I needed someone to break into their computer system for me. I lured him to a bar to get him drunk and get the information that I needed. Let’s just say, he wasn’t cooperative. But he ended up being my key to get inside anyway.” She wiggled her fingers in the glove. “Hint. This isn’t leather.”

  Hayley turned around and threw up.

  Laughter echoed as Bethany headed inside. Two of the men grabbed Hayley by the arms and carried her into the main room. The others rushed in after them and shut the door.

  Suddenly all business, Bethany pointed toward the conference room. “In there, then go through the panel on the left like I showed you on the diagram.” She tossed the glove to one of the men. “Get those account numbers. Tell me when the money’s been transferred.”

  The men all disappeared into the conference room that Hayley remembered would lead to the great hall. Was that their destination? They planned on using the computers there?

  “This way.” Bethany motioned her forward, the same way that Dalton had once led her on his guided tour.

  Hayley limped forward, careful to watch where she was stepping. She kept expecting Bethany to stumble or fall, but she maneuvered with no difficulty, shoving the gun in Hayley’s back whenever she was too slow. They didn’t stop until they were standing at the two-story railing overlooking the great room below.

  Hayley quickly stepped back, sweat breaking out on her brow at the long drop below.

  “Oh, that’s right. Your fear of heights. Actually, let’s be honest, I haven’t forgotten that little heartbreaking story you told me about when you were little. As a matter of fact, I was counting on it. Move, to your right until we reach that hall over there, then go in the first door to the left.”

  Hayley stumbled to a halt. “Left?”

  “That’s correct. A room with a view. I’m sure you’ll enjoy looking out the rear window at the sheer drop below. What is it? Fifty, sixty feet to the valley floor?” She pressed her lips next to Hayley’s ear. “But no trees to break your fall this time.”

  Hayley shuddered.

  Bethany laughed and shoved her forward.

  Once inside the room, Hayley turned her back to the wall of windows. Bethany had followed her and was pointing the pistol at her from a foot away. Whatever her former friend had planned, this appeared to be the end of the line for Hayley.

  “I don’t understand.” She stalled for time, scrubbing her face with her hands as she’d seen Dalton do, but using the gesture to hide her eyes so she could glance around for something to use as a weapon. But the only things in the room were a bed and a wooden chair at a desk. Could she hit Bethany with the chair? It didn’t look all that heavy. But could she grab it fast enough and swing it around before being shot?

  “Understand what?”

  Hayley motioned around the room. “This. The murders. You trying to frame me. Why? What did those people ever do to you to deserve to die? What did I ever do to you?”

  Bethany shrugged. “You’re more irritating than you think, so perky and pretty and sickeningly perfect. The rest of us mere mortals struggle for everything we have but it all comes easy for you.” She shook her head. “But it really boils down to business. You made an easy fall guy. At least until you found my storage unit and raised such a ruckus with your website. The Seekers worried that people might come here to harass Dalton and would see me by accident. Oh, you didn’t know they kept me here initially, to protect me, did you? That’s how I knew about those stupid uneven floors and stairs that come from out of nowhere.”

  She waved her hands. “This was my room. Lovely view. You really should check it out. But once they curtailed me sitting on the porch and going outside—again because of the crazies you stirred up on the internet—they moved me to a cabin way out in the middle of the sticks.” She grimaced. “Hated it. Regardless, like I said, it wasn’t personal. It’s just that, well, how I choose to make my living has gotten a bit dangerous. I only hired the Seekers as a cover, to make the police think I was innocent and in danger when they found out about my drug-and gunrunning activities. I needed a ruse, so they wouldn’t suspect me. So I used my journalist angle.”

  She curled her hand into a fist. “I was going to take the money and run. But before I could, they’d frozen most of my companies’ assets. That’s my money. Millions, Hayley. I have millions from Chandler after I took over the business from him and built that into even more millions. All frozen. That’s why I’m doing this. It boils down to money, as crass as that seems. But it hasn’t worked out the way I’d planned. So I had to come up with another plan. Which brings us to today’s venture. I brought the best hacker that money could buy with me to Camelot. He’s in the great hall right now, moving my money to an offshore untraceable account. Then I’m out of here.”

  A voice came through an intercom in the ceiling that Hayley hadn’t noticed earlier.

  “Miss Miller, one of the Seekers is here.”

  Bethany frowned, her knuckles tightening around the gun. “That was faster than I expected. Show me.” She tapped the wall and a panel flipped down, revealing a video screen. It blinked, then displayed an image of the front porch and the parking lot beyond, and a very tall man in a black Stetson and trench coat vaulting up the steps.

  “Well, look at that,” Bethany smirked. “Your Prince Charming is here to rescue his lover. This, I have to say, wasn’t part of the plan. But it’s just too delicious an opportunity to pass up. After all, Chandler always pined over you. I had to kill him because of it.
I can tell you’ve grown quite fond of your knight. What poetic justice to have your heart ripped out as I destroy him.” She pressed a key below the screen. “Let him in. Then lock it down.”

  Everything happened so fast. Dalton ran inside, gun drawn, then metal shutters slammed down from the ceiling with a loud whoosh and banged shut. Dalton had told her about those shutters. Every window and door on the front side of the cabin was now sealed. He’d also told her the back part was inaccessible from the outside. He was trapped and no one would be able to get inside to help him.

  “Keep hacking that computer,” Bethany said through the speaker. “The rest of you, kill our intruder.”

  “No!” Hayley grabbed the wooden chair and swung it toward Bethany.

  Bethany threw up her hands to protect her head. The chair smashed against her arm, knocking the gun loose. It flew across the room and hit the far wall, then fell to the floor beneath the bank of windows.

  They both dove for the gun at the same time. Bethany reached it first, but Hayley jumped on top of her and sank her teeth into her wrist.

  “Ow!” Bethany yelled, dropping the gun again.

  Hayley scrambled after it, hands outstretched.

  A boot slammed against her injured knee. She cried out in agony. Another kick slammed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. She gasped, tears of anger and pain streaming down her face.

  Bethany swiped the gun off the floor and ran out the door, slamming it closed behind her.

  Hayley flipped onto her stomach. The blinding-hot pain from her knee had her arching off the floor, but being on her stomach eased the tightness in her diaphragm. She gulped in blessed air, whispering a prayer of thanks to her kickboxing teacher in college who’d taught her that trick. A painful army crawl got her to the door.

  She pushed herself to sitting and reached for the knob. Locked. She swore and slid backward to get better leverage to try to stand and kick it open. Then she noticed the chipped paint at the bottom of the door, and the steel shining through. This was no hollow interior door. It was solid steel. Kicking it wouldn’t do any good.