“Brown curly hair. Gray eyes. Approximately six foot and two hundred pounds. Red baseball cap. Jeans.” She looked heavenward, as if trying to picture him. “Brown or beige shirt. Boots. The guy was thirtyish. The vehicle looked like a late-model silver Tahoe.”
How had she recalled all those details? Most witnesses had to be coaxed into remembering. “I don’t suppose you happened to notice the license-plate number, too?”
“Sorry.”
He eyed her. “You sure you didn’t recognize him?”
“I’m sure.”
“Is there anyone who’d want to hurt you?”
She hesitated. “No.”
Okay, why the uncertainty? He’d have to question her more later.
An older couple lingered on the sidewalk. Luke handed the twins to Kylie and then strode over. “Good afternoon. Did you see what happened?”
The man sporting a T-shirt that read Great Dads Get Promoted to Grandpa regarded his Ranger badge. “We walked out just as the lady hit him with the brush. I didn’t get a good lo—”
“We saw her and those two adorable kids in the park several times,” his silver-haired wife interrupted. “I thought that truck was going to hit them, as fast as it was traveling. What is this world coming to? Pure shame people can’t enjoy an outing at the zoo without being robbed.”
“Now, Earlene, you didn’t see anyone get robbed.”
“I didn’t say they were.”
Luke smiled at the couple—they reminded him of his grandparents. He took the rest of their statement and jotted down their names and phone number. There were no other people in the parking lot, so he went back to Kylie.
They buckled the kids in before he called his boss. He had only gotten the first three digits of the license plate and had called it in to Sergeant Jamison with the local police while chasing the vehicle out of the park. The sergeant put out a Be On the Lookout on the Tahoe and agreed to interview him and Kylie at home.
Using his phone, Luke snapped several pictures of the parking lot, the Jeep and the tire marks left by the Tahoe. A glance at the light poles and the corners of the building showed only one security camera at the entrance gate. He’d get the number of park security on the way out and give it to Jamison to see if the SUV was caught on tape.
He walked over to the Jeep. “I changed my mind. I want the kids in my truck. You’re welcome to ride back to the house with me if you’re nervous, and I can send someone to drop off your vehicle shortly.”
“I’m perfectly capable of...” Kylie stopped short. “I’ll take the Jeep, but I’d feel better if you’d follow me.”
* * *
Kylie pulled out of the zoo with Luke Dryden following close behind. She racked her brain trying to figure out why the attacker would want the kids. Kidnapping? Even though there were reports of kidnapping rings, she’d never heard of any in this area. But why? Did today’s attack tie to Megan’s death?
It was Hal Alcott himself who’d killed Lori Coffey and her two children early the morning the woman was to testify. Kylie knew because she had seen Alcott as he looked over the deadly scene. It hadn’t been him today, but it could’ve been one of his men.
Was it possible Kylie was the target? But how? No one knew she was in Rocky Creek. She hadn’t told anyone. Not even her beloved boisterous family in Wichita Falls. They all believed she was dead. Killed in the line of duty. Even her sister, Tina, her best friend, didn’t know she had survived.
Even though the explosion hadn’t killed her, it had left her alone, with no remnants of her former life. In everything that mattered, Melody Garner had died three years ago at twenty-nine. Her Kylie-Stone self was thirty-two, with no family. Until Hal Alcott was safely behind bars, her future didn’t hold much hope of changing.
Today’s attacker had looked determined, so she doubted it was a case of mistaken identity. If neither she nor the children were the target, that only left Luke Dryden.
Pressing the brake, she came to a stop at a red light, a dark emotional cloud settling over her. If someone had learned her whereabouts, did she need to move on? Again? Four times in the last eighteen months. Would she be forced to abandon her investigation into the death of Dryden’s sister?
Kylie scanned the road and nearby parking lots, but didn’t see any signs of the silver SUV. Just Luke’s truck behind her. She noted his intense gaze even through the tinted window. They had only had a couple of conversations that lasted more than five minutes since she’d met him. The Ranger had that professional, reserved approach that left a person wondering what was going through his mind. What would she find if she was able to peel back that stoic mask of his? Today, as he’d held Braden and Zoe after the attack, had been the first sign of affection she’d seen in the man toward the twins. But was she being fair? He had suffered with the loss of his sister, and now this. She couldn’t imagine the weight he carried.
The light turned green, and she took off.
An image of Zoe and Braden helping her make chocolate-chip cookies this morning flitted through her mind. They stood on a couple of wooden chairs placed against the counter as Kylie helped them put in the ingredients. Then, like her mama used to do for Kylie and her siblings, she got three spoons and gave everyone their own sampling of dough. The twins had devoured it. A smile tugged at her mouth.
She straightened, pushing the memory away. Getting attached was not an option.
Ahead of her, traffic on the two-lane highway picked up. A school bus braked and signaled a turn. There was no turning lane, and Kylie came to a stop while the bus waited for oncoming cars to pass. When they took off once again, she glanced toward the five-and-dime store.
A silver vehicle sat in the side lot behind the trash dumpster. She couldn’t tell if it was the same SUV, but since the kids were safe with the Ranger, she intended to check it out.
Using a hands-free device, she called Luke. “I’m going to stop at the store to get some milk. I’ll meet you at the house. Do you need anything else while I’m there?”
As soon as he said no, she hung up and turned the Jeep around. She headed back to the store and pulled into the second drive—the one farthest away from the silver vehicle. The dumpster blocked her view, and she couldn’t tell if the driver was still in the SUV or not. The license number was all she needed.
Kylie pulled around the opposite side of the building. The drive didn’t circle around the store, so she eased down the lane and parked behind a bread truck. A couple of tall hedges provided a barrier between the back of the store and a row of houses. She planned to stay only long enough to get the license-plate number.
Kylie retrieved her Glock from the locked console and stepped out of her Jeep. Staying close to the brick building, she inched along the back wall until she got to the corner. She lifted her gun and peeked around the edge.
The man in the red ball cap sat inside the silver Tahoe, staring at his phone. There were no other vehicles between her and the SUV, which meant there was no way to get close enough to read the plate without being spotted.
Panic stripped her breath away. She’d found him. Now what? Call the Ranger? He had the kids with him. Maybe she should go back to her Jeep and wait until the Tahoe went to leave, get the license-plate number and then call Luke. Where she had parked offered a great view of the exit.
Kylie started to turn away when a maroon sedan sped into the parking lot. The driver’s-side window zipped down, revealing a person wearing a red ski mask. The barrel of an assault rifle stuck out the window as he took aim.
“No!” she yelled.
The man in the silver Tahoe jerked, confusion etched on his face. He looked around before he spotted the masked man. He threw the SUV into gear and peeled out in Reverse.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Her attacker slumped forward, and his Tahoe crashed into a utility pole.
For a split second, s
hock held Kylie’s feet in place. Her pistol was no match for the killer’s powerful weapon. Through the ski mask, his eyes landed on her, their gazes locking for one fleeting moment.
Somewhere, a lady screamed.
The masked man gave her one more glance before the sedan screeched out of the parking lot.
Adrenaline surging, Kylie shoved her gun into her waistband, spun around and face-planted into a solid chest.
Luke Dryden.
Copyright © 2020 by Connie Queen
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ISBN: 9781488061196
Stolen Child
Copyright © 2020 by Jane M. Choate
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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