“Long story.” She left it at that.
“It always is. I was married for fifty years. She was taken out by cancer two years ago. She was my world and I would have never laid one finger on her in harm. Don’t let that jerk get by with this, you hear? Every woman deserves to be treated like she’s an angel. Listen to this old man. I’ll be seventy-three next month.” He motioned for her to sit on the seat. “You’re safe.”
Crawling from the small space, she sat on the seat, stretching her aching legs. Jessa laid her head on her lap.
“She likes you.” Brady chuckled. “That doesn’t happen very often, at least not these days. A dog can sense a nice person, you know. She misses Roda, that’s my wife, as much as I do.”
“I can’t give you gas money. I left my purse.”
He snorted. “Lady, I mean…Lauren…it does this old man a lot of good to know I helped a someone who needed it. We all need to be a little kinder.”
*
Steam took a short step and kicked in the door. Wood splintered and the hinge broke. He aimed his gun. “Police! Put your hands up so I can see them.” He looked around the space from the threshold. Empty beer cans, ashtrays, pizza boxes, and food containers littered the dirty living room. The pleather couch was so worn that most of the brown material had peeled away, exposing the netting underneath. The curtain on the small window was half up and were yellowed. The place smelled strongly of whiskey, weed, and dog, but so far there wasn’t a dog.
On the table was a lit joint and next to it were crack rocks.
Slowly, with his gun still aimed, Steam stepped closer to the table and that’s when he saw the boots sticking out behind the couch.
“Police! Put your hands up and no one will get hurt!” Steam yelled.
No reaction.
The man was on the floor, his blood was puddling on the puke green carpet. His eyes were open, but he was making gurgling sounds.
Steam bent next to the man.
“I’m Special Agent Street.”
The man muttered something, but blood splattered from his mouth. He held a bloody knife gripped in his fist.
“Who did this?” Steam asked.
The man’s eyes rolled back into his head and there was an eerie release of breath.
Checking his pulse, he found nothing.
“Fuck!” He was too late.
Hearing a noise from the back of the house, Steam jumped up and took careful steps down the shadow hallway. Once he came to the kitchen, he saw the back door was wide open and there were spots of blood on the tiled floor.
Outside, he saw more splatters of blood on the ground.
The killer was wounded.
Holding his gun steady, he scanned the cluttered yard, anywhere a person might hide. Following the trail of crimson, it stopped about the corner of the house. Steam saw a man dressed in all black. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
The man hesitated.
“Put your hands up.”
Slowly, the man lifted his hands.
“It’s over. The last attacker just died. Talk to me. Why did you do this?” Steam took several short steps.
“I did you a favor.”
Two more steps. Steam knew he was still too far away to get a clean shot. “You did me a favor? I don’t think so. You just took out the last man who could answer some questions for me.”
“He can talk to his maker now,” the man muttered.
“That doesn’t help me much.” Another step.
“If you love Lauren, you should have wanted them dead too.”
Steam lowered the gun a mere inch, caught off guard by the other man’s revelation.
“What do you know about Lauren?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The assailant must have realized this was his only chance to get away. He pulled a gun and shot at Steam who jumped into a nearby bush, landing hard on his side. He felt a stabbing pain in his ribs, but he wasn’t shot.
Pulling himself to his elbows, he aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, getting two shots into the dark but the car sped off, burning rubber.
Then it was quiet.
Jumping up he ran down the street, watching the backlights fade into the night.
Chapter 16
After bidding her new friends, Brady and Jessa, goodbye, she hurried up to the door and knocked twice with no answer. Where was Ranger? She’d be safe with him until she could get ahold of Steam.
There was a dim light on inside.
Then she saw it. A splatter of blood on the sidewalk.
Fear nestled in her chest.
She tried the knob and it opened. “Ranger?”
She received no answer.
Switching the lamp on high, she saw a smear of blood on the carpet.
“Ranger? Are you here?”
Grabbing a butcher knife from the kitchen, she quietly made her way down the hall, following the trail of blood that looked like it was getting heavier.
Hearing a painful moan, she turned on the light in the bathroom and sucked in a breath. Ranger was wedged between the toilet and the tub, slumped against the wall. A puddle of blood covered the floor. His eyes were open, but they were hooded, his skin was pale and he held a bloody towel against his leg.
“Ranger? What happened?” She hurried to his side. “I’m going to call an ambulance.”
“No,” he whispered. “No ambulance. No police. Promise me.”
“But you’re bleeding. You need help.”
“Just go. I’ll be okay.”
“That won’t happen. I’m going to help you up.”
“No. Go. Just go!” he said weakly.
“Help me help you up. Give me your hand.”
He must have realized she wasn’t leaving because he held up his hand that was covered in dried blood while he continued to hold the towel against his wounded leg with his other. He was weak and had very little energy. He was at least two hundred pounds of muscle and it was difficult for her to help him. “If you don’t help me, I’m going to call 9-1-1,” she threatened.
He cursed. With the aid of the tub, he managed to drag himself to an unsteady stand. “This hurts like a bitch.”
“Let’s get you into the bedroom and lay you down. I’ll take a look.”
He placed his arm around her shoulders and, although it wasn’t easy, with each hop of the way, they finally managed the ten feet onto the bedroom. Once he made it to the bed, he fell to the mattress, looking like he’d run a marathon. He was covered in sweat, dirt, and blood.
“What happened?”
“An accident.”
She saw the bloody spot on his T-shirt and the gash on his leg. “I need to look.” She lifted his shirt. The cut wasn’t deep and had stopped bleeding.. However, she was concerned about the wound on his leg. “We’re going to take your pants off.”
“No.”
“The one on your leg is still bleeding. Where’s Shylene? I need to call her.”
“No, you don’t.”
“We don’t want her walking into this bloody mess.”
“We’re separated. We’ve been for a week. I couldn’t tell you, or anyone.” His head was braced against the headboard.
“I’m going to have to get these pants off.”
“What you need to do is leave.” Although his words were firm, his expression was feeble.
She reached for the belt at his waist, but he gently smacked her hand away. “I’ll do it.”
“Then do it while I grab a first aid kit. Where is it?”
“Bathroom. Cabinet.” He dragged the leather of the belt out of his pant loops.
Inside the bathroom, she rummaged through several cabinets until she finally found the box. Once she came back in, he had one leg out of his jeans and was struggling with the second. Without hesitation or his permission, she grabbed the denim and dragged it off. He sucked in a ragged breath but at least they were off.
Although the wound was ghastly, it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. He did n
eed stitches, but it was imperative that she got the bleeding under control.
Uncertain of what she needed, she popped the lid to the antiseptic and poured the liquid onto gauze. “I’m guessing this is going to hurt.”
He moaned through gritted teeth, clutching the blanket and almost ripping it at the seams.
“I’m sorry but we need to clean it.” She continued the task until she felt like it was sufficiently cleansed. By then he was too tired to argue. He simply nodded and pointed to the nightstand. She opened the drawer and found a bottle of Jim Beam. She understood what he wanted—or rather needed. With nervous hands she helped him sip at the whiskey. “Better now?”
“A bit,” he croaked out the words.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can be putting the bandage on,” she promised but wasn’t sure how she could help him without hurting him.
He closed his eyes, holding the neck of the bottle in a clenched fist. She guessed that was her invitation to get it over with.
Once the bandage was on the cut, between the pain and weakness and the whiskey, he had passed out. She paced back and forth, her mind spinning. He didn’t tell her what happened, but this couldn’t be a coincidence. What was the connection?
Reaching for his pants, she felt inside his pockets for his cell. Sunflower seeds spilled over the floor. Then it struck her…Steam had said the man who was outside her window had been eating sunflower seeds.
She stared down at Ranger, full of question.
He wouldn’t hurt her. Would he?
Looking around the room, she looked through everything but came up empty.
Then she searched the kitchen and her heart almost stopped when she saw the newspaper clippings, at least a dozen of them of the articles she’d written about Max King, the Blue Diamonds, even the article she’d written about his daughter, Moni. She also found a map stowed inside. Taking it out, she spread it over the table, seeing the red dots strategically placed over the city, which seemed pretty close to where the men had been found dead.
Also scribbled on the map was Steam’s name and number, along with several other addresses. Max King was written in capital letters and scratched in so deeply in pen that it broke through the paper.
She looked back at the door to the bedroom. Was Ranger the vigilante? What other story made sense? He’d killed her attackers and others. Lauren wanted to be angry with him. Wanted to call the police and let them handle it, but she couldn’t. She loved Ranger like family.
Going back to his bedside, she waited until he finally woke up.
He saw that she was holding the newspaper clippings. His mouth turned down. “You know, huh?”
“Start talking or I’m calling the police.”
He pushed himself up, squinting at the pain. “Go to my closet.” Standing, she did as he requested. “Find my blue sweater. In the pocket, grab it.”
Searching for the blue sweater, she found it and took out the flash drive. Her lungs deflated. She swiveled, her gaze narrowed. “Ranger? This is the disk I had when I was attacked. Why do you have it?”
He reached for the whiskey bottle, downed some, then said, “I found it while I was helping you. Like fate, it fell into my hands. As I was speaking to the police, telling them what I saw, I debated what I should do. Give them the drive or not, but something warned me I shouldn’t. When I saw what was on it something flashed inside of me. The police wouldn’t do anything. Men like Max King are out of the reach of harm.”
“But you didn’t give it back to me. Don’t you realize King could have been put away?”
He laughed, but it fizzled. “Don’t fool yourself. King would have been out within days. He always gets away with his dirty deeds. It was time someone put a stop to him.”
“How did you find the attackers?”
“Once upon a time I was on the street. I made friends. I was owed favors.” He looked at her squarely. “If you need to call the police, then go ahead. I’ll understand.” He reached over to the nightstand and took out a letter and handed it to her.
Her hands were shaking as she took the paper from the envelope and read the letterhead. It was from the local hospital. Tears filled her eyes as she read his diagnosis. “Cancer? You have cancer? Does Shylene know?”
“Doc said I have a few months left. Unfortunately, it looks like I won’t get King before then. Not now.” He looked down at his injured leg. “My only respite is knowing I’ll see my girl soon. Shylene doesn’t know. I couldn’t tell her. I especially don’t want her to know that I have blood on my hands, but I guess I can’t hide either bit of news from her now.”
“Ranger…” She touched his arm.
“It’s okay. Do what you got to do.” He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
She dialed a number, left a message and waited until finally the knock came on the door. She opened it and standing on the other side was Shylene who looked confused.
“I’m glad you came.”
The other woman stepped across the threshold, looking around. Lauren had cleaned up the blood, so she wouldn’t get scared. “Does Ranger know I’m here?”
“No, but he will soon.” She closed the door and locked it. Lauren also had tucked the evidence of his crime away, at least for now. Steam would know what to do, but Ranger needed his wife.
“So, he didn’t ask for me to come?” Shylene took a step toward the door but Lauren stopped her. “He wanted me to leave. It’s his place to ask me to come back.”
“Please don’t go. He needs you. I promise I wouldn’t have called you unless I knew you needed to be here.”
She must have sensed Lauren’s fear. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”
“Listen to me first. He’s been in an accident.”
“Accident? Is he okay? I knew this would happen? Where is he?” She threw her purse down and before Lauren could stop her she was across the house and in the bedroom. A painful groan escaped her.
Shylene saw her injured husband, knelt over him and started crying. Sobbing. Yelling at him. Ranger’s eyes were open. “Shy? What are you doing here?” His gaze found Lauren. “How could you call her? Why?”
“That’s what she needed to do,” his wife sobbed. “What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into?”
“My sweet, sweet Shy,” he moaned.
“I want answers.”
“I had to do what I needed to do.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Lauren said to them.
Some of Ranger’s color had come back but he still looked terrible. “Where?”
“I have to see Steam,” she said.
“Are you going to tell him?” His brows crunched.
“I don’t know. I really don’t. But right now, you and Shylene need each other. Tell her the truth.”
Chapter 17
After leaving a message for Steam using Ranger’s phone, Lauren handed Shylene the cell.
“He didn’t answer?”
“No.” Lauren’s stomach twisted. She knew he would only miss her call if something kept him from answering. “I can’t just sit here and wait.”
“You’re safer here. From what Ranger said these people want you dead. Steam would want you to stay here.”
Lauren wrapped her arms around her waist, wishing Steam was here with her. He’d know what they should do. Feeling for the flash drive in her back pocket, anticipation made her heart beat faster. Soon King would pay for all his dirty dealings.
A knock came on the door and she dropped her arms. “That could be Steam.” Peering through the peep hole, her breath came out on a moan. She jumped back, looking at Shylene.
“Who is it?”
Lauren motioned for her to stay quiet. “King’s thug,” she mouthed.
Shylene went white. She covered her mouth as her eyes widened. Lauren took her hand and together they went into the bedroom where Ranger was resting. She knelt at his bedside and gave his shoulder a shake. His eyes fluttered open. He was pale and had started bleeding again.
“What’s wrong?” he said weakly.
“One of King’s men is outside the front door. I recognize him. I’m certain there are more men. Do you have just one gun?”
He pushed himself up and she touched his shoulder. “You can’t get up. You’ll only fall.”
Shaking his head, he winced as he disregarded her words and planted his feet on the floor. “Lauren, listen. In my closet. Guns. Bring them all to me.” He was short of breath. She was afraid if he didn’t get medical attention soon he wasn’t going to make it.
Doing as he requested, she went to the closet and her mouth fell open. She didn’t know the name for most of the guns, but there was a lot and each looked very dangerous. Grabbing them with Shylene’s help, they laid them on the bed. He grabbed the Smith and Wesson Revolver, loaded it, then handed it to Lauren.
“Remember how I showed you to shoot in practice. Aim down the front sight and pull the trigger with a smooth uninterrupted motion. Got it?” He was bleeding through the bandage now and blood was dripping on the floor.
Her hand shook as she took the weapon. She’d only shot at the practice range a few times, not nearly enough to make her comfortable, but what choice did she have? “I got it.” She didn’t need to admit that she was scared.
“They’re going to get inside. They’ll bust through the door soon. They’ll kill us all.” Ranger leaned forward, squinting.
As if on clockwork, they heard a pounding noise followed by a clicking as if the thug tried the knob.
“What will we do?” Shylene paced the floor.
“There’s a secret passage out.” Ranger pointed.
His wife stopped and looked at him with narrowed gaze. “Ranger…?”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. I know you hated that I was always waiting and planning for the worst, but I only wanted to keep us safe. In the basement, behind the shelf of movies. Open it and the underground passage will take you to the end of the street.”
“Come on, let’s go before they break in.” Lauren peeked through the living room. There were several dents in the door. “You’re right, it won’t take long.”
“I won’t be going. I’ll only slow you down,” he said bravely.
Secured by the Lawman (Mountain Force Book 2) Page 15