Rocky Mountain Revenge

by Rhonda Starnes

  Maybe she was wrong. After all she’d been through the past few days, could she simply be chasing shadows in the dark? Stay calm.

  “Goodbye?” She turned to study his profile. “Are you moving?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” Grace tried not to sound disappointed, though she hated the idea of her sister running into her ex-husband and his girlfriend or, someday, his second wife, in the grocery store.

  “I plan to keep working as a vet. In Blackberry Falls.” James pushed his sleeves up, revealing a tattoo. A wolf inside a triangle, midway up his forearm.

  Her breath caught. He was taking her to Chloe to kill them both. Grace had no idea how he intended to get past the guard, but she had no doubt he had a plan in place. James had always been a very methodical person. There was no way he hadn’t considered all the contingencies.

  She casually picked up her cell phone and tried Evan’s number again.

  “Have you not given up on getting a call through to your boyfriend, yet?” James laughed. “Did you know you could buy a device that jams cell phone frequencies?”

  That was why she didn’t have service. And why James had offered her the use of his phone. He knew she couldn’t make a call.

  “You and Chloe both have the most expressive faces, making it so easy to read what you’re thinking. I see you’re finally starting to understand the situation.”

  No use denying the truth. “I believe so.”

  The sneer evolved into full-blown manic laughter.

  Grace fidgeted with her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists until his fit subsided.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Is it because Chloe’s divorcing you? Or because you’re trying to cover up the fact you’ve been using the clinic to supply drugs to racehorses?”

  He sobered and glared at her. “If it wasn’t for me, Porter Animal Clinic wouldn’t be the successful, thriving business it is today. Your father was a bleeding heart. I can’t even begin to count the number of house calls he made without billing for the services. Or the number of ranch owners who had overdue accounts. And he never charged a late fee.”

  “I will not listen to you bad-mouth my father. He was a good man who tried his best to live by the Golden Rule.”

  “That good man was ungrateful and condescending. I brought in a lot of new clients—ones who never came in with sob stories to get out of paying—and even though I was married to his daughter, he planned to boot me out of the business. Said I was a sorry excuse for a vet.”

  “I never knew any of this.”

  “Yeah. Because he died in the car accident before he could tell anyone he’d fired me.”

  “You don’t mean you...” She couldn’t make herself say the words.

  “Orchestrated his death? No. I didn’t have anything to do with the accident.” James smirked. “I just didn’t try to save him when I happened upon the scene.”

  Grace gasped, tears stinging her eyes. Her fingers brushed against the canister of Mace in her pocket. Dare she use it right now? No. It would be too dangerous. She’d have to wait until they arrived at the hospital. Then she’d use it at the first opportunity.

  “You might as well take it out of your pocket and give it to me.”

  “What?” she asked. He couldn’t know she had a weapon.

  “The Mace.” He nodded toward her lap.

  She glanced down and saw her shirt had ridden up, revealing the outline of the cylinder in her pocket.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t know what it was? Seriously, it’s too big to be a tube of lipstick.” He laughed. “Now, hand it to me and don’t try anything funny. If you do, at this speed, you’re guaranteed to take yourself out, too.”

  She pulled the Mace out of her pocket and deposited it into his outstretched hand.

  “Good job, Amazing Grace,” he guffawed.

  Biting the inside of her cheek, she focused on the road ahead. She would not give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his use of her nickname.

  They were about ten minutes away from the hospital. She’d been praying the entire ride a police officer wouldn’t pull them over for speeding, keeping her from reaching Chloe as quickly as possible. Now, her prayer had shifted to the opposite. Please, Lord, send someone to save me.

  James pulled across two lanes of traffic, barely avoiding being rear-ended by an 18-wheeler, and took the exit ramp.

  “Don’t try anything foolish,” he commanded as he pulled into the Denver Memorial parking deck. “Or the deaths of innocent people will be on your head.”

  FIFTEEN

  A feeling of déjà vu washed over Grace, her muscles taut and ready to spring out of the vehicle when it stopped. Four nights ago, she’d been in Evan’s vehicle in a similar state of anxiety. The only difference was that this time she wouldn’t sit and wait to be escorted into the building. When James stopped the vehicle, she planned to jump out and run with all her might. There was no way she’d placidly walk into the hospital with him, leading him to her sister.

  He circled the first level of the deck and then took the ramp up to the second level, inching along in search of a parking spot. This was her chance. He was going so slowly, it wouldn’t hurt too much to jump out. Right?

  She wrapped her hand around the handle and pulled with all her might while pushing her shoulder against the door, but the door didn’t budge. She tried again, James roaring with laughter in the background.

  “Child safety locks are a wonderful invention, don’t you think?” he asked as he pulled into a parking space and shifted the vehicle into Park.

  Cutting the engine, he pulled a syringe out of the door pocket on the driver’s side and turned to her. “I thought you’d like to see your sister, but if you can’t behave, I can kill you now.”

  His face showed no emotion, his eyes cold as steel. “Well, what’s it going to be? Do you want to get this over with and die here? Or would you like a little more time and a chance to say goodbye to Chloe?”

  Her throat tightened and no words would form, striking fear in her that he’d take her nonresponse as agreement. Grace shook her head, finally managing to whisper, “I want to see Chloe.”

  “All right, then.” James kept his eyes on her, the syringe still in his hand, while using his free hand to open the center console and remove a gun. “Now, you stay seated until I come around to let you out. If you try anything funny—like trying to escape or alert security—I will not hesitate to shoot you or anyone else in the area. Got it?”

  She nodded, and her mind whirled. How was she going to get out of this mess?

  * * *

  “Dr. Porter, I’m so glad you’re here.” Evan heard the greeting through his earpiece. He was positioned in Room 1124 on the eleventh floor, and the female security guard posing as a nurse had just greeted Grace and James. Her words signaled that they had entered the reception area outside the Neuro ICU on the fourth floor. “Your sister is awake.”

  A gasp came over the earpiece.

  “Really?” Grace asked at the same time James exclaimed, “What?”

  “We tried to call but couldn’t reach you,” the undercover nurse replied.

  “I’ve had horrible cell service today. But, um, we can wait to see her if the doctor needs to do scans and tests. You know, to make sure she’s okay.” Hopefulness mingled with fear in Grace’s voice, propelling Evan toward the door of the room where he waited.

  Bridget put a hand on his arm and shook her head. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t go barreling into the situation. Trust the plan.”

  He bit back a retort, closed his eyes and let her words sink in. Rolling his shoulders, he took a deep breath and released it slowly, willing some of the tension to subside. Bridget was right. He needed his head in the game, not his heart. Evan would do more harm than good if he tried to storm the waiting area of the Neuro I
CU.

  He nodded and stepped back, forcing himself to focus on the words coming through the earpiece. What had he missed?

  “So Chloe has made a full recovery?” James asked.

  “Dr. Carson says she’s going to be fine,” the undercover nurse continued.

  Though Dr. Carson had said these very words last night, Evan hated that Grace was being given false hope her sister had awoken and was headed for a complete recovery. He prayed, after everything was over, she would understand they had only lied to save her and Chloe.

  “Well, let’s go see her,” James commanded as footsteps echoed over the earpiece.

  “No, not that way,” came the urgent reply. “Chloe has been moved out of Neuro ICU. Actually, you just missed her. We moved her into a regular room on the eleventh floor. I’ll have an orderly show you the way.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” James said gruffly. “Just tell us the room number.”

  “No trouble. Oh, Mark, perfect timing. Can you take Dr. Porter and this gentleman to Chloe Osborne’s room?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Mark is the orderly who transported your sister to her new room.”

  The orderly was actually one of Ryan’s Protective Instincts employees. His job was to keep James and Grace in his sights at all times, ensuring James didn’t detour from the carefully mapped-out plan.

  “Really, there’s no need. I’m sure Mark here has other duties he needs to see to,” James insisted.

  “No trouble at all,” Mark answered. “This way, please.” There was a ding, like the sound of elevator doors opening, and then muffled voices.

  Ryan’s voice broke through Evan’s earpiece. “Okay, everyone. They’re on the elevator.”

  From his position in the security office, watching the surveillance cameras, Ryan added, “We knew we couldn’t control every scenario. Three other people were already on the elevator, and Mark wasn’t able to prevent James from boarding. The elevator will stop on the seventh and ninth floors, but we won’t allow it to stop on any others. I’m sending security to prevent other people from boarding.”

  Evan was impressed with Ryan’s ability to get things done in a short amount of time. He really was good at his job, conducting the sting like a well-choreographed play with himself as the producer. Maybe one day, once this was all over and behind them, Evan could get his friend to explain how he’d pulled off such a large undertaking in less than two hours.

  First, they had to save Grace. And save her they would, because Evan did not intend to spend another fifteen years without her in his life, even if it meant uprooting his and Camden’s life and taking a job with the Denver PD. Or maybe he could get Ryan to give him a job at Protective Instincts. He’d concentrate on that after they had taken James into custody.

  “What does it look like in the elevator?” Evan had to know.

  “James is standing in the back corner, holding Grace almost like a shield in front of him. I can’t be sure, but I suspect he has a weapon of some sort in his pocket he’s using to threaten her.” Ryan continued, “Looks like the takedown will happen as planned.”

  The eleventh floor, part of a new addition to the hospital, was still under construction. On the surface it looked complete, with the hallways and common areas painted and the nurses’ stations outfitted with filing cabinets and monitors. However, a look into one of the patient rooms, with its half-completed molding and no bed or wardrobe, would make it obvious the floor was not yet in use.

  “Okay, folks, this is it,” Ryan said over the earpiece. “All the other people are off the elevator. Next stop, eleventh floor.”

  “I guess they sent Officer Wilkes back home, huh?” James’s voice sounded across the earpiece.

  Evan was on full alert.

  “No, sir. He’s upstairs outside the room,” Mark replied truthfully.

  Evan had wanted his officer in on the takedown, so they had put a bodyguard from Protective Instincts outside Chloe’s real room in the Neuro ICU.

  “Why would he still be here?” James sounded incredulous. “The person who attacked Chloe was killed last night.”

  “I wouldn’t know, sir,” Mark replied.

  Evan’s mind whirled. How did James know who was on guard duty today? Especially since Wilkes hadn’t even been on the schedule.

  The elevator stopped with a slight jolt, and a ding announced their arrival as the doors opened. Grace stood rooted to the spot, her heart thrashing against her rib cage.

  The orderly waved his hand toward the opening. “After you.”

  “No, you lead the way,” James insisted. “We’ll follow.”

  The man hesitated then met her eyes and smiled before he stepped out into the hall. If he knew he was leading her to her death, would he try to intervene? She opened her mouth, the words Save me desperate to escape, but closed it again. Grace would not be the cause of an innocent person being injured or possibly losing their life.

  “Remember, don’t try anything,” James whispered into her ear before nudging her forward, the gun in his jacket pocket poking her back.

  Grace nodded, her mouth too dry to form words. She followed the orderly down the hall, past the nurses’ station where a lone male nurse was talking on the phone.

  The eleventh floor seemed eerily quiet and there was a strong odor of paint and turpentine.

  The orderly turned down the hall to the left of the nurses’ station. A sign on the wall identified the hall as Eleven West. A man sat in a chair outside a room at the end of the long hallway. Officer Wilkes. Her heart soared at the sight of the familiar face. Please, Lord, let him stop James.

  “Thank you for your help, Mark. We’re fine on our own from here.” James stopped, turned his back to the wall and pulled her to stand in front of him.

  The orderly smiled and told them to have a good day as he turned to walk away, oblivious to Grace’s struggle. She looked down the hall. Officer Wilkes stared in their direction. Could she alert him to the danger? She tried to signal him with her eyes, cocking them upward and to the side toward James like they always did in the movies. But the officer didn’t budge. Maybe Evan was right. She watched too many whodunits. But, seriously, how could these people not see James was using her as a human shield?

  Once the orderly had disappeared, James jerked her arm and led her down the hall toward her doom. As they drew closer, Officer Wilkes jerked his head ever so slightly at the door to room 1124. Was he trying to signal her? Was help inside? Her heart leaped.

  Ten feet from their destination, James pulled the gun out of his pocket and put the barrel against the side of her head. “This is a setup.”

  Wilkes’s eyes widened, and he jumped up from the chair, knocking it over with a clang. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  “Too late for that.” James laughed. Walking backward, he pulled her through the door leading to the stairwell, the gun digging into her temple. Once inside, he raced up the stairs, dragging her behind him, his fingers biting into her upper arm.

  “James, stop. Don’t do this. Don’t make things worse than they already are,” Grace pleaded, but he continued on his mission, ignoring her appeals.

  They were headed upward and had rounded the first landing when, below them, the door they had come through flew open.

  Evan filled the doorway. “Stop, Osborne! Let Grace go!”

  James’s reply was a bullet fired in Evan’s direction while still dragging her up the stairs. The bullet pinged off the metal railing and ricocheted, hitting the wall a few feet above Evan’s head.

  Grace screamed and stumbled, banging her shins against a step. James jerked her upward by her arm, and she cried out as a fiery-hot pain shot through her shoulder.

  “No!” Evan yelled. “You could hit Grace.”

  Grace looked down and over the railing. Officer Wilkes and Bridget Vincent
had followed Evan into the stairwell, and Wilkes had his gun pointed in their direction.

  The trio raced up the steps behind them, and at each turn, James fired in their direction, slowing them down. Thankfully, he had terrible aim.

  Please, Lord, don’t let James hit anyone.

  * * *

  “Get down!” Evan shouted as a bullet whizzed past his ear. It was the fifth time James had fired at them as they followed him and Grace up the stairs. This time the bullet had come closer to its target. Even with his terrible aim, Evan knew, if he fired enough times, James was likely to hit somebody.

  Without being close enough to identify the exact handgun James was using, Evan couldn’t be sure how many bullets he had left.

  “My men have arrived on the roof and are in position,” Ryan said over the earpiece as Evan, Wilkes and Bridget rounded the last landing in time to see James drag Grace through the door.

  “They just stepped out onto the roof. Tell your men to stay out of view,” Evan commanded. “James has shot at us five times. I don’t know how many bullets he has left, and I don’t want him to use one on Grace if he feels pushed.”

  “Yeah, I was counting, too. I’ll try to ID the gun when he steps into view of the security camera. Let’s pray he didn’t do his research and he only has six rounds.”

  “It’s a Glock 42 with a seven-round capacity, if he put one in the chamber and had six in the magazine,” Wilkes said from behind Evan. “But I’m guessing he probably didn’t know to put one in the chamber and then add an extra to the magazine, so he should only have one bullet left.”

  “How would you know?” Evan asked his officer.

  The older man didn’t reply, his face impassive.

  Questions nagged at Evan’s brain. Like how had Osborne known Wilkes was guarding Chloe today? And why had James suspected a setup after seeing Wilkes? Was it possible one of his officers—one who had showed him the ropes when he’d first joined the force as a rookie and who was only a few months away from retirement—could be corrupt?