Ranger Courage

by Lynn Shannon

  Weston’s heart was breaking, but he recognized the self-recrimination in the other man’s voice. He clapped Hank on the shoulder. “You did your job, Officer. This isn’t your fault. Chief Madison—”

  His voice broke off, and Weston swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Chief Madison understood and accepted the risks of this operation. Now, join the rest of your team, and let’s make sure she’s not in the building somewhere.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Weston glanced at the second-floor landing. He jogged up the stairs and circled to the point Hank had indicated.

  He could see the entire lobby from here, including the door Avery would’ve used to enter. Had she spotted Tom? Or had something else gotten her attention? Weston scanned the immediate area, but there wasn’t anything other than discarded pizza slices and soft drink cans.

  Luke joined him. “The parking garage attached to the building is clear. No sign of Tom’s SUV or a white van.”

  “That doesn’t mean they weren’t there.”

  “No.” Luke blew out a breath. “It only takes fifteen minutes to drive from the church to the university. Tom would’ve had plenty of time to park in the garage and set things up to grab Avery. In the hysteria caused by the fire alarm, he could’ve slipped out with her. We’re interviewing witnesses, but no one spotted a man lugging something or pushing a cart of any kind.”

  Weston frowned. How had Tom managed to get Avery out of the building? She wouldn’t have gone quietly. And carrying a police officer out would’ve attracted some attention, even in the rush of a fire. He leaned against the railing.

  Luke’s brow wrinkled. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Weston went around his friend and jogged back down the stairs. The tennis shoes he was wearing as part of his undercover outfit made the job easier. Luke followed.

  “This is where Hank last saw Avery. He said she was here one minute, gone the next.” Weston turned in a circle. A hallway shot off to the left. He pointed to it. “Maybe that’s why.”

  They ran down the corridor, clearing each room as they passed. No Avery. At the end was a door, sunlight streaming through the glass. Weston glanced out. Another building was a short distance away.

  His heart jumped. “Luke, this way.”

  Weston raced across the walkway to the next building. It was locked, and signs hung on the doors announcing it was closed for repairs. He circled around the side and spotted cars. “Tom may have led Avery here. There’s another parking lot in the back.”

  Luke grabbed his cell. “I’ll get the code to unlock the door.”

  Weston paced outside the door, his stomach aching. He’d promised Avery a candlelight dinner. They were falling in love. Those few precious moments couldn’t be all they would have.

  Please, Lord. Keep Avery safe. I don’t want to lose her.

  Luke ran over to the panel and typed in a code. The door clicked open, and Weston grabbed it. He raced through the lobby yelling Avery’s name.

  She didn’t answer. Music came from the rear of the building. Weston followed the sound, and a pool appeared. Someone was lying on the tile, long dark hair spread around her head.

  Rachel Long.

  Weston dropped to his knees beside her, and water saturated his pants. Rachel was soaking wet and unconscious, but breathing. “Luke, call EMS.”

  The woman was dressed in a long white gown. Weston shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her, his gaze already surveying the rest of the area. A pile of discarded objects caught his attention. His hands started shaking.

  Weston rose and, on hollow legs, crossed to the other side of the pool. The gun, duty belt, and cell phone were immediately familiar.

  They were Avery’s.

  Twenty

  Weston stood in the corner of the emergency room waiting area. A television played softly, and several individuals were clustered on the plastic chairs. One looked to have a broken hand, another was nursing the flu.

  An ambulance drove up. EMTs raced past with a gurney. Weston was half-tempted to join the group, muscle his way back with a flash of his badge and talk to Rachel.

  But she was unconscious. Or at least, she had been when they’d arrived two hours ago.

  Weston blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. He turned toward the window, lifting his gaze to the sky and said another prayer. He tamped down the voice inside his head reminding him that prayers hadn’t saved Melissa. Those thoughts wouldn’t get him anywhere except broken. His faith was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

  Weston’s phone rang and he answered it. “Donovan.”

  “We’ve located Tom’s SUV,” Grady said, skipping any pleasantries. “It was tucked between two dumpsters at the university. No sign of Savannah but Tom was in the rear. Strangled to death.”

  Weston closed his eyes. He pitched his voice low enough no one else in the emergency room could hear him. “So Emilia was right. Tom wasn’t the Chessmaster. He was working with someone.”

  “Appears that way. There’s more. The entire SUV was wiped clean, but the killer missed a spot. Under the passenger side seat. We got a good print. It belongs to Mike Steel.”

  Weston’s mind raced. “That’s an unlikely partnership.”

  “Not necessarily. They both had an ax to grind with Avery.” Grady’s tone was clipped. “Mike was angry he’d lost the Chief of Police position to her. Tom blamed Avery for his father’s death. And the two men know each other.”

  “Mike arrested Tom and Nolan when they were kids.”

  “Exactly. We suspected the Chessmaster was someone on the inside with a working knowledge of police procedure. Mike fits Emilia’s profile. Smart, college educated, etc. My guess is Mike developed the plan and Tom assisted him.”

  “Mike convinced Tom to kidnap Savannah, wearing a disguise.” Weston could see the images of the attack against Avery’s sister play out in his mind. “Tom drives to the university and switches Savannah from his SUV to the white van. Then he acts as a lookout for Mike in the theater building.”

  “Sounds right. It explains how the killer was able to move so fast.”

  Weston’s hand tightened on the phone. “It also explains why Avery had time to pull Rachel out of the pool. Killing Tom delayed Mike.”

  “We’ve got roadblocks set up on the freeway and around town. We’re stopping every white delivery van.”

  Too late. Mike had everything he needed. “We should check every unoccupied house on Tom’s mail route. If Mike is the Chessmaster, he needs a place to…”

  Kill. The word wouldn’t move past his throat.

  “I’m already on it,” Grady said.

  Weston stared out the window. A couple was making their way across the parking lot. Partners. He mulled it over, but something didn’t quite fit. “Can we link Mike and Tom together? Other than the fingerprint in Tom’s car and the arrest from twenty years ago?”

  “Not yet, but Luke used the print to get a search warrant for Mike’s house. He’s headed there now. I’m sending a photo array to your phone. Show it to Rachel. Hopefully, she can identify Mike as her attacker.”

  A doctor called out Weston’s name. He said a quick goodbye to Grady as he crossed the waiting room. “That’s me.”

  “It’s my understanding you wanted to speak to Mrs. Long. Please come with me.”

  The man turned on his heel. Weston hurried to catch up to the doctor’s long strides. “How is she?”

  “Hard to say. Medically, she’s stable.” He paused outside an exam room. “Mrs. Long awoke and was initially responsive but then suffered a panic attack. She struck one of the nurses and was screaming and crying uncontrollably. We had to sedate her.”

  “Any idea what triggered the panic attack?”

  The doctor shrugged. “She’s been through a serious trauma. Sometimes the effects can be delayed.”

  Weston nodded and stepped inside the room. Rachel’s petite form was barely a lump on the
bed. Her dark hair was spread across the pillow. Various tubes drifted out from under the blankets and a heart monitor beat in a steady rhythm.

  “Mrs. Long, my name is Texas Ranger Weston Donovan. There are some questions I need to ask you.”

  The woman didn’t move. He went around the bed and stood directly in front of her. Rachel’s eyes were glassy. Weston bit back his frustration and kept his tone calm but authoritative.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but it’s very important. The man who hurt you has kidnapped two other women.” Weston took a risk and stepped closer to the bed. He didn’t want to crowd Rachel, but he needed her to understand the urgency of the situation. “One of them is your friend, Savannah Madison. The other is Chief of Harrison University Police Avery Madison. Avery pulled you out of the pool tonight. She saved your life.”

  Rachel’s eyes flickered down and then settled on him. Progress. He would take it. “Where were you being held?”

  No response.

  “Was it a house?”

  Nothing. Rachel lifted her hand and grabbed his. She squeezed, her nails digging into his skin. Desperation oozed out of her. Rachel wanted to tell him something, Weston could sense that much. But fear, or perhaps the medication they’d given her, was making communication difficult.

  “Let’s try this,” Weston said softly. “Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no. Can you do that?”

  One squeeze. His heart leaped, but Weston kept his expression and tone soothing. “That’s good, Rachel. That’s very good. Were you held in a house?”

  One squeeze.

  “Was it in a neighborhood?”

  Nothing. Maybe she didn’t know.

  “Can you identify the man who attacked you?”

  One squeeze.

  Weston pulled out his phone. He brought up the photo array Grady had sent him and showed it to Rachel. Mike was in the center, number three. Weston slipped his hand back into hers. “Is the man who attacked you in one of these pictures?”

  Her gaze flickered to the phone and her forehead creased. Two squeezes. Weston froze. “Are you sure?”

  Two squeezes, this time more forcefully. He stared at her. “Can you tell me your attacker’s name?”

  The door to the room swung open and a nurse entered. She stopped short. “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt. I need to take vitals.” She moved closer to the bed. “How are you, Mrs. Long? Feeling better?”

  Rachel didn’t answer. Weston frowned. “The doctor mentioned Rachel had a panic attack earlier.”

  “Yes, sir.” The nurse wrapped a cuff around Rachel’s arm. “A patient in the emergency room started watching the news on their phone. Mrs. Long overheard and she became very upset.”

  Weston glanced at Rachel again. Her dark eyes were focused on him, fear lurking in their depths. Then they flickered to the television and her hand trembled in his. Could she have seen a news story about her own disappearance? Or was it more than that?

  The nurse finished her exam, and the door clicked closed behind her.

  Weston took a deep breath. He didn’t want to scare the young woman. She’d been traumatized enough, but he needed her help. Lives depended on it. “Was your attacker on television, Rachel?”

  One squeeze.

  He picked up the remote. “May I turn on the news so we can watch it together?”

  She didn’t move, then a squeeze. Lighter than all the others. Weston let out the breath he was holding. “Thank you, Rachel. Whoever he is, I promise you, he cannot hurt you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  He clicked on the television. Breaking news was playing about the fire alarm at the university. The newscaster filled in the details. No response from Rachel.

  The story changed to the missing women and the murders. The newscaster droned on. “Our correspondent, Greg Kilbourne, completed an interview yesterday with Harrison University Police Chief, Avery Madison. Here’s some of what he learned.”

  The shot changed to one of Greg standing outside the university. He kept his expression appropriately somber, but even through the screen, Weston sensed the reporter’s thrill at nailing the interview. A little tag on the right corner labeled it previously recorded.

  Rachel squeezed his hand.

  Weston’s gaze shot to her. Tears were leaking from her eyes, dripping onto the pillow. She couldn’t even look at the television.

  “Rachel, is your attacker Greg Kilbourne?”

  One squeeze.

  Awareness came like moving through a soupy fog. Every muscle in Avery’s body ached, and her head felt like someone was beating it with a hammer. She groaned.

  “Wakey, wakey.”

  A pair of hands shook her shoulders, and her head flopped back and forth. She struggled to right it. The clatter of metal against metal only increased her confusion. Where was she? Her thoughts were scattered like confetti on the wind, too difficult to chase. All she wanted to do was sleep and escape the pain. That wasn’t too much to ask.

  Someone lightly smacked her cheek. Avery forced her eyes open. The fierce pounding inside her skull increased, and she winced, as light assaulted her. She blinked. Then again. A man’s face loomed in front of her, and Avery reared back. She tried to move her hands but couldn’t.

  Tied. She was tied.

  It came back to her in a horrifying kaleidoscope of memories. Pulling Rachel from the pool, being attacked, and then drugged. Her breathing increased. Avery blinked again, willing her eyes to adjust to the light and her head to stop pounding. The man standing in front of her came into focus.

  Greg Kilbourne.

  “Well, hello, Avery.” Greg’s tone was mocking. “Nice of you to join us.”

  She tried to speak, but her tongue was fuzzy and slow. A side effect of the drug. Her body shook uncontrollably. From fear or cold, she couldn’t tell. Her clothes were still damp from the pool. She struggled to piece together the puzzle. Why would Greg Kilbourne try to kill her? Where was Tom?

  Greg laughed, then grabbed a lock of Avery’s hair. He gave it a gentle tug. “Poor thing. You’re confused. Allow me to enlighten you.”

  Greg removed his glasses and threw them to the side. They clattered against the floor. Then he reached up and tugged at his beard. He peeled it from his face, revealed a long scar across his chin.

  Her heart rate skyrocketed. “N-N-N-Nolan.”

  Jack Starin’s son. Nolan closed his eyes and a smile crept across his face. “Ahhh, I’ve waited a long time for you to say my real name.”

  Not all of his features were the same. His nose was different and his cheeks were chubbier. The plastic surgery—coupled with the beard, glasses, and green contact lenses—had been an effective disguise.

  She blinked again. Nolan Starin was alive.

  He smirked in acknowledgment of her unvoiced thought. “Yes, I faked my own death. One of the many things I learned to do while in prison.”

  Avery took deep breaths to counteract the drug swimming in her system. She wet her cracked lips with her tongue. “W-Where’s my sister?”

  “Oh, she’s right here. Along with a surprise guest, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see.”

  Nolan backed away, enabling Avery to view the room. It was small with two doors on the right-hand side. The only window had been boarded up, and the floor was tile.

  Savannah sat against the far wall. A bruise bloomed along the side of her face and dried blood clumped her hair together. Silver tape covered her mouth, and she was shackled. Twist ties looped around her wrists and feet. A chain was threaded through them and encircled her waist. It was secured to an eyehook in the center of the floor with a padlock. Savannah shifted her hands and the chain rattled. Her wrists were bloody.

  Avery met her sister’s gaze. Savannah was trying to hide it, but she was terrified. Avery shared the feeling but wouldn’t allow it to take root. She couldn’t. Her sister was alive, and although the situation appeared impossible, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

  Sitting beside Savannah was Mike Steel. He w
as unconscious and also bound. Tape covered his mouth.

  Avery’s gaze shot to Nolan. He chuckled. “You see, I captured your knight.” He pointed to Savannah, then shifted his finger to Mike. “And your queen. It’s unorthodox, I’ll admit, picking Mike to be that piece. But he was your father’s partner. And you worked with him as well from time to time.”

  Nolan was going to kill them. Avery glanced down at her own restraints. Unlike her sister and Mike, she was sitting in a chair. Her feet were attached to the legs with twist ties. She strained her fingers and discovered more ties around her wrists securing them to the chair.

  “You cap—” Avery shook her head and then winced. It felt as though someone had used her skull as a bowling ball. She took another deep breath and forced her tongue to work. “You captured Mike after we met with him at his house?”

  That’s why the lawyer wouldn’t allow them to question him. He hadn’t been able to locate his client.

  Nolan smiled. “It was fun watching you and the rangers spin your wheels to find him.”

  “You won’t get away with this. Every police officer in three counties is looking for us.”

  “Like they were looking for Debra and Marianne.” He scoffed. “I’m not worried. My alter ego isn’t even on the suspect list.”

  He was right. Greg Kilbourne had never been a suspect. How would the rangers find them? Weston must be out of his mind with worry. Tears pricked Avery’s eyes, but she forced them back. Now was not the time to think about Weston and the kisses they shared, the promises they’d made—

  She stiffened. Weston.

  Please, Lord, please…

  Avery leaned back against the chair. The knife Weston had given her pressed into her skin. She wanted to weep with relief. Instead, she kept her gaze on Nolan. “You’ve worked hard to kidnap us.”

  “I did.” He kicked Mike in the stomach. The detective groaned, and Nolan kicked him again. “Stop faking. I know you’re awake.”

  Mike opened his eyes and swung with his fists. Nolan scooted out of the way and laughed. Avery took advantage of the distraction. Her fingers fumbled with the edge of her shirt. The twist ties cut into her skin.