by Laura Scott
Holding his hands up high, he kicked the door open. The young officer had taken several steps back, so the abrupt opening of the door didn’t come close to touching him. “My name is Duncan O’Hare and I’m a cop with the Milwaukee Police Department.”
“Turn around very slowly and put your hands on the top of the vehicle.” The officer acted as if he didn’t care that Duncan was a fellow cop.
“Thanks JT, I’ll take it from here,” a voice drawled from behind him.
“Are you sure, Lieutenant?” The officer’s tone was respectful but held a distinct note of doubt. “I think it would be better to stay and back you up, just in case they try to make a run for it, again.”
“Go ahead and cuff him and the woman,” the lieutenant responded. “Then I’ll take over.”
Duncan shot a quick glance over his shoulder, eyeing the lieutenant. His name tag identified him as Goldberg. He was a big burly guy, with a gut that hung over his belt, and the coldness in his gaze made Duncan suspect this was the guy on Wolfe’s payroll.
Not any low-ranking officer, but a lieutenant. He supposed it could be worse—at least the mole wasn’t the chief of police.
Unless there were more than one of them on the inside. Not a happy thought.
“Don’t leave us with Goldberg,” Duncan said in a low, urgent voice, as the young officer slapped a silver bracelet around his right wrist and yanked it down behind his back. “He can’t be trusted. If you leave us alone, he’ll kill us.”
His words fell on deaf ears. The officer brought his left wrist back and finished the job of securing his wrists together. “Hey, Lou, what’s the story with these two? They rob a bank or what?”
“Something like that,” the lieutenant drawled. “Thanks again for your quick response, JT. You go on, now, and I’ll make sure to put a good word in for you.”
“Thanks, Lou,” the young man responded. Duncan turned so that his cuffed wrists were up against the SUV. He wished Chelsey would have run away. The lieutenant probably wouldn’t have been able to catch her, but instead she’d stayed and allowed young JT to place her in cuffs, too. She huddled next to him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms.
“You sure you don’t need anything else?” JT asked. Duncan tried to catch the young officer’s gaze—the guy had to realize this was not normal protocol.
Lieutenants rarely came out of their offices to make arrests on the street. Not even in a small town like Jackson, Wyoming, would something like that be a common occurrence.
“JT, you might want to mention this to the federal marshals at the police station,” Duncan said quickly. “Slade Brooks and Colt Nelson.”
“Marshals?” The young officer hesitated, glancing back at his lieutenant. “You know about that, Lou?”
“I do, and don’t let these two innocent faces fool you,” he drawled. “They’re both wanted for murdering a cop.”
“Cops killing cops,” JT said in disgust. “Nothin’ worse than that.”
“You’re right,” Duncan agreed. “Just ask your lieutenant, after all his loyalty has been bought and paid for.”
The lieutenant moved quickly, pulling his baton and whacking it hard against Duncan’s midsection.
The force of the blow had him doubling over, pain shooting through him and the contents of his stomach threatening to erupt. Blackness hovered along the edge of his vision as he tried desperately not to lose consciousness.
“No! Stop it! Please, don’t hurt him!” Chelsey’s horrified tone helped keep him on his feet.
He would not fall to his knees in front of Lieutenant Goldberg.
“Hey, Lou?” There was an uncertainty to JT’s voice that gave Duncan hope.
“I’ll take it from here,” Goldberg repeated. “Call a tow truck for their SUV, then get back to work.” When JT hesitated, he added, “JT? That’s a direct order, son.”
For second Duncan thought the young cop might continue arguing, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and made his way back to his squad car. JT opened the driver’s side door and slid in behind the wheel.
He backed up, then drove off without giving them a second glance.
Duncan tried to keep his breathing even, despite the throbbing pain. “So now what, Lou?” he asked, mimicking JT’s nickname. “Where are you going to take us?”
“Start walking.” The lieutenant looked irritated as he lightly tapped the baton against the palm of his hand. Duncan had a sneaking suspicion the man liked hurting others and feared that his next target might be Chelsey.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“Okay, you’ve got us under your control,” Duncan agreed. He glanced at Chelsey, using his gaze to indicate she should go ahead of him. “We’re not going to cause you any trouble.”
“You’ve already caused me a great deal of trouble,” the lieutenant hissed. He moved forward, opened the back seat of his squad car and used the baton to point at the back seat. “Get in.”
Duncan swept a glance over the area, hoping to catch the eye of someone, anyone nearby. But the bystanders stayed far back, as if in fear for their lives. Then another squad car sitting at a gas station caught his eye. He stared hard, hoping the driver of the vehicle would take notice. But the car was too far away for him to make a connection.
Chelsey slid in first, moving awkwardly with her hands cuffed behind her back. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but her pale features were a clear indication of her bone-deep fear.
He wasn’t thrilled with the situation, either. But he felt certain the lieutenant would have to think this through. After all, JT knew about the two of them being in his custody. The lieutenant couldn’t just shoot them and dump their bodies off in the forest somewhere.
Could he?
He slid in beside Chelsey, the interior of the vehicle stifling hot as the sun beat down through the windows. The lieutenant slammed the door and got in behind the wheel.
Goldberg didn’t say anything as he eased into traffic, leaving their SUV behind.
Chelsey was squirming in her seat next to him. “You okay?” he whispered.
She nodded but didn’t stop moving around. After a long moment she pulled one arm from around her back, gently brushing against his arm with her hand.
He didn’t change his facial expression, even though he was secretly thrilled she’d managed to get one of her hands free of the cuffs. JT hadn’t cuffed her hands as tightly as his, a rookie mistake.
Chelsey’s being free didn’t help much. Without a weapon, or his hands being free, their ability to escape the burly lieutenant unscathed was not looking good.
EIGHTEEN
Chelsey kept her hands low, so that the big cop wouldn’t notice she’d managed to get one wrist free.
Not that being uncuffed was much help. What could they do from the back of a squad car? Especially when the doors couldn’t be opened from the inside.
“I told you to run,” Duncan whispered.
She ignored him. Running and leaving him behind wasn’t an option. If this was going to end—she swallowed hard—then so be it. She chose to believe in God’s plan, and maybe being here with Duncan would make it easier for both of them.
Remembering the bobby pins in her hair, she lowered her head, and eased her left wrist up high enough to pull two from her curls. Was it possible they could use them to unlock Duncan’s cuffs?
Without saying anything, she pressed the bobby pins against his hand so he’d know she had them. He didn’t so much as glance at her, keeping his gaze on the cop behind the wheel, but he shifted just enough that she could access the cuffs.
Still, it was an impossible task considering she couldn’t see what she was doing and needed to make it seem as if her wrists were still together. Thankfully, for whatever reason, the lieutenant didn’t look at them, his attention focused on the road.
&
nbsp; Was he right now trying to find a place to silence the two of them forever?
Chelsey swallowed hard and prayed that God would give her and Duncan the strength and courage they needed to get through this.
The squad car slowed and the lieutenant pulled off the main thoroughfare onto a winding dirt road. Chelsey tensed, sensing this was not good.
“Where are you taking us?” Duncan asked. “Shouldn’t you be taking two people suspected for killing a cop to the precinct to be booked?”
“Shut up,” Goldberg growled.
Duncan shifted again, giving her better access to his cuffed wrists. She realized his conversation was a diversion from her attempt to free him.
“I wasn’t kidding about the federal marshals,” Duncan said. “When we end up missing and/or dead, they’re going to know someone within the police department was involved. Even the not-so-bright JT will put two and two together to come up with four.”
The lieutenant didn’t respond. The squad car jostled side to side as the road grew more uneven. Chelsey bumped against Duncan, still working the bobby pin in the keyhole of the handcuffs.
Somehow, the rocking motion of the squad car along with her efforts caused the lock to spring open. She wanted to smile and shout with joy when Duncan’s wrists came apart but managed to keep her expression impassive.
A minor victory, because they weren’t out of this mess, not by a mile. The cop was armed and they weren’t.
“Travis Wolfe is going to throw you under the bus,” Duncan said as he gently took the bobby pin from her fingers. “You know very well he’ll do whatever is necessary to save his own skin. Millionaires are not cut out for prison. Killing us isn’t going to stop the avalanche of evidence the feds have against him. In fact, if you were smart, you’d take the money you’ve squirreled away and get out of town before anyone else realizes you’ve been working for him.”
“I said shut up!” The sudden shout from the lieutenant startled her so badly, she was glad she didn’t have the bobby pins, or she’d have dropped them. Risking a glance down to his hands, she could see that Duncan still had the two bobby pins, straightened into thin spears.
Hardly a lethal weapon, but better than nothing.
“Okay, fine, have it your way.” Duncan glanced over with a grim expression. She could tell there was a lot he wanted to say but couldn’t.
She felt the same way.
The squad car jerked to an abrupt halt. She tensed, then quickly followed Duncan’s lead by placing her hands behind her back in an effort to hide the fact she was free.
The large man climbed out of the squad car and opened Duncan’s door. “Get out.”
Duncan turned in his seat, swinging his legs out of the car. As he braced himself to stand, she heard the sound of a car engine.
From there, things happened fast. The lieutenant glanced over to see who was driving on the road as Duncan launched himself from the squad car, shoving at the cop with his unbound wrists, the bobby pin stabbing near the lieutenant’s eye.
The big cop screamed in pain and the sound of a gunshot made her ears ring. She scrambled out of the vehicle after Duncan, frantically looking for something she could use as a weapon against the cop. There was a rock near the edge of the vehicle and she quickly bent down and scooped it up.
Duncan and the cop were struggling for the gun, the blunt end pointed upward. It was reminiscent of the struggle Duncan had with the assailant on the mountain that first night.
The engine noise grew louder. Chelsey wasn’t going to wait. Darting around the two men, she brought the rock down on the back of the lieutenant’s head.
Again, the big man howled in pain and it proved to be enough of a distraction for Duncan to wrench the gun free. But somehow, the gun went off during the struggle. It took her a minute to verify Duncan hadn’t been hit.
With a blood-curdling scream, the man went down, clutching his wounded arm. “I’ll kill you for this!”
“Chelsey? We have to go.” The words barely left his mouth when another Jackson PD squad car pulled up, a female officer swiftly jumping from the vehicle, her gun pointed at them.
“Put your hands in the air where I can see them!” she shouted.
The lieutenant managed to stop his screaming long enough to register what was happening. “Kimball, shoot them! They’re trying to escape!”
“You know that’s not true,” Duncan responded in a low, even tone. “You saw him take custody of us back in downtown Jackson, didn’t you? You were in the squad car parked in the gas station.”
Officer Kimball didn’t answer and stayed where she was, her weapon trained on them.
“You have to ask yourself why your boss would bring us here rather than down to the police station,” Duncan continued. “It’s because he intended to kill us to prevent us from telling everyone the truth about the bribe money he’s taken over the years from Travis Wolfe.”
Officer Kimball’s gaze flickered to the lieutenant then returned to Duncan. “Put the gun down.”
“I can’t do that, not until your boss is neutralized.” Duncan held his hands up so the weapon in his hand wasn’t a threat. “He won’t hesitate to kill you, too.”
Chelsey stepped forward, her gaze pleading with the female cop, who was roughly her own age, to believe them. “I’m Chelsey Robards, the owner of the Teton Valley Hotel, and I’ve been on the run since my fiancé was shot at our wedding. I know you’ll find this difficult to believe, but your boss really did intend to kill us. Because we know the truth.”
Kimball hesitated, then gave a short jerk of her head. “Okay, back away from the lieutenant and keep the gun where I can see it. If you make a move toward me, I will shoot first and ask questions later.”
“You...believe us?” Chelsey asked as she and Duncan took several steps far away from the lieutenant.
“I was under the impression you were dead, Chelsey. At least, that’s what the federal marshals told me at the hotel.” Officer Kimball’s tone was wry. “I’d rather get everyone down to the police station to sort this out.”
“Can’t you see these two shot me?” the lieutenant raged. “I’ll have your badge for taking their word over mine.”
“I don’t think so, Lou.” Kimball’s tone held a bit of snark that Chelsey appreciated. “I followed you here, remember? And I can’t think of a good reason for you to have brought two suspects to this remote location unless it was to get rid of them. Now shut up while I call for backup. Preferably anyone other than JT.”
A wave of relief washed over her. Chelsey leaned against Duncan, her knees weak.
Officer Kimball believed them.
It was over.
* * *
Duncan didn’t like being separated from Chelsey. As a cop he knew the importance of interviewing key witnesses separately, but he didn’t like not having her close.
He loved her. As much as he’d tried not to, he’d fallen deeply in love with Chelsey. And when this was over, he wanted to be with her. No matter where, or what names they’d have or what they’d be doing for work.
His life wasn’t worth living without Chelsey.
Yet he wasn’t entirely sure she felt the same way about him, considering she’d refused his offer to go into WITSEC with her more than once.
He decided to try to put his worry into God’s hands, knowing He had a plan for them. Hopefully, a plan that included the two of them being together.
He’d told the story of Lieutenant Goldberg taking him and Chelsey away at gunpoint and driving them to the dirt road and abandoned building several times now. He admitted the gun had gone off in the struggle, injuring the lieutenant. Yet he knew the drill. Any cop being shot in the line of duty was a big deal and this was no exception.
He imagined Chelsey had told the same story several times as well. Hopefully they’d let her go by now, since he was
the one who’d accidentally used the lieutenant’s gun against him.
And where were the feds? Did Slade and Colt have Wolfe, Nettles and Strand locked up in the same cell or had they been separated, too?
How many jail cells did Jackson have anyway?
The door to his interview room opened and Slade Brooks walked in. Duncan managed a weary grin. “About time you showed up.”
“It took longer than it should to get the police chief to believe Goldberg was really a dirty cop,” Slade admitted, dropping into the chair across from him. “Colt managed to dig deep enough to find recent phone calls between Strand and Goldberg, so that helped. Once we find the money Goldberg has stashed away, we’ll have everything we need.”
“Officer Kimball tell you what happened?” Duncan asked.
Slade nodded. “Yes, Officer Kimball told me exactly what she’d witnessed both in Jackson and again out on the dirt road.” Slade shrugged. “It helped that I’d spoken to her after we decided to fake Chelsey’s death. She remembered me and Colt and was smart enough to figure out the rest.”
“If she hadn’t arrived when she did, we’d be dead,” Duncan said. “All I had to defend myself was a couple of bobby pins Chelsey used to unlock the cuffs.”
“I don’t know. I think you’d have found a way,” Slade drawled.
The backhanded compliment drew a reluctant grin. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Slade glanced at the door. “The cops picked up Kenny Martin as he arrived at the airport hangar, and he’s already talking about cutting a deal. And I think once Stewart regains consciousness, he’ll add his two cents.”
“Good. Sounds like you’ll have everything tied up in a nice bow.”
“That’s the plan.” Slade hesitated, then added, “They’re letting you go for now, but both the federal marshals and the local police will need you to testify against Nettles, Wolfe and Strand.”
“I know.” Duncan cleared his throat. “What about Chelsey?”
Slade considered him for a moment. “Fact is, Chelsey doesn’t really have as much evidence to provide compared to you, Duncan. We have Brett’s photographs, and both you and Colt heard Wolfe, Nettles and Strand talk about killing Brett and attempting to kill Chelsey. She doesn’t have anything additional to offer, other than to corroborate what we already know.”