Rancher's Hostage Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  Maddie eased across the bed to cuddle with Lilly, her purr a balm to Lilly’s restless heart. Closing her eyes, Lilly searched for sleep. She’d managed a drowsy lethargy when Maddie’s head popped up, and she stared at the door to the hall. Lilly hadn’t heard anything, but the fine hairs on her nape stood up.

  Chapter 20

  Lilly nudged Dave, waking him, and pointed to Maddie, her expression conveying the alarm her silence didn’t. As they watched, the cat jumped down from the bed and crawled underneath it. Whether Lilly had heard anything or not, her cat had, and that was good enough for Lilly.

  “Stay here,” Dave mouthed, his face grim. He tossed back the covers and reached for his crutches.

  Lilly grabbed his arm and shook her head. “You’re hardly stealthy on those,” she whispered, her volume barely a breath, and she aimed her chin toward the crutches. “Stay with me. We’ll call the deputy outside. He gave me his number. It’s saved in my phone.”

  Lilly picked up her new cell, and with a few quick finger wipes and taps, she called the deputy’s personal cell. The deputy had told her he would be on duty until eight in the morning, at which time he’d text her the cell number for his relief.

  Dave scowled and cast an expectant glance toward the hall. Clearly he was champing at the bit to personally take on Wayne, crutches be damned.

  Over the sound of the deputy’s cell ringing through her phone, she heard a light scuffing noise. Dave heard it, too, and he turned to her with an impatient glare. “Hide,” he said in a hushed tone. “Get under the bed or in a closet or—”

  He stopped, jerking his gaze toward the door again when the loose floorboard in the hall squeaked. Pressing his mouth into a taut line, she saw the decision in his eyes without him saying a word. Dave wasn’t waiting for the deputy.

  She held up a finger, her expression beseeching him to wait just a few moments, even as the deputy’s phone clicked over to voice mail. Puzzled and frustrated that the deputy wasn’t answering, she eased up on the bed to peer out at the front yard. The first rays of morning sun shone down on the cruiser parked at the end of her driveway. And revealed a nightmare. The driver’s door was open, and a wide red gash crossed the deputy’s throat. The windshield was covered in a spray of crimson.

  Lilly gasped loudly. Covering her mouth both to muffle the scream that swelled in her throat and fight the urge to vomit, she sank down on the mattress again and turned a wide-eyed look to Dave.

  Seeing her reaction, Dave sidled closer and rose to kneel on his good leg as he looked out into the yard. He mumbled a vile curse under his breath.

  “That’s right,” a chilling voice from the door said. “The cop is dead. Nobody will be running in to save you.”

  Lilly whirled toward Wayne, terror crawling up her spine. He held a bloody knife in his hand, one from Helen’s professional chef collection. Despite the cool morning, Wayne’s face was beaded with sweat, and his eyes held a disturbing sheen, a glassiness she recognized as febrile. “We have unfinished business.”

  Dave shoved to his feet and grabbed a crutch, raising it like a lance and wielding it as a weapon. “Stay back, you sonofabitch. If you touch Lilly, I’ll pummel you within an inch of your life.”

  Lilly glanced down at the phone still in her hand. While Dave held Wayne’s attention, she thumbed her phone app and called 911.

  The emergency operator answered, and she blurted, “Wayne Moore is at my house! He’s armed, and he murdered the cop out front. Send help, please!”

  “Hey! Hang that up!” Wayne bellowed, aiming the bloody blade at her.

  Instead she rattled off the address.

  With a growl, Wayne charged. She yelped in fear, scrambling to the far side of the bed. Dave swung the crutch, smacking Wayne with it, but Wayne kept coming. Blocking the crutch with one arm, he raised the knife and slashed at Dave. When Dave juked away from the blade, Wayne grabbed the end of the crutch and yanked.

  Dave toppled off balance and lost his grip. With a growl, Wayne threw the crutch toward the hall and came at Dave again, knife up.

  Although unsteady without the support of his crutches, Dave sidestepped, ducked and feinted as Wayne jabbed with the blade again and again.

  Leaving the line to the emergency operator open, Lilly tossed the phone in the corner behind her, freeing her hands for combat. She was scared to the bone, certain Wayne would not hesitate to kill them this time, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She and Dave weren’t tied up now, and they had a two-to-one advantage. Fueled by adrenaline and a conviction that Wayne had to be stopped, she dove into the action.

  Grabbing a pillow as protection from his blade, Lilly surged at Wayne. As shields went, the pillow was pitiful, but it was better than nothing. Wayne turned his attention to her and slashed her foam-and-cotton defense. As hoped, her distraction bought Dave a few critical seconds.

  From her peripheral vision, she saw Dave snatch up the second crutch. He swung it at Wayne’s knife arm, just as Wayne raised the blade over his head. The crutch smashed into Wayne’s side, and he emitted a pained howl as he staggered back a couple steps.

  Lilly shifted her gaze to the blood-soaked shirt Wayne wore, and through a tear in the fabric, she saw that the gunshot wound she’d been treating for him had grown angry and infected. His feverish eyes and sweaty face made more sense now.

  “Wayne, stop this!” she said in a firm voice that belied her fear. Wayne and Dave locked glares, crouched in attack-ready poses, but she continued. “I know you’re here for your father’s watch, but I don’t have it.”

  His focus riveted on Dave, Wayne shook his head and through teeth gritted in pain, he snarled, “It is here. I left it here.”

  “I found it and gave it to the police,” Lilly countered. “It’s not here anymore.”

  Dave remained poised, his focus glued on Wayne, ready for the next attack and using both legs despite his injury.

  Wayne furrowed his brow, panting for a breath, and sent her another quick side glance before returning his glare to Dave. “Lies. It’s here somewhere, and I’ll get it.” He inhaled deeply, and his nostrils flared. “But the watch ain’t all I came for.”

  She nodded and aimed a finger at his side. “Your wound. It’s infected. I see that.” She raised both hands. “If you’ll put down that knife, I’ll do what I can to clean the wound. I promise. But only if you’ll promise that—”

  He scoffed. “Too late for bargaining, Lilly.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s never too late to turn this whole thing around. You can get medical help, surrender to the police and make a deal that—”

  “Make a deal?” His lip curled in disdain. “To do what? Die in prison? Spend the next year or so in pain, wasting away. Screw that.”

  “You’ll receive the medical treatment you need in prison.”

  Wayne snorted his derision. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure the state pen is a regular Mayo Clinic.” He shook his head. “No. If I can’t get out of the country, get treatment somewhere where there’s no extradition, then I might as well eat a bullet here and now.”

  Dave shifted his gaze briefly to Lilly, and Wayne chuckled dryly. “Don’t get excited, Hero. If I do go down, I’m taking you both with me.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Dave said. “You walk out now, before the cops come, and no one gets hurt.”

  Wayne motioned to his side. “A little late for that, too, Hero. Even if I did want to make a run for it, this bullet scratch you gave me is dragging me down. Way down.” He winced and pressed a hand over his wound.

  Dave flipped up a palm. “So then how do you see this ending? What’s your endgame now?”

  “Hell if I know.” Wayne glowered at Dave. “I had a plan. I had a good plan for gettin’ out of town and using the loot from the bank to get well. But you screwed that up for me when you played hero and shot me, you bastard.” A muscle in W
ayne’s jaw ticked. “Now everything’s gone to hell, and I hold you responsible. That’s why you have to die.”

  With that, Wayne lunged at Dave.

  Dave swung the crutch in an upward arc, hitting Wayne’s knife hand, then striking his cheek.

  While Wayne fumbled to regain a firm grip on the knife, Dave tossed the crutch aside and took Wayne on hand-to-hand. Leading with his shoulder, Dave knocked Wayne back and grappled for possession of the knife.

  Lilly watched in a haze of horror. What could she do that wouldn’t make matters worse for Dave? She glanced at the second bed pillow. The distraction had worked last time, so...

  Dave feinted left then right, avoiding the thrusts of the blade, and aiming blows at Wayne’s ribs and face. When Dave landed a blow on Wayne’s injured nose, Wayne cradled his face and loosed a loud, bone-chilling howl of rage and pain. Staggered back a step. Two.

  His roar spooked Maddie from her under-the-bed hiding place, and she darted for the hall, right behind Wayne’s unsteady feet. Wayne tripped over Lilly’s fleeing cat and toppled backward onto his butt, his head thumping hard against the wood-plank floor.

  Dave seized his chance. He landed on Wayne and pinned his opponent’s wrists to the floor. Tossing the pillow aside, Lilly scuttled over to help Dave pin Wayne to the floor. She grabbed Wayne by the hair and yanked his head back, earning another yowl of agony and his fiery glare. Her move allowed Dave to grip their opponent’s knife hand with both of his and slam Wayne’s wrist against the floor. Once. Twice. The third time the knife skittered loose and clunked on the hardwood planks.

  Lilly seized the knife and aimed it at Wayne’s eye. “Be still, or I’ll blind you!”

  Panting from exertion, Dave straddled Wayne’s legs and sat back to pin them to the floor. He extended his injured leg with a groan, and Lilly saw the blood blossoming on the bandages. He’d reopened his gunshot wound in the struggle.

  Wayne stopped struggling, his breathing ragged and his glower murderous. “Do it, Lilly. I dare you.”

  Lilly used her knees and body weight to trap his arms. She continued to point the blade at his face, her hand shaking as adrenaline and fear continued to ravage her.

  “I hope you both burn in hell,” Wayne snarled, vitriol his only weapon now. His words hit their mark. Pain lanced her chest, along with a strange sympathy for the man who’d imprisoned them, taunted them, terrified them for days. Feeling the shiver that racked his body, she pressed a hand to his perspiration-dampened brow. His skin was frighteningly hot.

  “Wayne,” she said, her voice rasping, “you need a doctor.”

  “Get your hand...off me.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to unclog the emotion in her throat. “I never wanted things to end like this. I wanted to help you.” She felt Dave’s curious gaze on her as she continued. “I tried to be your friend, to tend your wound. I’d have helped you negotiate a surrender with the police that would have given you—”

  His eyes snapped to meet hers, narrowing with contempt. “Surrender? That will never, ever happen.”

  As if to prove his point, he jerked futilely against their hold on him. He had surprising strength for someone so clearly ravaged with fever and pain.

  Raising her gaze to Dave, he stared back at her with a peculiar look on his face.

  A few minutes later, Lilly heard car engines outside, voices, the squeak and static crackle of a bullhorn. “Wayne Moore, this is the sheriff. We have the house surrounded. Lay down any weapons and come out with your hands up.”

  Dave raised his eyes to meet hers, relief permeating his expression.

  “Can you manage him long enough for me to go out and talk to the cavalry?” she asked Dave.

  He jerked a nod. “Go on.”

  She waited until Dave held Wayne’s wrists before she stood up. Still reluctant to leave Dave alone with Wayne, even for a few minutes.

  Outside, the sheriff deputy repeated the bullhorn call for Wayne to surrender. Lilly hurried to the front door, put her hands out so the deputies could see she was unarmed and headed down the porch steps.

  A deputy met her at the base of the steps. “Ma’am, are you all right? We had a call that Wayne Moore was here.”

  She nodded. “Yes to both. Dave Giblan is inside with him. First bedroom on the left.”

  As she filled him in on how they’d subdued Wayne and the knife he’d had, the deputy gave a signal. Two more deputies rushed forward, guns drawn.

  “We need an ambulance, too,” she said. “Wayne’s hurt and Dave’s leg was bleeding.”

  “An ambulance is on the way.” The deputy pointed to her arm. “You’re bleeding, too.”

  She dropped a puzzled gaze to the cut on her arm, the blood that trickled down her forearm toward her wrist. She’d been so caught up in battling Wayne, so pumped with adrenaline, she hadn’t noticed the cut, probably from when she’d charged Wayne with the pillow.

  Through the front door the deputies had left open, she heard shouted commands as the officers took control of the fugitive. A couple of minutes later, the deputies appeared again, one on either side of Wayne, whose hands were cuffed behind him, as they escorted him to the waiting patrol car.

  Wayne gave Lilly a chilling look as he was marched past her, and he muttered, “Never.”

  An uneasy prickle ran up her spine. What had he meant by that?

  Her muscles remained taut, her nerves jumping until Dave came through the front door, hobbling on his crutches. She rushed to him and caught him in a bear hug as he reached the bottom step of the porch.

  When the sheriff’s deputy she’d been speaking to approached, she and Dave parted only enough to face the deputy. Dave kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders as if afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t keep a grip on her, and she tucked her arm around his waist.

  “After your injuries have been treated, we’ll need to interview you both about what happened this morning,” the deputy said. “I’m sure you’re—”

  A shout from one of the other officers cut him off.

  Startled by the commotion, Lilly jerked her attention to the yard. To Wayne and the officers flanking him.

  Wayne’s legs seemed to have given out, and he sagged toward the ground. As the deputies bent to drag him to his feet, Wayne twisted, raising his cuffed hands toward the utility belt of the officer on his left.

  “Wayne, no!” Lilly shouted.

  But her captor grabbed the deputy’s gun. Fired a random shot.

  The other two deputies drew. More gunfire.

  Lilly flinched at the loud bangs. Screamed.

  Wayne’s body jerked then went limp. Didn’t move.

  Lilly stared in disbelief as the deputy beside them reached for his shoulder radio and rattled off a litany of codes to the dispatcher.

  Her legs trembled, and Dave wrapped her in a tight hold, the only thing keeping her upright. Her gut swam in acid. But as the shock wore off, her duty reared its head, and she fought to free herself from Dave’s arms.

  “Lilly, no! Don’t. It’s over.” Dave tried to restrain her, and she slapped at his hands.

  “Let me go! I’m a nurse. I have to at least try to help him!” She wrenched free and staggered over to Wayne. The deputies also tried to keep her back, but she wouldn’t hear it. “I’m a nurse! Let me help him!”

  She watched the deputies numbly as they checked Wayne for a pulse, then stepped back, shoulders drooping and faces grim.

  “Ma’am, it’s too late. He’s gone,” the officer who’d checked Wayne’s pulse said.

  Never, Wayne had said. Surrender? That will never, ever happen.

  As badly as Wayne had treated her and Dave, she valued every life, and it tore at her soul that Wayne saw no out other than death. Her muscles turned to jelly, and she slumped to the ground.

  “Oh, Wayne,” she murmured, “no.�
��

  “Suicide by cop” she’d heard it called. A quick death for a man who saw only cancer, suffering and imprisonment in his future.

  Dave sank onto the grass beside her, pulling her into his arms. One of the deputies who’d fired on Wayne staggered away and threw up.

  Lilly shook from head to toe, a bittersweet regret welling inside her, but Dave’s solid presence gave her a measure of comfort she desperately needed.

  “I didn’t want it to end like this,” she said softly, more to herself, to Wayne, than to anyone else. “He was a jerk to us, but I never wanted him to die.”

  Dave squeezed her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “I know. But at least it’s all over now. You’re safe.”

  “Safe,” she muttered, the concept feeling foreign to her. Her fingers curled into Dave’s shirt as a disturbing thought occurred to her. If their ordeal was over, where did that leave her association with Dave?

  She might be safe from physical harm from Wayne now, but she still felt vulnerable, as if perched on the precipice of a cliff. She glanced up into Dave’s eyes and knew why. Last night, when she’d given Dave a piece of her heart.

  And betrayed Helen.

  The only way she saw to redeem herself was to cut Dave completely out of her life.

  Chapter 21

  Time lost all meaning for Lilly as the police processed the scene, took their statements for the third time in four days and finally released them to leave the scene.

  But where to go? Helen’s house echoed with bad memories, was swathed in police tape and marred with bloodstains. She could go to a motel. There was a decent one in Boyd Valley, but the thought of being alone scared her. Well, maybe not entirely alone. With Dave’s help, she’d gotten her terrified cat out from under the bed in the master bedroom and put Maddie in her travel carrier.

  “Poor girl,” she cooed quietly, reaching through the open door of the carrier to pat her cat’s head. “It’s gonna be okay, Maddie-cakes.”

  “Maddie,” Dave said, peering over Lilly’s shoulder, “I take back every bad thing I said about you not helping. That was one well-timed bolt. Lassie would be proud.”