Chapter Twelve

Ruston lay next to Gracelyn while she slept. And she was indeed sleeping. He could tell from the now gentle, even rhythm of her breathing. Nothing like the urgent pace that’d happened when they were having sex. Then again, there were many things that took on that level of heat and need.

There weren’t many things that could make him forget that a killer was after them. Temporarily forget, anyway. Now that the fire had been cooled for the moment, he remembered.

And he worried.

How the hell was he going to keep Abigail and Gracelyn safe?

For the moment they didn’t have anyone trying to gun them down, but Ruston also knew they couldn’t stay holed up like this. It was like being undercover. With a baby, no less. That had to stop.

But how?

He didn’t even know who was trying to kill them, much less how to draw the person out in a way that didn’t involve putting Gracelyn or Abigail in even more danger than they already were.

There was one bright thing in all of this. Gracelyn and he were fully on the same side now. They were together, and while he wasn’t going to try to figure out what that meant for the future, Ruston knew they’d be working together to protect Abigail.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Gracelyn muttered.

Ruston silently cursed when he looked down and saw she was now wide-awake. He silently cursed again at the heat that instantly notched up inside him just by looking at her.

“I was hoping you’d get more than an hour’s sleep,” he said, and because he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her.

Gracelyn kissed him right back and made that amazing sound of pleasure that took the hunger up even more. And while his body was all for revving up, it wasn’t a good idea.

“I don’t have a second condom,” he told her.

She winced a little, then smiled. A wistful kind of smile that had an edge to it. The kind of edgy vibe that lovers threw off when the heat was strong and wouldn’t just go away.

Using a single finger, she slid a strand of hair off his forehead. That shouldn’t have felt like foreplay. It did. Then again, at the moment her breathing felt like foreplay, too.

He kissed her, way too long, way too deep. Enough to fire them both up. He would have taken that heat to the center of her body for some very pleasurable kisses. But a flash of light stopped him.

It hadn’t come from the window, so it wasn’t headlights. It took him a second to realize it was the phone. It was on the floor mixed with their discarded clothes. And it grabbed his attention, all right. It grabbed Gracelyn’s, too, because she tensed, clearly bracing for the worst.

He scrambled off the bed, located the phone and saw the name on the screen. “It’s a text from Luca,” he relayed to her.

Apparently, Luca wasn’t getting any sleep tonight either. Ruston read the message and quickly told her so she could release the breath she was holding.

“The search team found the dead man, Buddy, who Zimmer told us about,” Ruston explained. “The body was just off one of the ranch trails. The medical examiner will get the body and give us a cause of death, but Luca says it appears the guy did bleed out. So, Zimmer hadn’t lied about that.”

But Ruston immediately rethought that.

“Zimmer could have been the one to kill him,” Ruston amended. “I could have shot Buddy when he was at the front door of your house, but Zimmer could have finished him off. Zimmer might not have wanted to leave behind a loose end, especially one who’s a hothead.”

Obviously, that hadn’t occurred to Gracelyn yet, but it would have soon enough. Zimmer could have told them only the details that would paint him in the best light possible. The bottom line, though, was Zimmer could be a cold-blooded killer.

“Duncan will look for any connection between Zimmer and the dead fake cops,” Ruston assured her. Since it didn’t feel right to be discussing this while he was naked, he began to dress. “But my guess is if there is one, it won’t be obvious. Whoever set this up had to know it was risky.”

She made a sound of agreement and must have felt the same way he did, because she got up and started dressing as well. “And yet he went through with the plan anyway.” Gracelyn sighed. “That tells me the attacks aren’t going to stop.” She pulled on her top, and when she’d gotten her head through the neck opening, she looked him straight in the eyes. “You and I are the ultimate loose ends because the killer has to know we won’t stop until he’s caught.”

Ruston couldn’t argue with any of that, but he had a bad feeling about where Gracelyn was going with this. Still, he sat there and heard her out.

“Before today, I thought Abigail was the target,” she continued. She pulled on her panties and then the jogging pants. “But I think they wanted her only because they could sell her. They didn’t come after her here at the ranch. Thank God,” she added in a mutter. “They came after us instead. So, we’re their priority.”

Again, he couldn’t argue. In fact, he could take this line of thought one step further. “You’re thinking Abigail would be safer away from us.”

She nodded, but he saw the dread that was causing. For all intents and purposes, Gracelyn had become Abigail’s mother, and it would crush her to have to leave the baby. Still, it would crush her even more if Abigail was hurt because some thugs were coming after Ruston and her.

But there was even more to this.

More that had Ruston muttering some profanity.

“You’re thinking of making ourselves bait,” he spelled out. He cursed while he finished putting on his clothes and his shoulder holster.

“Bait with a plan,” she said, and she continued talking despite his groan. “We could leave Abigail here with lots of protection. Lots,” she emphasized. “I mean security that’s so tight, there’s no way anyone can get to her. Then you and I could draw out the killer. Because as you know, we’ll never be safe until the killer is caught.”

He did know that. But there was a part of this plan he didn’t like, and that was a huge understatement.

“You could have that same airtight security,” Ruston insisted. “You could be here with Abigail, and I could become the bait.”

She stared at him and took hold of his shoulders. “They want both of us, Ruston. If I’m here, they could come here. Or they just wait until something draws me out. I can’t stay holed up in here forever, and they know that.”

Ruston wanted to argue with her. Mercy, he did. Because he wanted to keep Gracelyn safe. He didn’t want her anywhere near the line of fire again.

“We’ve done undercover together before,” she added a moment later, “and this would be very similar.”

“Yeah, and the last time we were undercover together, we nearly died,” he reminded her.

“Because someone betrayed us or made us as cops. Maybe Zimmer. Maybe Charla or Tony. Heck, maybe it was Devin, since he seems to be connected to everything that’s happening. But for this, we make the plan. This time, only people we trust will know what’s going on.”

That would be a given, but he still wasn’t on board. “So, what? We set up somewhere and lure the killer to us? Because he won’t be alone. And, heck, might not come at all. He could send more hired thugs like he did at the sheriff’s office.”

“He might be running out of hired thugs,” she muttered. “But if he’s not, then the plan should include capturing at least one of them and getting him to talk.”

Ruston huffed because there were so many things that could go wrong with this plan, and Gracelyn no doubt saw the skepticism that was still all over his face.

“Let’s map it out like an op,” she went on. “Then we can identify any weak spots and fix them. Only then do we go in. Only then do we put this into motion.”

“And what if the op is mapped out, and there are weak spots we can’t eliminate?” he asked.

“Then we come up with another plan, one where we can make it as safe as possible.”

Which wouldn’t be very safe if they were literally putting themselves out there as bait. Unfortunately, he thought the bait would work. The killer seemed desperate to eliminate them. Still...

His phone lit up again, and this time, it was Slater’s name on the screen. Yeah, no one other than Abigail was getting much sleep tonight. Slater hadn’t sent a text but was calling instead.

Hell.

This couldn’t be good, and he hoped the killer hadn’t already launched an attack here at the ranch.

Since Ruston didn’t want the sound of Slater’s voice waking the baby, he didn’t put the call on speaker. “Slater,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got a report that SAPD found another body,” Slater said.

That caused everything inside him to clench. “Is it Allie?” he asked.

“No,” Slater was quick to answer.

Even though he hadn’t put the call on speaker, Gracelyn obviously heard that, and she made a sharp sound of relief.

“SAPD thinks this one is a suicide. Or at least it was set up to look that way, with a single gunshot wound to the head,” Slater explained. “The dead guy is Zimmer.”