Chapter Sixteen

Everything inside Ruston was a tight tangle of nerves and adrenaline. He’d been in high-stakes situations before, one of those with Gracelyn, but that had been different. She’d been armed then, and they’d been together. Now she was alone, hurt and with a thug who’d kill her in a blink.

And he’d taken her to the baby farm.

Ruston didn’t want to think about what kind of mental torture that was for her. He didn’t want to think about what her captor might be doing to her either. That would only shatter what little focus he had, and right now, that focus was what he needed to get to her in time.

He used the hands-free system while he sped down the road, and he called Duncan. “Where are you?” Duncan immediately asked.

“I got a call from the man who’s got Gracelyn. He’s taking her to the baby farm.”

Ruston heard Duncan slam on his brakes. He was obviously changing directions as well, and since he didn’t ask for the address, it meant he already knew the location. Then again, just about everyone in local law enforcement did.

“Did you recognize the guy’s voice?” Duncan asked.

“No, because he was using a voice distorter,” Ruston was quick to say. “He wants the username and password that Zimmer had tatted on him. He says I’m to come alone or Gracelyn will die.”

Of course, Ruston knew the plan would be to kill both Gracelyn and him once he had what he wanted. Ruston had to figure out a way, fast, to make sure that didn’t happen.

“How the hell did that...?” Duncan started, but he stopped and cursed. “Zimmer might have told someone about the tats, someone who then passed along that info to the killer. Or else the ME’s office has a leak,” he concluded.

Either was possible, but Zimmer didn’t seem as if he trusted anyone enough to share that kind of info. But Ruston immediately rethought that. He could have trusted Tony or Charla. Especially Charla since he’d been her confidential informant.

“I’m guessing the ME filed a report,” Ruston said, “and it was either hacked or accessed.”

The hacking would point to Devin. The accessing to either Charla or Tony. Which meant they still couldn’t use this to confirm the identity of the killer. But Zimmer had likely known that, or had had such strong suspicions, anyway, that he’d then put in that file.

“I can text you the username and password,” Duncan said, the hesitation coating his voice. “But we don’t know what’s in that file yet. Heck, we don’t even know where the file’s been stored. The techs say it’s like looking for a tiny needle in a massive cyber haystack.”

“I’m guessing the killer knows that,” Ruston concluded. “So, he could have knowledge of where the file is. Maybe he got that from something he found when he killed Zimmer.”

Maybe, though, the killer would have to do the same search of that cyber haystack as the tech guys. If so, it’d be a race to see who got there first. If the killer did, then he’d certainly erase everything. But all of that would take time.

Time that Gracelyn didn’t have.

“I’m about three miles out from the baby farm,” Ruston explained. “Once I’m closer, I’ll turn off my headlights. They’ll know I’m coming and will be looking for me, but I’m hoping to get close, park and then go on foot.”

Duncan cursed again. “I’m at least five miles out. I would ask you to wait for me, but I know you won’t. I wouldn’t if it were Joelle being held.”

“I can’t wait,” Ruston confirmed. “But when you get here, do a silent approach. I don’t want to give the killer any excuse to pull the trigger.”

“Will do,” Duncan confirmed. “I’ll text you the username and password after I hang up. Be careful, Ruston.”

“I will.” And he would. But that might not be nearly enough. “You, too.”

Ruston ended the call and had to slow down to take the final turn toward the baby farm. He drove way too fast on the poor excuse for a road, and as he’d told Duncan, he turned off his headlights when he was about a half mile out. That certainly didn’t make driving any easier, but at least there was a moon tonight, and the meager light might stop him from running off the road.

Might.

He rethought that when he hit a deep pothole, and he had to grapple with the steering wheel to stay out of the deep ditches that were on both sides of him.

And that was when he saw it.

The movement from the corner of his eye. Someone running, not on the road but through the grassy area adjacent to it.

His heart crashed against his ribs when he realized it was Gracelyn. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, and she was firing glances behind her. Someone was chasing her.

Since there was no way he could drive to her, Ruston stopped and got out. He couldn’t call out to her because he didn’t want to alert the killer to their positions. Instead, Ruston jumped over the ditch and started toward her.

He knew the exact moment when she spotted him. Her head whipped up, and she changed directions. She ran to him.

She didn’t get far before a shot rang out.

Ruston felt the slam of fear. The fresh adrenaline. The need to get to Gracelyn now, now, now. If the bullet had hit her, she hadn’t gone down. She was still running, and he quickly ate up the distance between them. Ruston immediately took hold of her and dragged her to the ground.

Just as another shot slammed into the dirt a few feet from them.

Ruston followed the direction of the shot and saw the gunman. He had his gas mask shoved up on his head, giving Ruston a look at his face. He didn’t recognize him, which meant this was a hired gun.

The thug was trying to take aim while he was running. That was probably why he’d missed with the other two shots. That wouldn’t last, though. He’d soon stop, and then Gracelyn and he would be way too easy targets.

“Stay down and let’s move,” Ruston instructed. He wanted to pull her into his arms, wanted to tell her...so many things. But that was going to have to wait. Maybe he’d get the chance to say those things when this was over.

A third shot came. And a fourth. All too close but still thankfully not hitting the intended mark.

The moment Ruston reached the ditch, he dropped down into it with Gracelyn. It was about three feet deep, so they crouched down, but Ruston knew they couldn’t stay this way. The gunman would almost certainly be coming for them, and if he managed to approach at the right angle, Gracelyn and he wouldn’t be able to see the guy until it was too late.

Ruston quickly took out his small pocketknife so he could cut the cuffs from Gracelyn’s wrists. It twisted away at him to see that blood on her forehead, but she didn’t seem to be in pain. Like him, she was firing glances at the rim of the ditch, watching for the gunman.

The second he’d removed the cuffs, he took out his backup weapon and handed it to her. Then he peered over the top of the ditch. He braced for a shot to be fired at him. But it didn’t come.

And the gunman was nowhere in sight.

Hell.

Where had he gone? There were some wild shrubs, and he could have ducked behind one of those. It was too much to hope that he’d just run off.

He saw some movement from a high patch of grass that was about five yards away, and Ruston turned in that direction so he could take aim. And he waited. Watched. Listened. Knowing that Gracelyn was doing the same thing.

There was a soft clicking sound, and he was pretty sure it came from the same grassy area. Moments later, a cloud of white smoke spewed out into the air.

More tear gas.

It wouldn’t have the same potent effect as it had inside the hospital, but it could be just as dangerous, considering it was coming right at Gracelyn and him. Once the gas got to their eyes and throats, they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.

“Stay low and move down the ditch,” Ruston whispered.

There was a huge disadvantage to that since the thug would be behind him. He’d no doubt be wearing a mask and could use the cloud of gas to conceal himself until he was right on them.

They moved, not as fast as he wanted, but Gracelyn and he scrambled away from the gas. But even over their movements, he heard another of those clicks. Heard the canister drop into the ditch.

And more tear gas came their way.

The moment the gas hit him, Ruston was right back where he’d been at the hospital. Coughing. Eyes burning. No way to fight back. Gracelyn was ahead of him, and she thankfully kept moving. Ruston tried to do that, too, but he heard another sound. Not the click of a canister being triggered.

The thud of someone dropping down into the ditch behind him.

Before Ruston could even turn, there was more movement. And he felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of his head.

“Cooperate,” the man snarled, “or I shoot your woman in the back.”

G RACELYN KEPT MOVING . Her eyes were stinging, but she thought she was staying just ahead of the worst of the gas. It wasn’t a thick cloud but more of a mist. Added to that, the night breeze was dispersing what there was of it. If Ruston and she could just make it a few more feet, they wouldn’t get the worst of it and would be able to defend themselves.

She glanced behind her.

And her heart stopped. It certainly felt like it, anyway.

She saw Ruston, not crouching. He was standing now, and not by choice either. There was a man wearing a gas mask behind him, and he was holding Ruston at gunpoint.

“You both throw down your guns,” the guy in the gas mask ordered.

Ruston was coughing, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been during the other attack. Gracelyn just wished she could better see Ruston’s eyes so she could tell if he’d been hurt. But her own eyes were still stinging, and the moonlight was creating plenty of shadows on his face.

“Guns down now,” the thug insisted. “I’ve got a clear shot of your woman,” he added to Ruston.

And he did. All the gunman had to do was aim in her direction and fire. There was nothing she could dart behind for cover, and if she tried to scramble out of the ditch, he’d likely just shoot her.

But why hadn’t he just done that already?

And why hadn’t he finished off Ruston instead of putting a gun to his head?

Because with both Ruston and her alive, they could be used against each other. Leverage. This snake and his boss had to know that she would cooperate to keep Ruston from being killed and vice versa.

“Last chance,” the guy warned them. “Guns down now.”

Ruston’s Glock slid from his hand and dropped on the ground at his feet. Gracelyn knew what that had cost him, to lose the primary way to defend them. But he’d had no choice.

Neither did she.

Gracelyn dropped her gun as well, but she didn’t toss it. She wanted it as close to her as possible. That way, if she got the chance to use it, she wouldn’t have to reach that far.

“What now?” Ruston demanded.

“We walk and get the hell away from this gas,” he answered right away. “Go to the baby farm. You got somebody there who’s anxious to see you.”

Gracelyn felt the fresh jolt of adrenaline, and she forced herself not to think of the other attack. Those images weren’t going to help her think more clearly, and right now, she had to think. She had to figure a way out of this.

“Out of the ditch,” the man ordered. “And remember that part about me shooting one of you? I will, you know. In fact, I’ll get paid a bonus, so don’t test my patience.”

A bonus. She hadn’t needed more proof that this was a hired thug, but there it was. Someone—maybe Charla, Tony or Devin—had paid this guy to do the dirty work. That could include murder. In fact, that was no doubt the killer’s plan after Ruston spilled the username and password.

The thug shoved Ruston out of the ditch first, following quickly behind him and putting the gun back to Ruston’s head. A silent warning for Gracelyn not to try anything. Not yet. But leaving the ditch meant leaving their guns behind, and Ruston wouldn’t have a backup weapon on him since he’d given it to her.

But there would be backup.

No way would Duncan let Ruston come here alone. The sheriff was no doubt on his way, but he couldn’t just come in with sirens blaring. He’d have to do a silent approach, but hopefully that meant he was making his way to them now.

“You stay ahead of us,” the thug told Gracelyn. “And go ahead and put your hands on your head so I can see them.”

She did as he said, and they started walking. The air cleared even more as they moved away from the ditch and back on the road. Her eyes were still stinging a little, but she could clearly see the building ahead.

And the shadowy figure that stepped out from it.

Gracelyn couldn’t tell who it was, and the person stayed back enough so that she couldn’t get a good look at him or her.

“Good,” the thug muttered. “The boss is coming out to meet us. Might get home in time to watch the game.”

It sickened her that he was being so flippant about this. Then again, she figured the other hired guns had been pretty much the same. Well, maybe not Zimmer. But the one who’d attacked with Zimmer had fired shots at the SUV with Abigail inside, and the two goons in the sheriff’s office hadn’t seemed to care how many people they killed to get to their targets.

“So, it’s just you and the boss,” she remarked.

He chuckled. “Honey, I’m the only one the boss needs to finish this.”

She thought he was telling the truth. Hoped he was, anyway. She didn’t want an army of hired thugs waiting for them.

Gracelyn purposely slowed her steps just a little, not because she wanted to delay facing down the killer. No. She was to the point that she wanted to know the person responsible. But she slowed down so that she could try to get closer to Ruston. If the thug was right, this was a two-on-two situation, and while Ruston and she weren’t armed, that didn’t mean they were defenseless. If they couldn’t stall the killer until backup arrived, then they might have to fight their way out of here.

Again.

“And before either of you think about running again,” the gunman went on, “my orders are, I lose you two, then I’m to go after the kid.”

Oh, the anger came. Boiling hot. A full rage that Gracelyn had to fight to tamp down before she turned and clawed out this snake’s eyes. How dare he threaten that little baby. And he was going to pay for that threat. She wasn’t sure how, but he would pay.

So would the piece of slime that was waiting for them.

“Glad you could come,” the killer said.

And he stepped out so Gracelyn could finally see his face.

D EVIN WAS SMILING when he walked toward them.

Smiling and gloating.

Ruston intended to make sure Devin didn’t have those reactions for long. The goon’s threats to Gracelyn and Abigail had been more than enough to fuel Ruston’s anger, and it had seethed and soared with each step toward this miserable person in this miserable place.

Devin was armed, of course. He had a SIG Sauer in both hands, which he probably thought made him look like a cool bad guy.

“The Green Eagle,” Ruston said like a mock greeting.

Devin shrugged. “I’m not going to come out and admit that,” he said. “I mean, since I’d be incriminating myself. Oops.” He laughed. “I guess I just did. There goes some of my bargaining power.” Using the guns, he put those last two words in air quotes.

“Your plan was to tell me that you’d let Gracelyn live if I gave you what you wanted,” Ruston spelled out for him.

“Why, yes.” There it was again, that smugness that only fueled Ruston’s anger. “But you would have never fallen for that anyway. Gracelyn wouldn’t have either. You both know how this has to end.”

“Yeah, you eliminate everyone who can put you in a cage,” Gracelyn muttered.

“True. And so far, so good,” he bragged.

Ruston wished he could have disputed that, but with the exception of this lone gunman, the others were dead. Marty, Simon, Archie and three hired guns. There were likely others who had been silenced in the aftermath of the baby farm.

“So far, so good,” Devin repeated. “And that’s why I need the info that Zimmer left behind.”

“How did you know about it?” Ruston asked, shifting his weight so he’d be able to either drop down or lunge at Devin. Ahead of him, Ruston could see Gracelyn doing the same thing.

“Computer leaks,” Devin admitted. “The ME isn’t very careful about what he puts in his reports. He mentioned the tats, but he didn’t give specifics.” He paused. “I want specifics. Oh, wait. You need a reason to give it to me. How about a quick, easy death for Gracelyn? As opposed to me making it very, very painful.”

“Your hired gun said you would go after Abigail,” Gracelyn said, and Ruston heard the razor edge in her voice.

Again, Devin shrugged. “Only as a last resort.”

Ruston saw the lie on Devin’s face. Devin wouldn’t come out now and say that he had planned on taking the baby all along because he probably hadn’t wanted to give Gracelyn and Ruston a reason to stay alive.

A reason to fight.

But Gracelyn and he already had that reason. They both loved Abigail, and if they literally rolled over and died, it would leave the baby at the mercy of this monster. That wasn’t going to happen.

“You were going to kidnap and sell your own daughter,” Gracelyn spit out. “Or maybe she isn’t yours.”

“She is,” Devin verified. “Allie brought me a sample of her DNA because she wanted to prove that I was the father. I’m not sure why she thought it was so important to prove, because I didn’t give a rat. Still don’t.”

Ruston was glad Gracelyn was keeping Devin talking. Anything to distract him. Anything to buy them some time.

And right now, he needed a weapon.

“You didn’t kill Allie, though,” Gracelyn pointed out. “Is she still a loose end?”

He laughed. “Your sister knows nothing, but I figured I could use her in a roundabout way to get the baby. I mean, if Allie ends up in jail, then I get custody. After I prove paternity, that is, and I can prove it. So can you now that the good sheriff took my DNA. He probably did that, hoping to find something to incriminate me, but the only thing that DNA will prove is that I have a legal right to my biological child.”

A child he’d end up selling first chance he got.

And that wasn’t all the dirty dealings this SOB had done.

“You’re the one who blew our covers,” Ruston snapped. “How did you even know we were cops?”

Devin shrugged as if that were nothing. No big deal that Gracelyn and he had nearly died. “I make a habit of using a hacker to check out anyone and everyone I do business with. A hacker who breaks many rules to tap into things like police databases and such.” He narrowed his eyes at them. “If you two had died then and there, I wouldn’t have to be going through this mess right now.”

Ruston was already fuming, but that only added to the flames. He glanced around for something, anything, he could use to fight back. There wasn’t anything, which meant he was going to have to do this with his bare hands. He was gearing up to ram his elbow into the thug’s gut when there was a flash of headlights. They cut through the darkness at the end of the road and then disappeared.

Both Devin and the thug glanced in that direction.

And Ruston made his move.

With the thug’s slight shift of his body, Ruston went for a more direct attack. He turned and slammed his fist into the guy’s face. He heard the satisfying sound of cartilage breaking. Blood spewed, and the man howled.

From the corner of his eye, Ruston saw Gracelyn dive toward Devin’s legs, tackling him and knocking him back against the building. Ruston cursed, though, when he saw that Devin had managed to hang on to both his guns, but the disadvantage of that was it didn’t free up his hands to fight back. Then again, he wouldn’t need to actually fight if he could get off a shot.

He did.

The blast tore through the air, the sound tearing through Ruston, and he was terrified that Gracelyn had just been shot. He latched on to the still-howling, still-bleeding thug and dragged him in front of him.

Just in time.

Because there was another shot, and Devin had aimed this one at Ruston. But the bullet meant for him slammed into the thug’s chest. He dropped like a stone, giving Devin a clear path to shoot Ruston.

But Gracelyn stopped that from happening.

She kicked the gun from Devin’s right hand and sent it flying. Devin pulled the trigger of the second gun, but it was a wild shot that didn’t come anywhere near Ruston or her. Thank God. However, Devin immediately tried to shift the weapon to his right hand.

And worse.

During the shift, he bashed Gracelyn on the head, knocking her away from him.

Everything seemed to shift to slow motion. Even the sound of Gracelyn’s voice yelling to him, “Get down.”

Ruston did get down. He dived to the ground, scooping up the thug’s gun, and the second he had hold of it, he took aim. Even though she was clearly dazed from the blow, Gracelyn scurried away from Devin, giving Ruston a clear shot.

Which he took.

It seemed as if Devin and he pulled the triggers in that same heartbeat of time. Devin missed.

Ruston didn’t.

He double tapped the trigger and sent two shots directly into Devin’s chest. Devin froze, the shock registering on his face as his gun slid from his hand. Then he flashed that cocky smile one last time before he took in his dying breath.

Gracelyn’s gaze connected with Ruston’s. For just a second. And they moved. She toward the thug and Ruston toward Devin. Both of them checked to make sure killer and henchman were truly finished.

“He’s dead,” Ruston verified after touching his fingers to Devin’s neck.

“He is, too,” Gracelyn confirmed. She stared down at the goon, and her face tightened. She cursed the dead monster.

“Are you all right?” someone called out.

Ruston automatically took aim a split second before he realized it was Duncan. He was on foot, and he was running up the road toward them.

“We’re alive,” Ruston settled for saying. “But Devin and his hired gun aren’t.”

Ruston considered calling that in, but it appeared Duncan was already doing that. Instead, Ruston focused on Gracelyn. In addition to the blood on the side of her head, she had a nasty bruise on her face from where Devin had hit her.

Seeing that made him want to go after Devin all over again, but he pulled her into his arms. And held her.

“They were going after Abigail,” she muttered. “They were going to kill us and go after her.”

“Yeah,” he managed to say through the vised muscles in his throat.

Gracelyn’s head whipped up, and she looked him straight in the eyes. “We need to check on her. We need to make sure Abigail is okay.”

Ruston didn’t argue. They started running toward Duncan and the cruiser.