Love Inspired Suspense June 2021--Box Set 1 of 2, page 39
“Funny, she’s never mentioned you.”
Trey winced. Not speaking of him was better than telling the whole world how much she detested him. He hadn’t spotted a Trey-shaped dartboard. That was a positive, and although she hadn’t been oozing with kindness, she’d been decent in their communications.
“I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“This yours?” Will called.
Trey halted and turned, then walked to where Will stood beside his gun.
“Yes.” Snagging the weapon, Trey checked the bullets. All removed. Convenient. And how did Will just happen to know where to find it? Trey tucked the Glock into his holster. Why remove his gun and then leave it lying on the ground? He continued the trek across the pasture. “Did you see anyone?”
“Nope. In case you ain’t noticed, Trooper, light isn’t really plentiful out here.”
“Did you hear anything? A vehicle?”
Will snorted. “You got dirt in your ears? Your dog was it.”
Trey increased his pace, desperate to get to Justine. They reached the edge of the yard just as an ear-piercing blast exploded.
The force had Trey ducking and protecting Magnum.
Trey turned, shielding his eyes from the consuming flash of light engulfing the house. Ears ringing with agonizing intensity, Trey pressed a hand against his head to still the noise. He blinked to clear his vision. “Justine!”
Jumping to his feet, he bolted for the home, Magnum running beside him in an awkward three-legged gait. Why were his limbs so heavy? Trey pumped his arms, willing his body to get to Justine faster.
Please, God, let her be alive.
His mind raced. Less than an hour since finding Justine, and he’d lost her.
Why had he left her alone? He’d stood not more than twenty feet away, wasting precious time with Will while some maniac hurt Justine.
Trey had failed to protect someone.
Again.
* * *
She would die tonight. Justine squeezed her eyes against the blinding explosion of light emitting from her farmhouse and prayed the home didn’t go up in flames.
Lord, not fire. Please not ever again.
Even from her position beneath the canopy of trees at the far side of the ranch, her ears rang from the blast.
She recognized the diversion tactic, a sort of flash-bang, typically used by law enforcement. Though how her captor had managed to set it off from a remote detonation device eluded her.
“That’ll keep ’em busy.” Her captor chuckled.
“Don’t hurt them!”
He snorted. “Shut up. You better be grateful I didn’t kill the cop and his mutt.” Under his breath, he mumbled, “Shoulda double dosed the dog though. We coulda been long gone by now if he hadn’t barked and woke the old codger.”
He’d drugged Magnum? That explained why he hadn’t alerted Trey.
The man glared at her. “Woulda saved us both some trouble if you’d just handed over the book. I came prepared this time.”
Justine jerked to look at him, his comment confirming he was the same man who’d abducted her earlier in the evening. She watched in horror as Trey, Magnum and Will bounded from the far pasture. Grateful they were alive, she stared helplessly as they called out her name.
They’d search the house, and by the time they realized she wasn’t there, she’d be dead. The overgrown foliage that bordered the north side of her property provided the camouflage her captor needed and prevented the men from seeing her.
Had the whole scene not been terrifying, she’d assess the criminal’s distraction as rather ingenious. Though she wasn’t gagged, the sharp tip of the gun’s muzzle pressed against the back of her head kept her quiet and at his mercy. What recourse did she have but to obey him and pray she found a way of escape? Or if she gave him the diary, maybe he’d let her go.
No superhero to rescue her.
She was on her own.
The man made no effort to disguise himself. An indicator he intended to kill her.
Dead people couldn’t testify.
“There’s nothing in the diary. Why do you want it?” she blurted, working her negotiator-skills training for all it was worth.
“Too late. You had your chance to hand over the book. Now you can deal with them.”
“Them?” Who did he work for? Keep him talking.
“Justine!” Trey’s cries carried across the land, tearing at her heart.
“Hel—” Her plea was cut off by her captor’s boa constrictor arm encircling her neck. The gun pressed harder against her temple.
The man dragged her deeper into the tree line. His hold squeezed the air from her lungs. She kicked, fighting to breathe.
He loosened his grip and shoved a gag in her mouth, then secured it with a piece of tape. He finished the adornment with zip ties around her wrists. Her one advantage was he didn’t bind her arms behind her. But timing was crucial.
“Don’t get no bright ideas. Try to run and I’ll break your legs.”
Somehow, she didn’t doubt his threat, and since he hadn’t bound her ankles again, she’d take the win.
“You can be a good girl and shimmy between the wires. Or I’ll just throw you over.”
Justine swallowed against the gag that eliminated any chance of speaking. She nodded.
“Smart.” He went first, ducking between the fence cables. His beefy hand gripped her arm, yanking Justine forward.
She maneuvered through, catching her shoe on the wire and stumbling. She reached out to stop her fall, but the man’s grip tightened, and he tugged harder, sending a volt of agony up her arm. He jerked again, nearly pulling Justine’s shoulder out of the socket.
The gag muffled her cry of pain.
He lugged her to a four-seater UTV parked and hidden behind a large bale of hay. Justine recognized Richardson’s three hundred acres. A cow mooed nearby, as if confirming her supposition.
Would Richardson hear her if she screamed?
“Don’t even think about it,” the perp warned, as though hearing her thoughts. “Make one sound, and they’re all dead. Including your mutts.”
Justine’s mind whirled with possibilities and none of them pleasant. She had to escape before they got in the UTV.
“Get in.”
An idea bloomed. He was at least a foot taller than her. She’d need to stand on the floorboards to be eye level with him.
Justine clamped her hands together, forming a large fist, while he assisted her onto the UTV. She turned and thrust her bound wrists upward.
The crack of his nose confirmed solid contact.
He swore. Then, in a flash, he retaliated by smacking her with a powerful slap across the face.
Justine flew backward, landing hard on the ground beside the UTV. She scrambled to her feet, and using the vehicle as a barrier, she scurried around it.
“I’m going to kill you!” The man stalked her, arms outstretched like a wide net. He dodged from side to side, cackling as he toyed with her.
Justine surveyed the distance. For all his bulk, she prayed he wasn’t fast.
She jumped to the right, faking him out, then lunged in the opposite direction, straining for the freedom beyond the fence line. Her bound wrists made running difficult, but Justine pushed on.
Heavy pounding and breaths behind her propelled Justine to run harder.
Almost there.
The diary beat against her thigh, hidden inside her khaki shorts pocket.
Justine’s fingers grazed the fence just as the man tackled her to the ground, knocking the wind from her lungs. His hands were on her ankles in an instant. He yanked her back, flipping her over.
“You’ll pay for that.” He hefted Justine into the air and hoisted her over his shoulder.
The impact and constant jolting of her stomach sent a wave of nausea through her. She swallowed down the rising bile burning her throat. With her bound arms, she stretched out her fingers, grasping the corner of the tape, and tugged. The tape ripped the gag out too, and she dropped both.
Justine tried to scream, but the lack of breath diluted the sound.
The man’s massive torso was like a brick wall, yet she was unrelenting. Justine fought and kicked against his stranglehold on her legs. He squeezed tighter, and shooting pain exploded through her thighs.
She refused to give in.
With her bound hands, she beat on his back, aiming for his kidneys. Twice she made contact, and the man jerked in spasm. On her third attempt, she struck pay dirt.
He lost his hold, dropping Justine. She landed on the hard ground next to the UTV. Air whooshed from her lungs, and she gasped.
Before she could respond, the man’s Texas-sized boot settled on her chest, pinning her in place.
He reached up and grabbed something from the front seat. Then he squatted beside her, smothering her face with a cloth.
Her nose filled with a sickening sweet smell.
Ether.
Justine held her breath, willing her body not to inhale the anesthetic. She had only seconds before she’d be forced to breathe.
She wriggled, turning her head from side to side. He was linebacker huge and unyielding.
The battle to stay conscious warred with her body’s desperation for oxygen. Justine’s vision blurred, and her eyes bulged from the pressure. Her lungs were ablaze, exploding behind her rib cage.
Not yet.
Her attacker knelt on her chest, pressing the cloth harder over her face.
If she didn’t get free, she’d pass out for real.
Air. She needed air.
And fast.
Lord, I can’t hold on anymore. Please help me.
Fake him out. The thought sprouted to her mind unbidden, providing the only option left. Convince him she’d gone unconscious. Justine stopped fighting and closed her eyes, allowing her other senses to heighten.
The boot weight lifted from her chest, and he hoisted her up in a fireman’s carry.
The cloth fell to the ground, and Justine inhaled slowly so as not to draw attention, though her lungs begged for more. He laid her across what she assumed was the back seat of the UTV. Then the vehicle rocked as he slid behind the steering wheel.
Justine opened her eyes.
The engine roared to life.
This was her one chance.
When the UTV lurched forward, Justine rolled off the seat, onto the floorboard, and pushed up to her knees. She leaped off the side and into the pasture.
With hands still bound, she sprinted for the fence.
“Trey! Will! Help!”
The UTV turned, headlights beaming behind her. He was coming back!
Justine swerved, rounding a hay bale, and lunged for the fence line.
She reached the wires and ducked between them.
“Trey! Will!”
Light bounced from the porch, a beacon calling her home.
Justine ran with everything in her. “Help!”
Barks erupted, and she aimed for the familiar sight of the Belgian Malinois hobbling across the property.
The UTV stopped, changed direction, and the whir of the engine faded behind her.
Justine didn’t look back.
“Justine!” Trey closed the distance between them, but Magnum reached her first.
She fell to her knees, chest heaving with exertion, and fought to catch her breath.
Trey braced and helped Justine to stand. “What happened?”
“He. I. Eth.” Justine couldn’t get out the words.
“It’s okay. Just breathe,” Trey said, holding on to her.
She crumpled against him. Needing his strength.
Will hurried up beside them. “What happened?” The grumpy exterior was gone, and he reached for her. “Are you okay?”
Dizziness consumed Justine, and she swayed. Finally catching her breath, she said, “The same man from earlier. He got away. On the UTV. Richardson’s land.”
“And he used the flash-bang to distract us,” Trey assessed.
Justine nodded.
“Let’s get you inside.”
The group made their way across the property and into the house. The smell of smoke filled the living room, increasing Justine’s nausea. Childhood memories flooded her mind, creating a vise over her chest.
“I need air.” She rushed to the swing and inhaled long and deep, clearing her lungs. Justine gripped the banister, anchoring her shaking body to the porch.
Trey joined her. “We have to leave.”
Justine shook her head. “No. Not until I’m sure the boys are safe.”
“They’re fine, and I’ll be here to watch over them,” Will assured her.
“See?” Trey pleaded. “Justine, we need to get out of here. We’ll work on a sketch of the guy while your memory is fresh. There’s a great artist in Lincoln.”
Justine dropped onto the porch swing, gazing out on the inky landscape. Anger ignited. “I can draw the sketch myself. This is my home. No bully is scaring me off my land.”
Trey sighed. “Will, would you mind giving us a minute alone?”
She glanced up. Her hired hand hesitated, gaze bouncing between Justine and Trey.
“If the guy returns, we need to make sure we’re ready. Do you have any other weapons?” Trey asked.
Will nodded. “Yeah. Ain’t no one getting close to Justine again.” He stepped off the porch. “I’ll check the garage and my stash.”
After he’d disappeared around the side of the house, Justine said, “Trey, I can’t leave the boys. If anything happened to them...”
“Will promised to take care of your dogs. If I have to ask my brother to come and haul the whole crew to my home, I’ll do it.”
She laughed at the image.
“I’ll request Slade patrol the property personally. Whatever it takes. Okay?” Trey’s blue eyes bored into her, embracing her. How long since someone had offered to reach out a helping hand?
No. Dependency was a trap that morphed into a weakness.
Justine averted her gaze and changed the topic. “Slade’s still a trooper?” Fabulous.
She’d known Trey’s older brother, Slade, only as an acquaintance when they’d attended the same social events. But the family was renowned. The kind of people who’d warn Trey away from less than desirables.
Like me.
“He’d love to see you.”
A happy reunion invading her ranch solace, where she’d just escaped with her life, wasn’t in her plans. “I’ve unleashed a monster. Who wants the diary so bad? I haven’t seen anything so incriminating it’ll pinpoint one specific person. At least, not yet.”
“Clearly someone fears the contents.”
Justine filled Trey in on the encounter.
“He drugged my dog? That explains a lot.” Trey leaned against the spindled porch rails. “How did you get over there?”
“I should’ve listened to you. I heard meowing from the far side of the house. I always leave the windows open. You’ve experienced firsthand how stuffy the place gets. Anyway, I was looking for Clover. Thought she locked herself in the closet again. She does that sometimes. When I reached the back room, the sound came from near the window. I leaned out to call to her.” She swallowed, shivering at the memory. “He dragged me through before I realized what was happening.”
Trey ran a hand over his head. “I never should’ve left you. I didn’t think the guy would have the nerve to show up again tonight.”
“Did he hurt you or Magnum?” Her mind reeled at Trey’s breakdown of the night’s events. “Thankfully, he didn’t kill all of you and Will found you when he did.”
Trey hesitated a moment too long.
“What are you trying not to say?”
“Have you considered the possibility Will’s working with this maniac?”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Trey held up his hand. “Hear me out.”
Justine bit her lip.
“I’ll be honest—I’m not sure what to think of Will. He could’ve killed me and didn’t. But he might’ve lured me outside to give the kidnapper time to get to you.”
“No, Will helped you,” Justine insisted.
“Consider this. The distance from the thicket to the house is expansive. He couldn’t be in two places at once. If Will was the one hiding in the tree, he would’ve been perfectly placed to knock me unconscious.”
She couldn’t refute the argument beyond a shadow of a doubt. At least, not to Trey’s satisfaction. But in her heart, she knew Will wouldn’t do that.
Still, she’d been a bad judge of character once before... Thoughts of her ex-fiancé Simon returned. He’d blinded her with false promises for their life together while stealing everything she owned. Thanks to Simon’s betrayal, Justine learned the importance of caution and careful behavioral assessments.
Justine shook her head, then stopped when the world started spinning. “No way. Will isn’t like you think. You’ve misjudged him. You saw how upset he was.”
Trey shrugged. “You have to admit the events were conveniently timed.”
Justine averted her eyes. No. Admitting Will was a criminal meant she’d inaccurately assessed her employee. Behavioral science was her forte. Her superpower. The one thing besides her animals that gave her life meaning.
Misjudging Will meant she’d failed to identify a traitor under her roof. And if she couldn’t spot an offender under her own nose, how could she correctly perform her job in other cases? Most important, how could she develop the profile for Kayla’s case?
Failure meant she was incapable of her profession.
Failure wasn’t an option.
“I understand you not wanting to leave your home, but I think it’s evident whoever is after this diary isn’t going to stop.”
“I agree, but it’s late. Surely the guy won’t return tonight.”
Trey withdrew his notepad. “Let’s run through everything you remember. Did the kidnapper say anything?”
