Cowboy Behind the Badge (6 page)

Of course that meant assuming the woman was totally innocent in all of this. And that she was indeed trying to protect her babies. But maybe the men killed her for a different reason, and finding that reason would only be possible if they first learned her identity. Hopefully the blood Reed had found would help with that.

“Come on.” Tucker grabbed some towels from the adjoining bathroom. “Reed will be here soon, and I need to get the babies and you to the hospital for checkups.”

Laine gave a shaky nod, probably because she wasn't thrilled about going outside, where the missing gunman might spot her. “And then what?”

“Protective custody. A safe house.”

Another nod. She wrapped the babies each in the towels. Not ideal cover, but it was better than using the damp blanket Laine had used to hold them earlier.

“Can you manage to carry both of them?” he asked. It was a strange question, because she'd carried them across the pasture to get to his house, but she was more shaken up now. After all, she'd just come darn close to dying.

“Yes.” And her attention went to the belt holster he'd just put on. Then to the backup weapon he slid into the back of his jeans.

“I'll pull the truck right up to the steps,” he assured her. “By the time we make it to the road, Reed should be here.”

Tucker had barely made it a step before he heard the sound of a car engine. He hurried to the front window, expecting to see Reed's truck, but it was a black four-door sedan.

“What's wrong?” Laine asked, obviously noticing the change in his body language.

“Maybe nothing.” Of course, it felt like something since it could be their attacker returning.

However, the man who stepped out from the car wasn't the escaped gunman. This guy was in his late twenties and had pale blond hair. He was wearing a dark gray suit, with no sign of a weapon. He ducked his head against the storm and ran toward the porch.

The man wasn't alone. There was someone else in the car, but Tucker could only make out a silhouette because of the rain-streaked windows.

“You know him?” Laine asked.

“No. Wait here and stay away from the windows.” Tucker didn't move until she had the babies back by the bed before he drew his gun and started for the door. Their visitor knocked just as he got there. He swung open the door and asked the guy to identify himself.

“Martin Hague,” the man said, but his voice trailed off to nothing but breath when he spotted Tucker's gun. “I heard on the drive over that you'd had some trouble out here.”

“Who'd you hear it from?” Tucker demanded, and he didn't even try to sound friendly.

“A nurse who works at the hospital. Someone from the ambulance called ahead and said they were bringing in a man who'd been wounded here. Good thing I was already on my way to your place.”

“Who the heck are you?” Yet another demand.

“Oh, I'm from social services.” He reached for his pocket, but he stopped when Tucker lifted his gun. “Just getting my ID.” He didn't continue until Tucker gave him the nod, and then he extracted a leather case with his credentials.

It looked official, but Tucker wasn't taking any chances. He didn't lower his gun. “What do you want?”

“I'm a social worker,” Hague said, as if the answer were obvious.

He took out a piece of paper and handed it to Tucker just as the other person stepped from the car. A man wearing a uniform and badge that Tucker instantly recognized. He was a Department of Public Safety officer.

“That paper should clarify everything for you,” Hague said. “We're here to take the babies.”

 

Chapter Six

Laine stayed away from the windows as Tucker had ordered, but because the babies had finally stopped fussing, she had no trouble understanding what Martin Hague had just said.

He was taking the babies.

She clutched them to her and kept listening. Laine couldn't hear every word they said, but she detected the concern in Tucker's voice. After everything they'd been through, that was probably normal, but this didn't feel normal to her.

Sweet heaven.

Laine hoped that feeling wasn't because she was starting to get attached to the babies. They weren't hers, and she couldn't keep them. Even if it squeezed at her heart to think of handing them over to this social worker.

“You don't have a court order?” Tucker asked.

That got her attention. Laine slipped out of the bedroom and into the living room so she could try to figure out what was going on.

“It's standard procedure to take minors into our protective custody when there's the possibility of danger,” Hague argued. “And from what I've learned, there's also a question of the infants' paternity.”

“They're already in protective custody,” Tucker snapped. “
Mine.
And this is an active crime scene. The babies' clothes need to be processed for evidence. And how the devil did you find out the babies were even here?”

“Your brother, Deputy Colt McKinnon, reported that two babies had been found. We had another anonymous report that a woman had fled an abusive situation with her newborn twins.”

Laine inched closer, and as if he sensed she was there, Hague's attention zoomed past Tucker and landed on her.

Or rather it landed on the babies.

“Are they all right? Were they hurt?” Hague moved as if to step around Tucker, but Tucker stepped directly in front of the babies, blocking Hague's path.

“They're fine,” Tucker growled. “Their mother, maybe not so much. It's possible she was murdered, and I need to do DNA tests on the babies to determine who they are and if they're connected to the woman in question.”

Hague seemed to ignore all of that. He kept his attention fastened to Laine. “You're the one who took them?”

“I
rescued
them.” Laine could instantly see why Tucker was stonewalling this man. Maybe it was just because he was inexperienced, but there was something off about him.

“Your Ranger friend seems to think he has jurisdiction here,” Hague said to her, aiming a glare at Tucker.

Tucker aimed one right back at him. He was far better at glaring than their guest. “Her Ranger friend is right. Someone just tried to kill us.” He pointed to the woods across from the house. “Someone who's no doubt hiding out in there somewhere. Maybe with a long-range rifle.”

Hague cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder before his gaze whipped back to Tucker. “How soon will you release the babies?”

“When I'm finished with them and when you have that court order.” Tucker stepped back and slammed the door in the man's face.

“You don't trust him?” Laine asked, inching closer so she could make sure Hague actually left. He did. The man stormed down the porch steps and got back in the car. He sped away much too fast considering the sopping wet roads.

“Right now I don't trust anyone.”

Possibly even Laine herself. After all, she'd withheld information about visiting that baby farm. But then Tucker'd had plenty of reasons to distrust her before that.

He took out his phone and sent off a text. Laine only got a glimpse of it, but it appeared that Tucker was asking someone to do a background check on Martin Hague. A few days before, that would have seemed like overkill.

Now, nothing seemed to fall into that category.

“Change of plans,” Tucker said. “I'll call Dr. Howland and ask him to come out and examine the babies and you. Not here, though. I'm taking the three of you to the main house where I'll have some help protecting you.”

Laine was certain that he'd lost his mind. Now here was an example of overkill, or at least of a really bad idea.

“With your family?” She shook her head, not waiting for him to answer. “Tucker, they hate me.
You
hate me.”

For some stupid reason she got a flash of the expression on his face when he'd seen her changing into the dry clothes. It was only a glimpse of this unwanted heat between them, but a glimpse had been enough to know.

“Okay, maybe you don't completely hate me,” she amended, “but you certainly don't want me there.”

No heated look this time. Just a flat one that let her know she'd stated the obvious. Before Laine could continue the argument, he took out his phone and made a call.

“Mary,” he said when someone answered. Mary Larkin had been the McKinnon housekeeper for as long as Laine could remember.

Yet another person who wouldn't want Laine there.

“I've got a situation. Send someone out to pick up bottles, formula, diapers and anything else newborns need. I'll explain when I get there. Oh, and Laine Braddock will be with me.... Yeah, I know,” he added a moment later. “Like I said, I'll explain everything.”

“Still convinced that taking me there is a good idea?” Laine challenged when he ended the call.

“The house has a security system,” he said, obviously ignoring her argument. “The ranch hands can help guard the place.”

“But your family—”

“Cooper and his wife aren't there. They're on their honeymoon, and their son, Liam, is staying with his grandmother in Austin. Jewell's in jail, as you well know, and my sister Rosalie and Jewell's stepson, Seth, are in the guesthouse.”

“That leaves your father and Rayanne,” she immediately reminded him.

“My father won't object to me keeping you safe. I hope,” he added. “And Rayanne's opinion doesn't count. She's only living in the house to irritate the rest of us and to rub it in our faces that it's her house, too.”

Laine couldn't argue with the reason Rayanne was staying at the ranch. It was pretty much what she'd heard around town, though that wouldn't help with Laine's own situation.

But what would?

She couldn't take the babies and go to her place. The missing gunman could easily find her there. She definitely didn't want to turn the babies over to Hague, either. Not until Tucker and she had figured out what was going on. Her brother was the county sheriff, but he, too, was out of town and wouldn't be back for days.

That left her hiring a bodyguard of some kind.

But that would take time, and she didn't have much of that. It wouldn't be long before the babies would need to be fed, and Tucker had already made plans for that. So for now, Tucker and his family seemed to be her best short-term option.

Heaven help her.

“How long will we have to stay there?” she asked.

“Probably a lot longer than either of us want.”

Heck, two minutes would qualify as way too long.

Tucker motioned for them to get moving, but then Laine stopped when her phone buzzed. She tried to balance the babies so she could retrieve her phone from her jeans pocket. She'd managed it earlier with one baby in her arms, but it wasn't possible with two.

Since the call could be important, she handed the infants to Tucker. He didn't scowl, but he did get the look of a man who was way out of his element. He shook his head and tried to hand them back, but Laine ignored him and checked the caller ID on the screen.

It was her mother, Carla.

It wasn't a call that Laine wanted to take. Their relationship was shaky at best, but by now news of the shooting was likely all over town, and her mom had heard about it.

“I'm all right,” Laine answered right off the bat.

“Glad to hear that, but why in the world were you out at Tucker McKinnon's place?”

“Who told you I was at Tucker's?” she asked.

“Your sister. One of her reporter friends gave her the details of what happened. She's not happy about you being there, either, so why'd you go running to the McKinnons?”

“It's a long story.” And one that she didn't want to discuss with anyone. Well, with anyone but Tucker. Strange that they were finally on the same side about something. “I'll call you later and tell you all about it—”

“A McKinnon killed your father,” Carla snapped. “Don't you forget that.”

Laine would have a harder time forgetting how to breathe. “I won't be here much longer.” And when her mother's tirade continued, Laine worked in a hasty goodbye and pressed the end call button.

She glanced up at Tucker, expecting him to be in a hurry to hand off the babies, but he was no longer looking at the babies as if they were some alien creatures. The corner of his mouth had lifted, and both babies were quietly staring at him. He'd told his sister that he wasn't the fatherly type, but those babies suddenly looked very comfortable in his arms.

“Your mother's not happy about you being here,” Tucker commented. He obviously hadn't needed to hear the conversation to know what'd taken place.

Laine made a sound of agreement. “You've no doubt heard the story of Jewell and my father from a different perspective than I have.”

“But with the same results. Whitt's dead, and everything points to my mother having killed him. If she did it, then she'll pay.”

“If?”
Laine repeated. “You're not certain she killed him? Because this is the first I'm hearing about any doubts from you.”

“Doesn't matter what I think. I just want her and the kids that she raised to be out of our lives.” No longer smiling, he handed the babies back to her. “But I'm glad Rayanne was there to help.”

Yes, without her, Tucker and she might be dead and the babies stolen.

“Let's go,” Tucker said, and he led her into the kitchen. “Move fast and stay low,” he added before he darted out into the rain to get into his truck.

He backed it up and then pulled it close until the passenger's side was almost right against the steps. He threw open the door and motioned for her to hurry.

She did.

Laine didn't want to be out in the open any longer than necessary, for fear the gunman was watching them. The moment she was inside, Tucker took off. Not speeding, as Hague had done. But driving at a slow, cautious pace, probably because they didn't have infant seats for the babies.

Tucker kept watch, his gaze firing all around, and Laine slipped low down in the seat. Despite what was waiting for her inside, she was glad when the massive white house came into view.

The place looked different. Bigger. And there were more barns and other outbuildings than she remembered. About thirty yards from the main house, another structure was going up.

“Cooper's new place,” Tucker explained, following her gaze.

It made sense that his brother would want his own house. After all, Cooper didn't just have a wife now. He was also the father of a toddler boy. Yet another McKinnon male who would no doubt grow up to hate her and her family.

Nope, she didn't feel one bit welcome.

“I'll run background checks on all the construction crew working on Cooper's house,” Tucker added.

Good. Because it seemed an easy way for whoever was after them to get onto the grounds. They already had enough security issues without adding that to the mix.

As Tucker had done at his place, he parked right next to the porch. Mary immediately threw open the door and helped them into the foyer. It'd been a while since Laine had seen the woman, but she hadn't changed much, except she now had some threads of gray in her auburn hair.

“The diapers and formula will be here soon,” Mary said. The look she gave Laine was frosty, but that frost didn't extend to the babies. Mary smiled and eased the newborn girl into her arms.

Laine hadn't realized just how much her arms were aching until Mary did that, but Laine still wanted to snatch the baby back. To protect both of them. Too bad she was shaking too much to do that. If Tucker hadn't been holding on to her arm, her legs might have buckled.

“This way.” He took her into the adjoining living room and forced her to sit on a sofa. In the same motion, he pulled out his phone. “Colt,” he said, putting the call on speaker. “Please tell me the fake cops have made a full confession so I can arrest someone.”

“No confessions. In fact, they've both lawyered up, and the one in the hospital isn't saying a word. But I did get something from the one we're holding at the jail. His name isn't Hacker. It's Gene Buford. The guy had a record, so I got a match when I fingerprinted him. Anyway, he had three photos in his pocket. One was of Laine, and it looks like it was taken with a long-range camera at some kind of ranch.”

“The baby farm,” she said. She hadn't seen anyone snap her photo, but there had no doubt been security cameras. “Is one of the other pictures of a blonde woman?”

“Yes. Thin face, short choppy hair.”

Laine pulled in her breath. “That sounds like the woman who was killed behind my office.”

“That's what I figured. It's the third one that's confusing me. It's a picture of you, Tucker.”

“Tucker?” Laine repeated.

She shook her head. Why did the men have a photo of him? There was no way they could have guessed she would have fled to his house. Heck, she hadn't even known that was where she'd been headed until she was actually on the road.

“Send me the photo of the woman,” Tucker insisted.

It took several moments for the photo to load on the screen, and Laine got up to have a better look. It was the woman, all right, and just like that, the sickening memories of the shooting returned. The sound of the shots. The blood. The sheer violence of it all.

But she wasn't the only one who had a reaction.

Tucker groaned softly.

“You know her?” Laine asked.