Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (53 page)

“Andrews here.”

“Kent, it's Laney.”

“Laney, where are you? We expected you twenty minutes ago.”

“In the covered bridge on Race Track Road and headed for the stables. We were shot at and our car was driven off the road and into an embankment. We left the car and were followed to the racetrack. We heard sirens close by. I called 911, but I don't think they know exactly where we are.”

“Is DeMarco with you?”

“He's trying to keep the gunmen from advancing on us.” The words were rushed, frantic-sounding even to her own ears, but she wasn't certain how much time she'd have before she'd need to take off for the stables.

“How many gunmen?”

“Two.” Laney lowered her voice. Footsteps pounding on the dirt indicated someone was approaching the bridge. Fast. Was it Grayson or someone else?

“I've got to go. Someone's coming.”

She disconnected the call.

Holding her breath and pressing herself into a dark corner of the bridge, she waited, watching the entrance, praying Grayson was the one who'd appear.

Finally, a shadow appeared, tall, broad, moving with a confidence she recognized immediately.

“Thank You, God!” she whispered, rushing to Grayson, throwing herself into his arms.

She wasn't sure who was more surprised. Her or Grayson.

His hands settled on her back, his fingers sliding across her spine.

“You okay?” he asked, his breath ruffling the air near her ear.

“Yes. And I got the call out to Kent.”

“Good, but we're not out of danger. One of the guys is wounded, but he and his buddy are still on the move,” Grayson whispered, pulling her in the direction of the stables. “If the police know our location, we just have to hold the perps off until help arrives.”

Water pooled in small divots and dips in the ground as they left the bridge behind, the saturated ground sucking at Laney's soaked running shoes, leaving an easily traceable impression in the earth.

“We're leaving footprints,” she whispered, following Grayson into the first of the two stables in the far corner of the training facility. Smelling of wood and hay, the interior was mostly dry, its windows having been shuttered against the elements.

“I know. I'm hoping they'll follow our tracks into this stable and waste time searching for us in here—we're headed out the back and will hide in the next stable over.”

* * *

Huddling in one corner of the hayloft, arms wrapped around her legs, knees drawn to her chin, Laney strained to hear signs of their pursuers. Grayson's jacket, resting over her shoulders where he left it before taking his place in a stall below, offered necessary warmth, but she still shivered slightly with fear. A few minutes ago, the men had burst into the first stable. She had clearly heard doors slamming and wood banging, then nothing.

The hayloft, now mostly empty, spanned the middle of the stable, allowing hay to be thrown down from both sides into the walkway below. Grayson had placed a loose piece of plywood in front of her, leaning it against the wall, near other boards, tools and buckets. From her hiding place, she was just able to turn her head left and right, having a clear view of both rear and front of the stable. Below her, Grayson was hidden in shadows.

The front door creaked open. A man ducked in, pressing himself to the darkened corner of the wall. Remaining still, Laney controlled her breathing and waited. Grayson had explained that he wanted to catch one or both men alive. This was potentially a chance for them to get another lead in the case.

Laney trained her gaze on the man's position. Unmoving, he stood as if waiting. Hair prickled on the back of Laney's neck, and she turned just in time to see the second man drop soundlessly through an unshuttered window toward the back of the stable.

An ambush. Did Grayson know?

There was no way to warn him without giving her position away. Laney looked around for something, anything to arm herself with. Settling on a heavy rubber-ended mallet, she crept from her hiding place to the edge of the loft, Grayson's jacket sliding soundlessly from her shoulders. Peering down, she kept the second man in sight. A scuffling commotion behind her was met with a gunshot. Then another.

The second man rushed forward, gun drawn. It was probably an eight-foot drop, but Laney didn't hesitate. Pulling herself to a crouching position, hammer in hand, she leapt for him. He caught sight of her at the last minute, trying to duck while pointing his gun at her, but Laney's momentum carried her forward too fast, her knees slamming into his chest. They fell to the ground, his gun clattering against the stable wall, his body cushioning Laney's fall.

She scampered off him, trying to elude him. His calloused hand grasped her wrist, pulling her back toward him. Hammer in hand, she turned, intending to bring it down on his head. Raising his forearm, he blocked the blow, yelling in pain as the hammer smashed against bone.

Behind her, a gun exploded, its echo merging with the sound of screaming sirens. Outside the stable, car doors slammed and a dog barked.

Help had finally arrived.

Grayson rushed forward, yanked Laney back, and pointed his firearm at the attacker. “Don't move!”

In that moment, both the front and back doors of the stable burst open.

“Police. Drop your weapons!”

Laney froze, dropping her mallet.

“FBI!” Grayson shouted, throwing one hand in the air and slowly placing his gun on the ground. “Don't shoot!”

Kent Andrews and five officers converged on the scene, guns drawn.

“You two okay?” Kent asked, his gun trained on the man who lay on the floor.

“Barely,” Grayson muttered, lifting his gun from the ground.

That's when the gunman moved, his hand snaking out as he reached for his weapon.

“He's going for his gun!” Laney cried.

The guy rolled to his side, the gun clutched tightly in his hand, his eyes gleaming.

Grayson shouted Laney's name, tackling her to the ground as the first bullet flew.

A quick succession of returned fire from the officers ended before Laney and Grayson had even hit the ground.

FIFTEEN

T
he rain had subsided, leaving in its place a cold chill that permeated the thick evening air. Grayson felt it to his bones as he led Laney out of the Prince George's County Morgue.

Despite the jacket he'd thrown over her shoulders, she was shivering violently, her teeth chattering as they walked into the parking lot.

He'd managed to keep her from being shot. Barely.

Grayson was worried. With three dead suspects, a probable arsonist on the run, a stolen car and one jailbird refusing to sing, Grayson was pinning his hopes on the idea that the search of David Rallings Jr.'s residence would yield some new clue. “You doing okay?” he asked, and Laney nodded.

“Aside from being half frozen to death, I'm fine.”

“I may be able to help you with that,” he responded, and she eyed him dubiously.

“If you're talking about a repeat of that hug—”

Her comment was so surprising, he laughed. “I wasn't, but now that you mentioned it, I don't think I'd mind a repeat performance.”

“Grayson—”

“Tell you what,” he said, reaching Andrews's police cruiser and popping the trunk. “How about we just worry about getting you warm?” The chief had given him the keys and told him that he and Laney could wait in the car. It had been as obvious to him as it had been to Grayson that Laney was at the end of what she could handle. She'd identified the deceased, answered a couple of dozen questions. Now she needed to be bundled up in a blanket and left alone.

Grayson grabbed a blanket from the emergency kit in the back of Andrews's car and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She didn't speak as he opened the passenger door and eased her into the front seat.

“Laney?” He touched her hand. It was ice-cold, her complexion so pallid he was surprised she was still conscious.

“I told you, I'm fine.” But her voice broke, and she turned away, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

He closed the door, then walked around the car, slipping into the driver's seat.

Grayson started the car and got the heat going, then turned toward Laney.

“It's okay to cry after you see something like that.”

“I'm not crying.” She swiped another tear from her cheek.

“Your eyes are just leaking all over your face?”

“Something like that,” she responded with a trembling smile.

“Do you want to tell me why?” he asked.

“I like you, Grayson. You know that?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Maybe I am. I guess I didn't expect to...” She shrugged.

“What?”

“Ever meet someone who was as passionate about what he does as I am about what I do. You were great tonight. Calm and smart.”

“Not smart enough. Both our perps are dead. I wanted to bring them in alive.”

“I'd rather have you alive. And me.” She shivered and tugged the blanket closer around her shoulders.

“You didn't answer my question,” he prodded.

“About why I'm crying? I guess it's because three men are dead. They weren't good men, but they were human beings. And I guess it's also because I'm worried that their deaths mean we'll never find Olivia and the other children.”

“It's not your job to find them,” he reminded her gently, taking her hands, holding them between both of his, trying to warm them.

“Maybe it is, Grayson. If I had a location, I could take Jax and we could—”

“Laney, you don't have to be the responsible one all the time.”

“I don't know how to be any other way,” she replied softly.

“How about, just for now, you close your eyes and trust me to take care of the situation? I won't let you down.” Even as the words rolled off his tongue, he knew he shouldn't have said them. He couldn't make any promises or guarantees. Not even for a night.

But deep down, he felt the need to say them. He wanted her to feel safe. More than that, he wanted to protect her. The alternative was unthinkable.

Chief Andrews rapped on the glass near Grayson's head, and he opened the door and got out. “Everything taken care of?”

“The medical examiner is getting prints from the deceased. Neither was carrying identification.” Andrews looked tired, his eyes deeply shadowed. “I'll get you two back to Laney's place. She needs her rest. I'm afraid you'll have to ride in the back.”

“No problem.” Grayson slid into the back of the cruiser.

“You have any idea who knew you were coming out here tonight?” Andrews asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Could have been someone at your office. Could have been someone with the FBI. Which means we're right back where we started.”

“I just don't get it. The shooter is dead. The accomplice can't be identified through the facial recognition system. And even if we find a match later, the damage is done. Laney's already given us all the information she knows. Why continue to try to harm her?”

“I don't think it's just about Laney anymore. I believe we're getting close to the guy who's calling the shots. He's trying to buy time whatever way possible.”

“You could be right,” Andrews agreed. “If they can take out the lead investigator and the only material witness to the crime at the same time, the investigation could be set back a day or two.”

“Just enough time to get the required number of children needed for the next delivery and stick with the prearranged shipping plans,” Grayson said.

“It's also possible there's something significant in Rallings's place. We've got someone looking through his computer files now.”

“I'm really hoping you're right, Andrews. But either way, I have a feeling we're on the verge of breaking this case wide open.”

* * *

The ride home was short and, thankfully, uneventful. The house was dark as they pulled up to it. A patrol car guarded in the driveway. A black sedan was also in the driveway, its occupants concealed behind tinted windows. The FBI protection detail had arrived.

Laney didn't wait until Grayson and Kent got out of the car. She opened her door and hurried up the front steps. The door opened before she reached it. Arden stood silhouetted in the opening.

“Looks like you lived,” she said without preamble.

“Yes. I guess we did.” Laney sidled past her, the dogs wagging their tails happily as she entered the house.

“I heard all about it on the news. Crazy stuff. Bullets flying and two people dead. Called the chief to see if you and Grayson were involved. Glad it wasn't you or my brother in those body bags.” She retreated to the couch and the laptop, shoving earbuds back in her ears.

Laney left her there. She wasn't in the mood for conversation. She was tired and cold. Thankfully, Rose was in bed, her door closed. Laney crept past the guest room and walked into her own.

Jax followed her, dropping down on the floor near the foot of her bed. She knelt down, putting her arms around his furry neck. He whined softly, and she knew he sensed her mood, felt the same need for action that she did.

“For someone who's nearly frozen, you move fast,” Grayson said from the doorway.

“The car ride warmed me up.”

“And what didn't get warm from the ride, Jax is taking care of?” He sat down next to her on the floor, his body close enough that she could share his warmth too. “He's a good-looking dog.”

“I think so. The pick of the litter, and a gift from a team member.” Remembering eight-week-old Jax brought a smile to her face. “Jeremy's mom bred Aussies. Jax's play drive was so good, even at eight weeks old, that Jeremy convinced his mom to let me have him.”

“That was a generous thing to do.”

“Yes. It was. She still sends me Christmas cards every year, and I send her pictures of Jax on his birthday.”

“No pictures for Jeremy?”

“Jeremy died two years ago.” She was quiet for a minute after that, thankful that Grayson didn't interrupt the silence, that he let her have the time to pull her thoughts together. It gave her the strength to continue. “We were best friends all through college, and he joined me in search-and-rescue training because he was jealous of the time I spent there. He was the flanker on my team. One of the best I ever had. Later he qualified with his own dog.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“He was.”

“And after he died, you didn't want to work search and rescue anymore.”

“I didn't, but not just because of him.” She hesitated. This wasn't something she spoke about. Ever. But Jax's warm weight rested against her left side and Grayson's warm presence was to her right, and the words just spilled out. “I lost two other team members that day. It shouldn't have happened. We were on a routine search—three hikers had been reported lost on the peak. The conditions were good for a find that day. The temperatures were relatively mild.”

It had started like any other search. Working with local law enforcement, she'd mapped the search sectors based on the victims' supposed area of travel. “Tanya and Lee were Jeremy's flankers that day. Ironically, when I mapped the sectors, I took the steeper, more treacherous sector because Tanya was three months pregnant and tired a little more easily. I was working the east perimeter of my sector, which bordered Jeremy's sector, when I heard the first rumbling echoes of the avalanche. I called a warning to the team and base,” Laney's voice broke. “But it happened so fast, not everyone was able to clear the area.”

His arm slid around her shoulders, and he pulled her closer to his side. “You can't blame yourself for that.”

“I try not to, but there's no one else to blame,” she responded, her hand lying on Jax's soft head, her head resting against Grayson's shoulder.

“There is no one to blame. Nature is a hard taskmaster. There isn't a search-and-rescue professional alive who doesn't know it.”

He was right. Her head knew it, but her heart was a different story.

Taking a breath, she fought to control her emotions, still raw after all this time. “It's easy to say when it isn't your team. I've heard it from everyone, and I still can't forget that I was the one who put them in that position and that I lived while they died.”

“I don't think they would want things to be different,” Grayson said, smoothing hair from her cheek, his fingers warm against her skin. “As a matter of fact, if they were standing in your shoes, if they were the ones who'd lived and you'd died, they'd be mourning your loss, wishing they could have taken your place.”

“But they aren't here, Grayson,” she said, and the tears she'd been holding back spilled out. “I am, and I can still remember every minute of the search, every second that ticked by in my head. I can remember digging them out and trying so desperately to breathe life back into them.” Laney wiped the tears from her eyes, but the vivid memory of that day stayed with her, a picture in her mind, unblurred by her tears and not lessened by time.

Grabbing Laney's shoulders, Grayson turned her to face him, pulling her into a silent embrace. The soft scent of rain and pine trees mingled with a hint of aftershave. Relaxing into him, her tears fell freely. Tears for Jeremy, Tanya and Lee. Tears for herself. For the first time, she let someone else share the enormous weight of their deaths. Not just anyone, but Grayson. A stranger to her a mere day ago, yet her life was now inexplicably tied to his.

“Do you think I don't understand?” he asked gently. “After Andrea died, everyone told me it wasn't my fault. That everything would be okay. But the truth is, I knew it wasn't my fault. And yet I couldn't help feeling her safety and well-being were my responsibility. I had promised her forever when I gave her that ring, and we never got a chance to start our lives together—to raise the children she always wanted. It wasn't okay. Her death will never be okay. There will always be a place in my heart for her, and I'll always carry regrets. But I've learned to give them to God. Not to dwell on them. Not to lie in bed at night, reliving that day, playing the ‘what if?' game. I've grown stronger through her life and death—Andrea wouldn't have wanted it any other way.”

He pulled back and looked into her eyes, gently brushing tears from her cheeks.

“You honor your friends every day by your strength, your kindness and your life. Let God bear the burden of their deaths while you rejoice in what you shared together. The good times. Not the bad ones.”

Looking into his ocean-blue eyes, Laney could almost believe that was possible.