Home > Cut and Run(48)

Cut and Run(48)
Author: Mary Burton

The wail of police sirens echoed in the distance, and he glanced over his shoulder. For the first time, he looked worried.

“Leave the girls,” she said. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know if you leave them.”

The sirens grew louder.

“We don’t have much time,” she said.

His jaw tensed. “They can identify me.”

“Does it matter? You get the package and you’ll get paid, right? Then you can vanish.”

Hayden’s lights were flashing as he and Brogan raced to the location. He saw Faith’s car parked in the cul-de-sac and moved in behind her. “Damn it. She doesn’t wait for anyone.”

Out of his car, he drew his weapon and hurried toward Faith’s car. The front door was ajar, and her purse and keys were on the passenger seat. He’d seen so much violence working for the Rangers, but he’d never thought about it touching Faith. He couldn’t entertain the thought of losing her, or he wouldn’t be able to function.

“She’s got to be inside. Call in marked units. I want this area surrounded.”

“Consider it done,” Brogan said.

The Rangers raced to the front door and heard the distant screaming and pounding from the basement. They hurried into the kitchen, and as Brogan moved cautiously down the stairs with his weapon drawn, Hayden glanced toward the back door and saw the small droplets of blood. “I’m heading to the backyard,” he said.

“Roger that,” Brogan said.

Hayden went out the back door and saw the trail of blood running down a narrow sidewalk leading to a back exit in the tall privacy fence that banded around the yard. He heard a car door close and ran, kicking through the privacy fence door. More blood droplets led to the side street that backed up to the house. He had only a split second to assess the situation. Blue four-door. Blood, woman in the passenger seat, and a man in the driver’s seat. The car wheels started to roll.

He leveled his weapon and fired, hitting the back right tire. As the car gained speed, he trained his weapon onto the left rear tire and fired. As much as he wanted to fire at the driver, he couldn’t risk hitting Faith.

But when the man in the front seat raised a weapon toward the passenger, a clear and calculated rage overtook him. Hayden drew in a breath as he lined up the sights on his weapon with the driver’s head. Don’t move, Faith. Don’t move. The car gained more speed even with the blown-out tires deflating quickly. He squeezed the trigger. His bullet blew out the back window and slammed into the jaw of the driver. The car swerved, careening left into a tree. He didn’t allow satisfaction as he raced ahead, desperate to see Faith alive and well.

When he reached the car, he kept his weapon drawn, his finger beside the trigger, ready to shoot again. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as his focus zeroed in on his target.

When he saw the man slumped over the wheel, Hayden yanked open the door and hauled the man out of the car. He heard a baby cry, saw a flicker of movement in his side vision, but kept his focus on the man.

The events that came next felt like they happened in slow motion, each critical action and reaction weighted with life and death.

Hayden threw the man face-first onto the grass and drove a knee into the small of his back as he kept his weapon trained on him with one hand and reached for his cuffs with the other. He snapped one cuff around one wrist and then, hauling the second wrist toward the first, clamped the cuff around it.

The baby’s cry grew louder, echoing its fear and panic as Hayden rolled the man on his back and pressed his fingertips to his carotid artery. There was no pulse. He recognized the guy. He’d tried to make a play for Faith the night of the fundraiser.

He then shifted his focus to the passenger seat. Faith was slumped over in the front seat, her body folded over the baby. Holstering his weapon, he raced to the passenger side and yanked open the door.

His heart sank as he thought about Faith dead and lost to him forever. He could not bear it. He could not.

Gently, he took her by the shoulders and carefully leaned her back, freeing the baby underneath. He could see a gash across her forehead and her lip was bloodied, but there seemed to be no other injuries. The baby cried. Faith blinked and moaned. She wasn’t unconscious, but badly stunned.

“Faith!” Sirens wailed around him.

Slowly she nodded her head. “I’m here.”

Jesus. A tangle of emotions clogged his throat, and it was all he could do to keep his voice even. “Faith, I don’t want you to move. The paramedics are here.”

“Kat and Paige are in the house,” she said. “They’re alive.”

“Brogan’s inside. He’s got it under control.” Hayden tried to take the baby from her.

Her grip tightened around the small bundle. “I have her.”

“You’re unsteady. Let me have her.”

She pushed back the towel and stared at the squalling infant and then handed the little girl to him. He cradled her like a football.

She looked over at the man lying on the ground. “His name is Kevin. I’ve met him before. He didn’t want Kat, Paige, or the baby, but used them to lure me to him. He was going to use me to get to Macy and whatever he thought Jack Crow had left her.”

“What would Crow leave Macy?” Hayden asked.

“She thinks her father had evidence against Garnet and he mailed it to Macy.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s awake. She told me.” A sob caught in her throat. “Jesus, Hayden, who would hire a monster like that?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll find out.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I’m just so damn glad you’re okay. I wouldn’t have made it if I lost you.”

Instead of answering, she kissed him softly on the lips as the first of the paramedics stepped in to administer first aid.

Kathy Saunders, 1989

Josie and Olivia are dead. I know it. He says they are not. He says they’ve gone on to better lives. But he lies. He always lies. And I will be dead soon, too.

Things I like. Country music. High-waist, stonewashed jeans. My teddy bear, Boo. Starry nights.

Things I hate. This room. Not seeing my sister, Diane, again. This pen running out of ink.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Friday, June 29, 9:00 p.m.

Faith had spent several hours in the emergency room with Kat, Paige, and the baby. Doctors had also done an MRI and determined Faith did not have a concussion. The gash in her forehead hadn’t required stitches, just a couple of butterfly bandages.

Once Hayden had heard from the doctors she was going to be fine, she had insisted he return to the crime scene. It had taken her several tries to convince him to go, and finally, he had left.

She’d been able to wash the blood from her hands and face, but her blouse had been a total loss, so the staff had lent her a pair of scrubs and flip-flops.

Now as she sat in the exam cubicle, she pushed back her hair and straightened her shoulders. All she could do was mull over the unanswered questions that still lingered. Hayden had discovered that Kevin was Mark Canada and had done jail time for assault. It was assumed Canada had been hired, but the question was, By whom? What was in the package that he was so willing to torture and kill for?

“Where’s Faith McIntyre?” Kat’s loud, unsteady voice cut through the buzz of the emergency exam cubicles.

Faith pushed off the gurney and drew back the curtain. Kat was standing in the center of the room, dressed in a hospital gown, her pregnant belly protruding, and pulling her IV pole with her.

“Kat. You should be in your exam room.”

The girl’s face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she rushed toward Faith, still pulling her IV. “No one would tell me where you were.”

Faith smoothed back the girl’s hair and smiled. “I’m right here. We’re all fine.”

She sobbed. “When I got here, my head was spiraling and I couldn’t think. But when I shook off those drugs, all I could remember was that man taking you away.”

“I’m fine.” She glanced past the girl to see several nurses moving toward her. One was pushing a wheelchair.

Kat gently touched the bandages on Faith’s forehead. “You’re hurt.”

“No. I’m really no worse for the wear. But you need to get back into your room and rest. They’re going to have to take you to the maternity ward and check out you and the baby.”

“It’s kicking the crap out of me,” Kat said.

“Good.” Faith helped the girl lower into the wheelchair.

“Where is that Paige girl?” Kat asked.

“She’s in the maternity ward with her baby.”

“Can I see her?” Kat asked.

“Her parents are with her now, but I don’t see why not. If it weren’t for you, we might not have ever found her.”

Kat wiped away several tears. “He said he was going to use me as bait.”

“I know.” Faith laid her hands on Kat’s shoulders. “But it didn’t work. We’re all okay, and he’s dead.”

“The Ranger got him, didn’t he?” Kat asked.

“Yes, he did.”

Kat sniffed. “He’s pretty cool. You should keep him.”

Faith laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What are you doing? Can you come with me to maternity?”

“I’ll visit you as soon as I can. I have a few other things I have to take care of first. Don’t worry; the nurses will take good care of you.”

Kat gripped her fingers. “You promise?”

“I surely do, kid.”

Faith stood and watched as the nurses wheeled Kat away, and when she turned to figure out how the hell she was going to get out of this place, Hayden stepped into view.

He strode toward her, his hat in his hand. Without a word, he gripped her arm in a firm but gentle hold. “You’re like that kid. You don’t listen.”

His touch always made her feel alive. “I always hear you.”

   
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