WANTED (16 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“Get out of there now!” Wyatt ordered Busby.

Lyla’s throat snapped shut.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

The killer was supposed to go after the fake evidence in the CSI van. He wasn’t supposed to send his henchmen here to the ranch. But Lyla couldn’t think of who else would be out skulking around on a bitter winter night. And there was no doubt about it—those men
were
skulking.

Wyatt had no sooner hung up with Busby when his phone buzzed again, and it was Dallas’s name on the screen.

“I see them,” Dallas said the moment Wyatt answered and put the call on speaker.

Busby and the two ranch hands pushed their horses in a gallop, racing back. The two men behind them, however, didn’t run. They just continued to move through the pasture, using whatever they could for cover.

Making their way toward the house where Wyatt, Kirby, Stella and she were.

“I’ll make sure Kirby and Stella stay down and take cover on the side of the fireplace in his room,” Dallas offered. “And that all the ranch hands are inside. I can be there in five minutes.”

“No,” Wyatt said, surprising Lyla that he’d turn down backup. “This could be some kind of trap. They aren’t shooting at anyone, so it could be a ploy to lure you away from the others.”

“But Lyla and you seem to be the target,” Dallas argued.

“And they could use any one of you to draw us out.”

Mercy, she hadn’t thought of that. There was no way Wyatt would sit still if his family came under attack.

“Besides, I don’t want anyone out in the open right now,” Wyatt added. “Just stay where you are and keep watch.”

Wyatt was right. Dallas could be shot if he tried to get to them, and it would leave his own family more vulnerable. Heaven knew what they were all going through right now, because they had to be watching this possible threat unfold on the security screen.

“What do we do?” she asked Wyatt, and cursed the fear crawling through her.

He opened the desk drawer, took out a gun and handed it to her. “If they come closer to the house, you’ll need to go in the bathroom and get in the shower.”

It was lined with river rock similar to the fireplace that Stella and Kirby could use for cover. An attractive feature, but in this case, both could be good shields against bullets.

“You’ll go in the shower with me,” she said, and she tried not to make it sound like a question.

“I’ll stay safe,” he promised her, but there was no way he could guarantee he’d keep that promise.

Wyatt pulled her down for a kiss. Much too quick. But he had to keep his mind on the screen. Kisses, even those just to help keep her calm, were a big distraction.

Lyla said a prayer of thanks when Busby and the ranch hands made it back to the house. Busby unlocked the front door, disarming the security system just long enough so they could get inside the foyer. The other hand went to the back and inside an enclosed porch.

So, everyone was safe and inside.

Well, inside anyway.

“There are three of them,” Wyatt said.

It took her a moment to understand, and see, what he meant. The third man came into view of the camera. He was also dressed in black, his face was covered with something and he was armed.

Was this the killer? And had he sent his henchmen on ahead of him? If so, why?

The approaching gunmen were clearly outnumbered. Stella and Kirby were no doubt armed. Wyatt and she were. Ditto for the ranch hands. That meant it was seven-to-three odds. Knowing that should have eased some of the tension that was rifling through her body.

But it didn’t.

Wyatt and she exchanged a glance, and she saw on his face the same concern she felt. Maybe there were more than three possible attackers, but there was no one else they could call for backup. At least no one that could make a fast response. The sheriff and one of his deputies were with Declan and Slade, and that probably left only one other deputy to protect the town. And he was with Billy.

The phone buzzed again, and even though Lyla had been expecting a call from one of his brothers, the sound still caused her to gasp. However, when she looked at the screen, her stomach dropped.

Unknown caller.

Someone had blocked the number and name, and she doubted they’d done that for any good reason. It wasn’t one of the three men in the pasture, either, because Lyla could see them on the security camera, and none was on the phone.

“Marshal McCabe,” Wyatt answered.

It seemed to take an eternity for someone to speak on the other end of the line, but finally she heard the voice. “It’s me,” the man said.

Lyla shook her head and looked at Wyatt to see if it was someone he recognized. It wasn’t.

“Who the hell is this?” Wyatt demanded.

“Nicky Garnett.”

The gunman who’d shot at them at her house. A very dangerous man and someone almost certainly connected to the men in the pasture.

Men who were now running.

What was happening? Was this the start of the attack that they’d been dreading?

“What do you want?” Wyatt asked Nicky.

“To give you a little warning.” There was no urgency in the man’s voice. In fact, he seemed pleased about the threat Lyla was sure was coming. “If I were you, I’d get my bride and anyone else out of the house.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Remember that maid you put on paid leave?” Nicky didn’t wait for Wyatt to respond. “Well, she had some family problems that required her to come up with a big chunk of cash. Cash that my boss gladly provided her for services rendered.”

Lyla pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop the gasp, and everything inside her went completely still.

Wyatt’s grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles were white. “What the hell did she do?”

“For one thing, she put a tiny camera with infrared technology on one of the outside windowsills. It made it pretty easy for us to know that you and Lyla aren’t in that heavily guarded van heading to San Antonio.”

Sweet heaven. That meant Nicky and his boss would know exactly who was in the house. And the infrared would pick up on their specific location. It would make it easier for them to target them with long-range rifles.

Like the ones the men who were nearing the house had.

Wyatt and his family had been so careful making sure the place was secure, but it would have been easy to miss a small camera. Now they might pay a high price for that.

“One more thing,” Nicky said, his voice still calm but yet cold as ice. “We had the maid set a bomb, too. A bomb with a timer like the one we used at Rocky Creek.”

Lyla could have sworn her heart stopped for several seconds, and then it slammed against her ribs.

“Where is it?” Wyatt demanded through clenched teeth. “Where’s the bomb?”

“Very near to you. And if my calculations are right, you’ve got less than five minutes before you’re all blown to smithereens.”

* * *

“W
HERE
IS
IT
? Where’d she put the bomb?” Wyatt shouted into the phone. But he was talking to himself because Nicky Garnett had already hung up.

Hell, no. This couldn’t be happening.

“What do we do?” Lyla asked, the terror spiking her voice.

Wyatt tried not to panic. Tried to think. This could all be a trap to get them out of the house, but he’d seen the destruction the bomb had done at Rocky Creek. If one that size detonated here, the house could be destroyed and everyone inside killed.

“Come on.” Wyatt drew his gun and got them running out of the room and down the stairs. He slapped off lights along the way so they couldn’t be pinpointed by a shooter using a long-range rifle. Of course, if Nicky had told the truth, they were being tracked with infrared, which allowed them to be tracked no matter where they went.

“We have to get out,” Wyatt told Busby and the other ranch hand in the foyer. “The place might blow up.”

Wyatt had a split-second debate with himself about having them come with Lyla and him, but the nearest vehicle was his truck, and there wouldn’t be room in the cab.

“Go to the mare’s barn,” Wyatt told the men. That was at the front of the property by the road, and they’d be able to see if anyone drove up. “But watch out for those guys moving in the pasture. They’re armed.”

That was the only warning he had time to issue. While they hurried to Kirby’s room, he phoned Dallas to fill him in. “Nicky Garnett just called. There could be a bomb.”

Dallas cursed. “He’s probably lying through his teeth.”

“Yeah, but I can’t take that chance. It’s me, don’t shoot!” Wyatt called out. He threw open the door to Kirby’s room and spotted Stella and him, both armed, huddled by the fireplace. He motioned for them to get to their feet. “Nicky said they have infrared, and if they do, they know exactly what we’re doing now. But I can’t see them. The laptop will lose the internet connection once I’m out of the house.”

“I’m on my way,” Dallas said, repeating his earlier offer.

Like before, though, Wyatt had to turn him down. “Too risky. If they’d wanted us dead, they would have just blown us up. They wouldn’t have given us a warning or time to get out.”

So, what did they want?

Wyatt figured it had something to do with that fake tape. He’d been so sure the killer would follow that trail.

But he’d been dead wrong.

And in doing so, he’d put Lyla and the baby in grave danger again.

“Stay where you are and keep monitoring the security systems,” Wyatt told Dallas. They hurried through the house and toward the back. “I’m taking Stella, Kirby and Lyla to the truck. I left it parked right out by the back steps. And we’ll come to you. That way, I can drop them off and face down whoever’s out there.”

“No!” Lyla insisted. “You can’t sacrifice yourself for us.”

Yes, he could. For them and the baby, he would do whatever it took. But it wasn’t a sacrifice he had in mind. “I’m a good shot,” he reminded her. “And unlike those men, I know every inch of this ranch. I can stop this.”

“And you could be taking the danger to Dallas and the others. I’m the one who’s drawing the trouble here. I’m the one they want.”

Probably. But Wyatt didn’t have time to argue with her. “The bomb could hurt the baby,” he said. “Or worse.”

Yeah, it was brutal, and even in the darkness he could see the color drain from her face. But it worked. It got her moving, which in turn got Stella and Kirby moving. Kirby was still a little shaky on his feet, but Stella looped her arm around his waist and helped him walk. Wyatt grabbed the keys from the peg near the door and hurried with them onto the back porch.

“Run,” Wyatt told the ranch hand. “Go to the hay barn and keep watch from there.”

The guy frantically bobbed his head and practically sprinted away.

Wyatt moved fast, too, and crammed the others into the truck. They were nearly on top of each other, but it wouldn’t be a long drive to Dallas’s place.

“Maybe they set more than one bomb,” Stella said, looking up at the house and then the grounds.

“They don’t want us dead,” Wyatt repeated, and he prayed that was true.

He threw the truck into gear and gunned the engine. Just as his phone buzzed.

“Answer it,” he told Lyla. And she somehow managed to get it from his pocket.

“It’s me, Busby,” Wyatt heard him say the moment Lyla put the call on speaker. “We got a problem, boss. I just had a look through the binoculars. The ones with night vision. And I can see at least three men on the road that leads to Dallas’s house.”

Wyatt’s heart went to his knees. “Where exactly?”

“They’re not on the ranch grounds, which explains why they didn’t trip the sensors. They’re just on the other side of the fence. And they appear to be carrying long-range rifles.”

That was not what Wyatt wanted to hear. Especially since that was the direction they were headed. Wyatt slammed on the brakes.

“Change of plans,” Wyatt said to Busby. He was aware that Stella and Lyla were terrified, but he couldn’t take the time to assure them now. “I’m heading to the barn behind the house. Call Dallas and tell him what’s going on.”

Wyatt didn’t wait for Busby to agree. Without pushing the end-call button on the phone, he hit the accelerator and got them heading toward the barn. He had to put some distance between the house and them in case of an explosion. They were still close enough to be hurt.

“Hold on,” Wyatt told them. “And get as far down on the seat as you can.”

The barn doors were closed. There were no animals inside because it was used for storage during winter months. And so that he wouldn’t have to get out, Wyatt planned to drive through the wooden doors.

Lyla, Stella and Kirby were still scrambling to get down when the truck slammed into the doors and sent them flying off their hinges. The air bags deployed, slapping into them. But even over that noise and the roar of the engine, Wyatt heard something he damn sure didn’t want to hear.

Someone fired a shot.

Chapter Seventeen

The fear jolted through Lyla.

Because she knew what that sound meant.

They were under fire again.

She looked up just as a bullet came through the back window of the truck. It went straight through, shattering the windshield. The glass cracked and webbed and made it impossible to see.

However, she had no trouble hearing.

Not just the second shot, either, but also Wyatt’s profanity when he shoved her back lower onto the seat. There wasn’t much room, with the four of them and the air bags, but he squeezed them as low as he could manage.

What she didn’t hear was an explosion, and they were still plenty close enough to the house that if there’d been one, she would have known about it. Of course, they didn’t know yet if Nicky had lied to them, to get them out of the house. But it could have just as easily been a real bomb, so Lyla didn’t regret their decision to leave.

Well, not yet anyway.

They had to make it out of this alive first.

“Find out where the shooters are!” Wyatt shouted, and it took her a moment to realize he was talking to Busby and not one of them.

She couldn’t hear what the ranch hand said, but Lyla figured the shooters weren’t the ones Busby had spotted near the road leading to Dallas’s house. No. These shots had almost certainly come from the trio they’d seen earlier on the security cameras. They could have easily made it to the area by the barn by now.

The shots kept coming, and Wyatt crawled over her to shield her with his body. She hated that he was taking the risks. Hated even more that there was nothing she could do about it. They had to protect the baby and that meant protecting her.

One of the bullets slammed through the back of the truck and into the dashboard. The air bags stopped any debris from flying at them, but whoever was shooting was literally tearing the truck apart.

“We have to move,” Wyatt said, taking the words right out of her mouth. They’d die if they stayed put.

The truck was in the open doorway, and they needed to get to the side of the barn. Unfortunately, if the shooters were using infrared, they would still be able to target them, but maybe they could use something as a shield until someone could stop the gunmen.

With the engine still running, Wyatt turned the steering wheel to the left, maneuvering them out of the doorway. It took some effort, and it didn’t help when the bullets continued to come at them nonstop. Clearly, these men had come prepared to kill them.

Maybe.

Like the other attack, most of the shots were going into the top and sides of the vehicle. Only the one to the dash had come close, and it was possible that it’d been misfired.

Did that mean this was another kidnapping attempt?

If so, then she was no doubt the target.

Not exactly a comforting thought, especially since these goons were likely prepared to kill everyone else to get to her. And why? At this point if she got anywhere near the real evidence, it could be discredited.

Maybe that was the point.

She could taint it by association.

The second that Wyatt had the truck maneuvered out of the entrance, he threw open his door. “Come on.”

And that was the only warning Lyla got before he took hold of her arm and pulled her from the truck. They landed in an open stall that was strewed with hay. Kirby and Stella piled in right behind them.

The cold was instant and sent her teeth chattering, a reminder that she hadn’t grabbed her coat when they’d run. Of course, staying warm hadn’t exactly been a high priority with the bomb threat.

“We should get into the tack room,” Kirby insisted. Like her, he was shivering. Stella, too. And with everything Kirby had been through recently, that couldn’t be good. This might cause him to have some kind of relapse in his recovery.

The shots didn’t stop. They continued to pelt the truck, but thankfully none of them were coming in their direction. Not yet anyway. But it seemed to her that the shooters were moving, probably coming closer to them.

Wyatt tipped his head to a walled over area in the center of the barn. “The tack room,” he told her.

Not the standard place to keep tack, but the barn was far bigger than most and clearly used for storage now since inside there were some all-terrain vehicles, a boat and even a travel trailer. None of it would give them much protection, but what it did do was give them plenty of places to hide. And with only one way in, that meant the shooters would have to come to them.

“Let’s go,” Wyatt ordered.

They stayed close to the side of the barn, out of the path of the gaping hole in the door, and once they made it to the room filled with saddles and other riding gear, Wyatt got them inside.

Not himself, though.

He leaned out, looking for those shooters.

“I still don’t see them,” he said to Busby, and waited while the man spoke. “Well, find them.”

Wyatt hit the end-call button and rammed his phone back in his pocket. “The gunmen took out the security cameras. We have no way to monitor them.”

Sweet heaven. That meant they could be anywhere, but she was betting they were sneaking up on the barn. Those shots were definitely getting closer.

“Stay back,” Wyatt warned her when she tried to pull him deeper inside with the rest of them.

And without warning, the shots stopped.

Because she had her hand on Wyatt’s left arm, she felt his muscles freeze, and his breath seemed to stop for a second. Only then did he ease back, and he put his finger to his mouth in a
stay quiet
gesture.

Lyla heard another sound.

Footsteps.

The gunmen had arrived.

She tried to level her breathing. Tried not to move. So she wouldn’t do anything to give away their position. Beside her, Stella and Kirby did the same, but if any of them made a sound, the gunmen would hear them.

The room was much larger than the truck, but Wyatt was blocking the doorway. Again, protecting them. However, it prevented any of them from moving beside him and taking aim. Something he almost certainly didn’t want them to do anyway, but Lyla hated that all she could do was sit there and wait for this nightmare to play out.

Judging from the sound of the footsteps, the men kept coming closer. Wyatt held steady. Definitely not shaking like she was, and he leaned out just a fraction.

And fired.

The sound blasted through the barn. Through her, too. There was a groan of pain followed by the sound of someone thudding to the ground.

Wyatt had obviously managed to take out one of the men. Lyla was both relieved and thankful.

But not for long.

“Marshal?” someone shouted. And this time she recognized the voice. It was Nicky again. “I think it’s time we had a little talk.”

Wyatt didn’t answer, but the smugness in Nicky’s voice had her heart racing. He didn’t seem like a man who had any doubts about this plan he’d just put into place.

“Who hired you to come here?” Kirby shouted. “Was it Travis Weston?”

“No. I don’t work for him. Got me a new boss now, who pays a lot better.”

Maybe a lie, but it could be the truth. From everything she’d heard Wyatt say about him, Nicky wasn’t the sort to stay loyal. He was a follow-the-money kind of hired killer.

“Why don’t you tell them you’re here?” Nicky said.

Wyatt glanced at her to see if she knew what he meant, but Lyla had to shake her head.

“Go ahead,” Nicky said. “Why don’t you show the marshal what you got there?”

“I’m sorry, Wyatt,” she heard another man say.

Billy.

Good grief, what was he doing here?

Like her, he sounded terrified. Of course, he could be faking it if he was the mastermind behind this plan.

“I’m sorry,” Billy repeated. “But this is something you have to see.”

Despite the hold she had on his arm, Wyatt leaned out just slightly.

And he cursed.

Lyla desperately wanted to see what had caused Wyatt to react that way, but she stayed put. And quiet.

“It’s a detonator,” Billy said, his voice barely audible over the sudden howling of the wind.

Oh, God. A timer for what? Was there actually a bomb after all?

“I got it mixed up a little when I told you the maid had set a bomb,” Nicky mocked. “She did. But not at the ranch. It’s beneath Dallas’s house, where most of your family is holed up. Get out here now, or the bomb goes off, and everyone inside that house dies.”

* * *

W
YATT
HAD
FELT
FEAR
before, but this was a whole new level. He thought of his brothers Dallas, Clayton and Harlan. All in the house. Their wives, too, along with Slade’s wife and Declan’s fiancée. And the children.

All babies.

And now they were in danger.

Well, they were if Nicky was telling the truth.

“Billy?” Wyatt called out. “Is there really a detonator?”

“Afraid so. I didn’t mean for this to happen. They grabbed me when I got to the sheriff’s office and then forced me to call the deputy to tell him that I’d changed my mind about staying there.”

So, this plan had been in motion for several hours. Before the CSI van had even arrived.

“Step out!” Nicky insisted. “Or I push this little button and a whole lot of marshals die tonight.”

It was a huge risk, but Wyatt had no choice. “Stay put,” he warned Lyla and the others.

“No!” she practically shouted. She tried to stop him, but Wyatt stepped out anyway.

Yeah, it was a detonator, all right.

And it was clipped to Nicky’s belt like a badge.

If Billy was in on this little plan, then he was giving a fine acting job, because thanks to the headlights on the truck, Wyatt could see that the man was pale and shaking. He was also cuffed, with his hands in front of his body.

Nicky looked as calm and cocky as he’d sounded on the phone. He was also armed and had his gun pointed at Wyatt. He had his other hand on the detonator. In fact, his index finger was poised right over the button.

Wyatt glanced at the hole where the door had once been, and he spotted one of the gunmen. His rifle was pointed right at Billy. The other gunman was dead on the ground.

“Don’t give me a reason to press this button,” Nicky warned.

“Who’s behind this?” Wyatt asked before Nicky could say anything else.

“Maybe I am.”

“Not enough brains. And no motive. The person behind this wants to hide their involvement in Webb’s murder.”

A flash of anger went through Nicky’s eyes. That
not enough brains
insult had pushed his buttons, and even though Wyatt didn’t personally know the man, he appeared to have a short fuse. Not good, since he controlled the detonator.

“Well, I hope you’re getting paid enough,” Wyatt added, “because attempted murder is going to send you away for a long, long time.”

“Only if I’m caught, which I don’t intend to happen. Now shut up and listen to how this is going to work. You and Lyla will come with me, and Kirby will get the detonator. Your brothers and their families will be safe.”

“But not my wife,” Wyatt argued.

“She’ll be safe as long as she cooperates. And all she has to do is alter the voice on the tape that’s being delivered to the lab as we speak.”

Wyatt didn’t believe Nicky for a minute about Lyla being safe after she cooperated. She would be a loose end, and while they might not kill her instantly, eventually the killer would want her eliminated.

“Why didn’t you just go after the CSI van?” Wyatt asked.

“Too risky. Lyla’s a better bet, and she’ll probably be happy to cooperate rather than risk endangering that baby’s she’s carrying.”

Wyatt didn’t have to see Lyla’s face to know that it sent a shock of fear through her. It went through him, too. And not just fear. Pure, raw anger. How dare this SOB threaten his unborn child?

“How’d you know about the baby?” Wyatt snapped. “Are you the one who stole the embryo?”

Nicky chuckled. “Wish I could take credit for that, but, no, my boss hired someone else to do it.”

Another lackey. What Wyatt needed was the identity of the person responsible for all this chaos.

“Let’s get in your truck,” Nicky instructed. “Me, you and Lyla. And one of my helpers, who’s waiting outside, will climb in the back with Billy. The other helper will stay here with Kirby, Stella and the detonator.”

“Why take Billy?” Wyatt asked.

“Because I know too much,” Billy answered. “Or so he thinks. He believes that I listened to the tape recording of the murder. I didn’t.”

“Yeah. Because he says it’s fake,” Nicky grumbled. “Like we’re gonna believe that.”

Well, he should. It was the truth, but Wyatt seriously doubted he could convince Nicky or his boss of that now. And it meant Billy was soon to be a dead man, too—unless he was the person behind this. But that didn’t make sense, because Billy knew the tape wasn’t real.

Wyatt had to figure a way out of this. But how? If he dove at Nicky, the guy with the rifle would just shoot him, and that would leave Lyla and the others without anyone to protect them. It was entirely possible that Dallas and Slade were on their way to help him, but Wyatt prayed they’d somehow gotten news of the possible bomb and were evacuating.

“Get moving now!” Nicky ordered.

Billy’s gaze met Wyatt’s, and even though he wasn’t sure what Billy intended to do, the one thing that couldn’t happen was for the killer to get his hands on Lyla.

Wyatt gave Billy a slight nod, and he braced himself for whatever was about to happen.

And it happened fast.

Despite the cuffs, Billy grabbed on to Nicky’s hand, snapping it away from the detonator. Wyatt didn’t waste a second. He pivoted and aimed at the man with the rifle and fired before he could.

The man went down.

Wyatt hoped he was dead or at least incapable of firing that rifle, because he didn’t have time to disarm him. He launched himself into the fray with Billy and Nicky, but he had to drop his own gun to use both hands to try to restrain Nicky and to keep his finger off the detonator.

He sensed the movement behind him and cursed. Lyla was out of the tack room, trying to take aim at Nicky. But Wyatt didn’t want her out in the open.