Cowboy Behind the Badge (3 page)

It was clear with his
possible
comments that Tucker was withholding judgment about the veracity of her story. But every word of it was true.

Colt didn't respond to that right away, but she heard some movement on the other end of the line. “Yeah, it's a burner all right, and it's no longer in service.”

Laine tried not to groan because it might disturb the baby, but it was hard to hold back her disappointment. That phone number could have given them clues about the men's identities.

The dead woman's, too.

“Call me if Reed finds anything in the parking lot,” Tucker added. He ended the call and turned to her. “I can't sit on this any longer. If that woman was murdered, then every minute we delay could increase the odds of her killers getting away.”

It was the voice of experience. Maybe not just as a Texas Ranger, either. After all, it'd taken twenty-three years for his mother to be brought to justice.

Still...

“Those fake cops were just at the sheriff's office,” she reminded him. “What if they come back?”

“Then Colt and I will deal with it.” He looked out the window at the sky again just as some lightning zipped across the sky. “We should get the babies in my truck before the rain starts.”

Laine glanced out at the clouds, too, trying to gauge how much time they had, but Tucker cursed again and took hold of her arm to push her behind him. The movement was so sudden that she couldn't figure out why he'd done it.

Then Laine looked over his shoulder and out the window.

Her heart dropped to her knees.

There were two men, dressed in blue cop uniforms, walking across the pasture directly toward the house.

 

Chapter Three

Tucker didn't consider that he might be going out on a limb by assuming the two men stalking toward his house were also the men who'd killed a woman in cold blood.

Well, if she had indeed been murdered.

But believing that wasn't much of a stretch, either. Laine had arrived at his place, scared out of her mind. She must have thought a murder had taken place and that the danger still existed.

These men could be proof of it.

They were both wearing sidearms, both shifting their gazes from one side of the pasture to the other. Keeping watch. Something lawmen would do.

Criminals, too.

The one on the right pointed toward the ground. Probably because he'd spotted Laine's footprints. Too bad the rain hadn't hit to wash them away, because her tracks led right to his back door.

“Oh, God,” Laine mumbled, and she just kept repeating it until he was certain she was losing it.

“Get back in the pantry,” Tucker ordered her.

He took out his phone to call Colt, but it would take his brother at least twenty-five minutes to get from town to this part of the ranch.

Hell.

That was too long, so he tried to figure out a faster solution.

His other brother, Cooper, wasn't at the main house because he was away on his honeymoon. That would have been his best bet, since Cooper could have gotten to Tucker's house in just a couple of minutes. Without that option, he had to call someone he didn't want to see.

His sister Rayanne.

She was a deputy sheriff on a leave of absence, and by all accounts, she was solid at her job. But since his twin sisters, Rayanne and Rosalie, had been raised by his mother, the girls were on their mom's side when it came to this trial.

Tucker wasn't anywhere near that side.

And that had made for plenty of tense moments in the past couple of weeks since Jewell, his sisters and his stepbrother, Seth, had arrived at the ranch. Because Jewell owned Sweetwater Ranch, he and his brothers hadn't been able to turn them away, but there hadn't been any warm welcomes, either.

However, for now Tucker had to put that bad blood and ill will aside and find a backup. Even if it meant turning to a sibling or a stepsibling who disliked him as much as he disliked them.

Tucker quickly scrolled through the numbers. He tried Rayanne first. He didn't have her cell number, but unlike Rosalie and Seth, she was staying in the main house.

His home.

Because Rayanne had reminded everyone that it was her home, too.

Yeah, calling her wouldn't be much fun.

Mary, the housekeeper, answered, and Tucker asked her to buzz Rayanne's room. He said a quick prayer that she'd be there and not out visiting Jewell all the way over at the county jail.

“What?” Rayanne answered, sounding about as friendly as Tucker felt.

“I have a situation. Two armed men posing as cops are approaching my house. They're possibly killers....” And here was the hard part. He glanced back at Laine's bleached complexion and the baby she was holding.

No, not that hard. Two babies' lives could be at stake.

“I need your help,” he told Rayanne.

Tucker expected her to ask him for more details, tell him a flat-out no, or at least hesitate.

She didn't.

“I'll be right there. Don't shoot me by mistake,” Rayanne snarled.

He figured that last part was an insult to his skills as a Texas Ranger, but he didn't care how many barbs Rayanne slung at him. He only needed a warm body who knew how to shoot just in case this came down to a gunfight.

“If you have another gun, I can help,” Laine offered.

“No.” He didn't want the babies left alone, and he didn't think it was a good idea to give an already shaky woman a gun that she might not even know how to use. “Stay where you are, and if I tell you to get down, do it.”

That didn't put any color back in her face, but she nodded and stayed put.

“Where are the men now?” Laine asked. “What are they doing?”

“They're still following your tracks.” They were taking slow, easy steps, and only one of them had his attention on the house.

The other was doing the tracking.

Tucker mumbled some profanity when the men drew their guns, and he debated what he could do to try and diffuse the situation. He should probably identify himself as a lawman, but if they were indeed killers, they'd just try to eliminate him so they could get to Laine and the babies.

Then they'd eliminate her.

After all, they'd followed her here, which meant they knew she'd either witnessed the murder or had some knowledge about it or the dead woman.

And that made Laine a loose end.

The seconds ticked with each step the men took, and every inch of him became alert. Tucker had been in situations like this. Facing down suspected killers and waiting for an attack that might or might not happen. But the stakes had never been this high. He had two newborns to protect.

One of the men suddenly stopped, his gaze zooming to the back part of the property. No doubt the route that Rayanne would be taking.

Had they seen her?

If so, he hoped his sister had taken some basic precautions so she wouldn't get herself shot. He suspected she hadn't when the other man pivoted in that direction. Tucker knew he couldn't wait. He had to do something to make sure they didn't gun Rayanne down.

He reached over and opened the door just a fraction so he could see out. “I'm Tucker McKinnon, Texas Ranger,” he shouted to them.

Like his earlier call to Rayanne, Tucker wasn't sure what response he'd get from them. But the men stopped and lowered their guns.

That was a good start.

“I'm Sergeant Floyd Hines,” the one on the left answered. In his late twenties or early thirties, he was heavily muscled and had nondescript brown hair. “And this is my partner, Detective Norman Hacker.” He was on the lean side, with a mean-looking scar running down his cheek.

“We traced a fugitive here,” Hines added.

Tucker had to hand it to them—they sure sounded like cops. And maybe they were. Dirty ones. Because he already knew they weren't SAPD.

The rain started. Tucker stayed to the side of the door so they could still hear him, without him needing to put himself in the direct line of fire.

“What fugitive?” he asked the men.

“Laine Braddock. She assisted in helping a federal prisoner escape.”

Laine made a sound of outrage, but Tucker motioned for her to stay quiet. Maybe the babies would do the same.

“She's not here,” Tucker lied. “You need to be on your way.”

The men exchanged glances, obviously not pleased with his lack of cooperation.

“Where is she?” Hines asked, in the way a cop would ask. A demand rather than a question.

“Wouldn't know. I'm not exactly on friendly terms with her.”

Hines mumbled something to his partner that Tucker couldn't hear. “We have reason to believe she's inside your house,” Hines continued. “We're coming in to check.”

Well, they weren't short of gall. But then neither was Tucker. “You got a search warrant?”

That earned him scowls from both of them. “We figured you'd cooperate with your brothers in blue.”

“Not this time. Come back when you've got that warrant.” Tucker shut the door and kept watch out the window.

The pair definitely didn't turn and leave. They stood there mumbling and looking around for what seemed an eternity. That eternity screeched to a halt when one of the babies started crying.

Not a whimper, either.

A full-fledged cry. Worse, the other one started to cry, too. No way could those men miss that.

Hines raised his gun again and started toward the house. He was no longer moving at a cautious pace. He began to run as if he planned to ram right through the back door.

“Wouldn't do that if I were you,” someone shouted.

Rayanne.

Hacker pivoted in her direction. Fired. The shot blasted through the air, and he dropped to the ground behind a tree. Hopefully Rayanne had gotten down, as well.

“Stay on the floor, as low as you can get,” Tucker warned Laine again, and he threw open the door so he could return fire.

Hines bolted behind Tucker's truck. That didn't stop the man from shooting, though. This time, the bullet smacked into the door less than an inch from where Tucker was standing.

Hell's bells.

So, he had his confirmation.

These guys were killers, and they were firing shots into a house where they knew Laine and the babies were hiding.

“Don't go out there,” Laine whispered as Tucker stooped down and opened the door a little farther.

“I can't let them keep shooting into the house.” And anyway, Rayanne was out there. Responding to his call for backup. He didn't intend to let her face down these guys alone.

Laine continued to protest, but the sounds of the babies' cries and the shots drowned her out. Tucker created some sounds of his own by sending a shot at Hines. The bullet smacked into Tucker's truck, very close to his intended target, but the miss got him the results he wanted.

Hines leaned over to fire again.

And this time, Tucker made sure he didn't miss.

He didn't go for a kill shot. He wanted this dirtbag alive so he could explain what the heck was happening here, so Tucker shot Hines in the right shoulder. When the idiot still kept hold of his gun, Tucker put another bullet in his arm.

Even over the noise of the gunfight, Tucker heard Hines groan in pain, and he finally let go of his gun.

Hacker cursed. No doubt because he realized his partner had been shot and was now unable to return fire. Rayanne gave him another reason to spew some profanity. Tucker saw her dart out from behind one of the trees and take aim at Hacker.

“Drop your gun now!” she ordered.

Tucker hurried onto the small porch and took aim at Hacker, as well. A single word of profanity left the man's mouth before he tossed his gun to the side and lifted his hands in surrender.

“Get on the ground,” Tucker demanded. “Both of you.”

Hines's arm and shoulder were bleeding, and he was clearly in pain, but he eased himself to the ground. About fifteen yards away, Hacker did the same.

Tucker slid his phone across the floor toward Laine. “Call Colt and tell him to get out here now. We'll need an ambulance, too.”

Laine gave a shaky nod, and even though she now had both babies in her arms, she managed to grab the phone.

Since Tucker figured the two gunmen could be carrying backup weapons anywhere on their bodies, he kept his own gun aimed and ready when he made his way out the door and down the porch steps. Rayanne kept her gun ready, too, and went to Hacker. Tucker went to Hines.

“Colt should be here soon,” Tucker relayed to Rayanne. But maybe he could use the time to figure out who these guys really were.

Tucker took aim at Hines's head. “Start talking. Tell me about the woman you killed.”

“Didn't kill nobody,” the man snarled. He had his hand clamped to his arm, the pain etched all over his face, but he still managed to look cocky and defiant.

“Wrong answer. Try again.” Tucker made sure he sounded cocky, too. “Who sent you here?”

His tobacco-stained teeth came together in a sneer. “Even if I knew that, I wouldn't tell you. Wouldn't be good for my health.”

“Neither is bleeding out.” Though the man didn't seem to be in danger of doing that, Tucker took his threat a little further. “I can get an ambulance out here real fast. Or real slow. Your choice.”

His mouth tightened even more. “You're not gonna let me die.”

No. But Tucker figured he could bluff him into thinking otherwise. “You just took shots at me, my sister and a friend of mine.”

“She ain't no friend of yours. I know who she is. And who you are. I know that your mama killed her daddy, and there's bad blood between you two. No reason to protect her.”

“I'm a
real
lawman,” Tucker snapped.

That only deepened the man's sneer.

The rain started to come down harder. The thunder rumbled, too. Maybe that ambulance would get there before one of them got hit by lightning.

“You don't need this guy alive, do you?” Rayanne called out. She was standing over Hacker, her gun aimed right at him, while he wriggled belly-down on the ground.

“Why'd you ask that?” Tucker wanted to know.

“Because he's got that look, that's why. The one that morons get right before they do something really stupid, like try and go for my gun. If he does, I want to make sure it's okay for me to put some bullets in his head.”

The
moron
quit moving.

“We don't need him alive,” Tucker assured her.

And that wasn't exactly a bluff. Of course, he would prefer both men breathing so he could try to pit them against each other during the interrogations, but since Hacker's shots could have hurt those newborns, Tucker wasn't feeling very charitable toward the man.

Or toward Hines.

Hines was on his back on the ground. Tucker put his boot against the man's throat. “Talk. Tell me why you came here for Laine.”

“Laine,”
he repeated. “Sounds as if you two have mended some fences.”

Not exactly. But being caught in a gunfight together had a way of pushing those old issues to the side.

For a little while anyway.

“Mending fences won't save her,” Hines said. His top lip lifted. It was more sneer than smile, but the warning put a knot in Tucker's gut.

So did the sound.

Behind them, in the house, Tucker heard something he sure didn't want to hear.

Laine's shout.

“Tucker! There's another gunman.”