Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (60 page)

The ambulance was parked next to a late model black Range Rover. Lorie was here. She had to be. Matt had no doubt he was seriously outnumbered.

Where were the troops? He couldn't wait forever, not with Lorie trapped inside with her kidnappers. The front door was easily accessible, and he could find cover in the trees. The back door led out onto a deck overlooking a meadow.

Moving far enough away from the cabin that he wouldn't be overheard, Matt activated his radio again. “MacGregor. I've found the ambulance at Pitt's cabin. I need that backup, now.”

The radio crackled. The sheriff answered. “We have units en route. Hold your position, Mac.”

“Roger.”

Waiting might very well be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

* * *

It was amazing, really. Supervisor Pitt didn't look like a madman or a sociopath. Perhaps he had some other mental condition. More likely it was a spiritual condition. Regardless, Lorie knew that she needed to get away from him as soon as possible. She continued to pray silently as she waited for the right moment to act.

“I had great hopes for Gray.”

Quentin turned around in the kitchen and gave his father an ugly look, but Pitt's back was to him.

Maybe she could turn Quentin against Pitt.

First, she'd have to keep him talking. “How did you discover you had a son in Colombia?”

“My son found me. Amazing, really. Such a simple thing. He had finally found his birth records. By then his grandparents were dead. He'd inherited some interesting property, and knew exactly what to do with it. Coffee. Emeralds. Cocaine. He'd become a very clever businessman. Relocating to the United States was a brilliant move on his part. After that, he hired private investigators to locate me, and keep it quiet.”

Quentin gave his father another insolent look, which the supervisor missed.

“Why did he keep it a secret? I'd have thought he'd be thrilled to find his father alive after—how long?”

“Thirty-three years. It was—an adjustment, for both of us.”

In the kitchen, Quentin made an odd noise and muttered something under his breath.

Clearly this was a sensitive subject. Lorie racked her brain for something that might get an even stronger reaction. “It sounds like he was everything you could want in a son.”

Pitt's face hardened. “He was that and more. Until you deliberately stole him from me.”

Oops. Wrong move. And this was one chess game that could get her killed. What could she say to derail some of the anger? He seemed proud of how cunning his son had been—maybe that was a good angle to take?

“He had everyone in San Diego convinced he was a true philanthropist.”

“But he was, my dear.” Pitt smiled at her. “Just as I am. You can check the lists of all the charitable foundations to which I contribute.”

Lorie bit her lip. This was getting her no closer to dividing and conquering. How could she twist the knife for Quentin without setting off his father?

“I can't understand why you're willing to risk everything you love. You've already lost one son. Surely you don't want to lose your other one.”

“And why would I do that? Quentin isn't going anywhere, are you, boy?”

Quentin walked in from the kitchen. “Doesn't look much like it. You, on the other hand, have been a peck of trouble from the get-go, Ms. Librarian. We should have just killed you. But no.” He glanced at his father.
“He
had to drag it out, to make you suffer.”

“Now, now, Quentin. You know I didn't mean for you to get shot. Running them off the road should have finished the whole family. If you'd done a better job—”

Quentin turned purple. “I suppose you think your
brilliant
son Gray could have done a better job.” He swore. “Your pet project here shot him while he was trying to off that double-crossing chick who was going to turn him in. He couldn't even protect himself, let alone his operation. And now you're so smart, you've probably screwed up our own operation with your stupid vendetta!”

“Shut up, Quent. It's over. We'll take Miss Narramore to the old Cooper place and set it on fire. All the evidence will point to Adderson, and we'll be home free.”

Pitt gestured with the gun. “All right, Miss Narramore. Time to go. If you're good, I may even shoot you before I set the place on fire.”

Lord, you were with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the midst of the fire, but please—

“Get the door, Quent.”

Collecting a rope from the hall tree, Quentin put it over his shoulder and opened the door.

“After you, Ms. Narramore.”

With no choice but to follow, Lorie headed toward her doom.

TWENTY

A
s Matt watched, the door opened and Lorie walked outside, followed by Supervisor Pitt carrying a semiautomatic pistol aimed at the small of her back. Pitt's son Quentin trailed after them, a rope slung carelessly over his left shoulder.

From his position behind a pine ten yards away, Matt lifted the rifle and sighted through it. He'd take out the supervisor first, and then worry about his son. Pitt's proximity to Lorie made this tricky. If he missed...

He couldn't miss. Lorie's life depended on it.

Very gently, he started to squeeze the trigger—

Cold metal pressed against his right temple. Glancing at the man who had the drop on him, Matt recognized him as Paulie Jones, one of the mechanics who worked at the Pitt Stop.

“Nuh-uh. Lower that rifle nice and slow.”

If he complied, he and Lorie were both dead. If he didn't, he and Lorie were both dead.

Lord, help!

Matt eased the rifle down from his shoulder and held it out to one side. It was ripped from his grasp and tossed into a tangle of brambles. As Jones fumbled at Matt's holster, Matt reached up and grabbed the mechanic's gun hand, forcing it upward. It discharged, the bullet slamming into a pine branch.

As they struggled over the gun, it went off again, the bullet flying wildly to hit Quentin Pitt in the ankle. He went down, squealing like a wounded razorback.

“Daddy!”

“Shut up, Quent.”

Jones seemed to have superhuman strength. He fought like a madman.

Dimly, Matt heard Lorie shout. “Meth!”

Now he understood. If Jones were on meth, he'd have enhanced reflexes, and enough chemicals pumping through his brain to make him think he could conquer the world. Matt prayed as he fought, prayed for the strength to overcome the addictive drug that had fueled the blitzkrieg.

Matt wrestled the gun from Jones and smacked it into his temple, felling him. Jones lay flat on the ground, unconscious.

“Stop right there!”

Matt wheeled in the direction of Pitt's shout, going into a gun crouch. The supervisor had Lorie in a chokehold, pistol to her head.

“Throw the gun down or she dies right now!”

Matt shook his head. “You'll kill her anyway. That's always been your plan.”

Pitt raised an eyebrow. “Don't be a fool, Deputy. I can make you rich.”

Matt spat on the ground. “I don't need your money.”

He loved her, and at any second, he might lose her. And she was...reaching into her pocket?
What's Lorie doing?

“I can give you power!”

“I have God's power on my side.”

“God!” Pitt sneered. “You think God cares what happens to any of us?” He shook his head. “You waited too long, Deputy. Tell your girlfriend goodbye.”

As Pitt's finger slowly tightened on the trigger, Lorie's hand flew up, sunlight glinting off a deadly looking scalpel. Pitt screamed in pain as the gun flew out of his hand, blood pouring from his slashed fingers.

“Down!” Matt shouted.

Lorie dived toward the ground, rolling away from her captors.

Matt pulled the trigger.

Pitt reeled backward, blood spurting from his chest before he hit the ground.

Quentin screamed. “Daddy!” Despite his injured ankle and bandaged arm, he reached for the gun his father had dropped. Matt shot it out of reach. “Don't move, Junior.”

Lorie scrambled to her feet and hurried over to Supervisor Pitt, looking around for anything she could use to stop the bleeding. Kneeling beside him, she bunched up her skirt and pressed it onto his chest.

Pitt's eyes opened. “What—what're you doing?”

“Trying to save your life.”

Pitt blinked. “Why?”

“Because I couldn't save your son's.” She pressed harder, but blood soaked her skirt and stained her hands.

Pitt blinked, seeming to try to focus on Lorie's face.

“You—forgive me?”

Matt couldn't stand it one more second. “Lorie, get away from him!”

She turned to look at Matt and shook her head. “No. I have to do this.” She looked back at the man who lay there, slowly dying under her hands, despite her best efforts.

“Yes. I forgive you.”

Matt's hands clenched the pistol, ready to fire again if necessary. Standing there, watching, not knowing what to do or how to pray, Matt remembered the scripture, and let the Holy Spirit intercede on their behalf.

Pitt drew a gurgling breath. Maybe he planned to use it to forgive her for her role in Grayson's death. Or to apologize for what he'd done. They'd never know for sure—that breath was his last.

“Daddy! No!” Quentin's cry of anguish rent the pine-scented air.

Lorie stood up as the sound of sirens penetrated the woods. Tears poured down her face. Still covered in pine tar from yesterday, and now drenched in blood, she should have looked a wreck.

She was beautiful.

“Get the rope, Lorie.”

Picking it up from where Quentin had dropped it, Lorie brought it to Matt.

“You any good with knots?”

She nodded, her tangled hair flopping around her face.

“Tie up Jones.”

Lorie knelt in the dirt and, with moves that would make any bulldogger proud, bound Jones hand and foot while Matt kept his gun trained on Quentin.

After she hog-tied the mechanic, Lorie returned to Matt's side. He gathered her to himself with his free arm as the cavalry arrived.

“I don't care if you're in law enforcement, Matt.”

“And I don't care that your name is Lorie.”

After a Lanier County and two Dainger County Sheriff's Department SUVs drove into the clearing to take charge of the situation, Matt handed off the gun to Gerhardt so he could pull Lorie into a better hug.

“I love you, Lorie Narramore.”

She blinked away tears. “And I love you,
Deputy
Matt.”

When Matt's lips met Lorie's, he knew it was true. She
did
love him. Everything was going to be all right.

EPILOGUE

L
orie sat by Matt's side in the living room of the family house on Rob Roy Ranch, surrounded by her family, Matt's family and the Sutherlands. Vangie Rae hadn't aged a day since the last time Lorie'd seen her—the glamour industry had been able to accomplish that much. Still as slim as she'd been in high school, Vangie was now twice as blonde, and even bubblier in person than she was on the phone, despite the mixed feelings at tonight's get-together.

“It's a pity Joseph Pitt didn't live to stand trial.” Frank Sutherland wore the same look of concern Lorie had come to know and understand. What a hard job he had. She was glad Matt was only a lowly deputy, on his way to becoming a detective. Maybe Frank
needed
a wife like Vangie Rae, to add some lightness to his life and keep him sane.

“Now, Frank. The county will have quite enough to deal with giving Quentin, Jones and the rest of Pitt's crew fair trials. Probably have to have a change of venue.” Matt looked as though he was glad about that.

“So Grayson Carl was Joseph Pitt's son.” Dad shook his head. “I'd heard the drug ring in Dainger County was widespread, but I had no idea it had links to Colombia.”

Lorie linked fingers with Matt. “And I had no idea Carl had ties to Dainger County.”

“I bet you'd never have come back if you'd known, and then look at what you'd have missed!” Vangie beamed at Lorie. “And was I right, or was I right about the handsome Deputy MacGregor?”

Lorie blushed. “Now, Vangie, nothing's settled.”

“Not yet,” Matt said, “but soon. I think we need a little more privacy before I ask Lorie what I want to ask her.” He'd told her earlier of making peace with Lorene and Owen, something that touched her heart deeply.

Lorie looked up at him and saw a gleam in his blue eyes. A shiver of pure delight tickled her to the core.

“So does this wrap up your meth-lab investigation?” Dad asked. He was sitting with a hand on Mom's knee, since it hurt his ribs too much to try to put his arm around her.

“I don't think so.” Frank leaned back against the sofa cushion. “We're still looking closely at Leonard Adderson. But serving that search warrant on the Pitt Stop showed us how they've been fixing cars to transport drugs. At least that's one thing we'll be able to shut down.” Frank's cell phone beeped, and he glanced at the text message. “In fact, someone's just arrived who will be able to clear up a lot of your questions.”

A tap at the door sent Sandy to answer it. When Lorie saw who was standing there, her jaw dropped.

“Ms. Montoya!”

The lithe brunette who came into the room looked a bit uncomfortable, but she approached Lorie, who stood to meet her.

“Actually, it isn't Candace Montoya.” She reached into the Coach bag at her side and pulled out a leather folder, flipping it open so Lorie could see a badge and ID. “I'm Special Agent Carmen Machada, DEA. I apologize for running out on you and not appearing at the trial, but I was in deep cover. Testifying would have blown an investigation that had been ongoing for three years.”

“DEA?” Lorie put a hand to her head. “You didn't just leave me in the lurch, then.”

“No.” Regret crossed the agent's intelligent face. “I did everything I could to supply information to your attorney and to make sure you weren't convicted. I'm glad it worked.”

“So am I.”

“I'm happy to say the undercover work paid off. You shouldn't have to worry about the cartel being out to get you anymore, Ms. Narramore.”

Relief made Lorie weak in the knees. Matt appeared at her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her upright.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!”

Carmen smiled. “Just doing my job.”

Frank spoke up. “Since she helped round up the rest of the Orgulloso cartel's California arm, Ms. Machada has been assigned as liaison to the Dainger County Sheriff's Department. She's going to help us find the rest of our hydra-headed monster.”

“Why, isn't that the grandest thing!” Vangie Rae lit up. “You're not married, are you, Miss Carmen?”

Ms. Machada looked startled. “No. Why?”

“Well, there are several handsome deputies I've been trying to match up with someone special—”

“Vangie Rae!” Frank roared, as the room dissolved into laughter.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from UNDERCOVER MARRIAGE by Terri Reed.