Lone Wolf Lawman

Addie wasn’t sure who was more frustrated with this situation—Weston or her. At the moment, she thought she might be the winner.

Because they hadn’t caught the Moonlight Strangler after all.

And that meant he was still out there. Maybe still plotting to kill her.

However, he hadn’t tried to murder her tonight. Not yet anyway. The attacker who’d hurt Teddy and fired shots into the house wasn’t old enough to be the Moonlight Strangler.

So, who was he?

Addie didn’t know, but she was hoping to find out soon. The same was obviously true for Weston.

He had a death grip on the steering wheel of Addie’s truck as they drove toward the hospital. She didn’t miss the glares he was doling out to her, either. He clearly didn’t want her on this trip with him into town. Didn’t want her out in the open.

Well, Addie wasn’t so thrilled about it herself, but she wouldn’t have felt any safer at home than she would at the hospital, where she’d no doubt be surrounded by lawmen.

Maybe surrounded by answers, as well.

Since their attacker would soon be at the hospital, too.

The injured man was just ahead of them in an ambulance. Jericho was inside with him and the medics. Her brother would also be doling out some glares when he learned she’d disobeyed his order for her to stay put at the ranch and had instead come to the hospital with Weston.

But before Addie had left the ranch, she’d first made sure her mother had plenty of protection, both from the ranch hands, Weston’s two PI friends and her other brother Chase who’d hurried out to the scene. Only then, and only after the ambulance had driven away, had Addie demanded that Weston take her with him.

She’d deal with Jericho later.

Later, she’d have to deal with a lot of things.

Including Weston’s arrival.

After three months of not hearing from him, she had written him out of her life. Out of her heart, as well. Addie wasn’t certain what was going on in Weston’s head, but she doubted he would just disappear again.

Well, not until he had caught the Moonlight Strangler anyway.

“I should have known,” Addie heard Weston say.

It wasn’t the first time in the past fifteen minutes he’d said something along those same lines. And maybe they should have known that the Moonlight Strangler would send a lackey to the ranch instead of risking a personal appearance.

Especially after the killer had let Weston know that she was his next target.

Still, a lackey could have killed her just as well as the Moonlight Strangler.

“He’s way too young to be the killer,” Weston grumbled. He was talking to himself now. Or rather berating himself, since the next mumblings had some profanity mixed in with them.

Yes, the guy was too young. Probably only in his late twenties, judging from the quick glimpse she’d gotten of him before Jericho had demanded that she go back inside. Since the Moonlight Strangler had been murdering women for at least thirty years, the shooter definitely fell into the lackey category.

Or worse.

He could be some kind of crazed groupie who had absolutely no knowledge of the Moonlight Strangler’s identity. This could all have been some kind of a sick hoax.

One that could have gotten a lot of people killed.

They were lucky that hadn’t happened, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. Teddy was alive and was already en route to the hospital in an ambulance ahead of the one carrying their attacker, but Addie had no idea how serious his injuries were.

“Thank you for saving my mother and me,” she told Weston.

He glanced at her, maybe wondering if she was sincere. She was. Despite the other stuff going on between Weston and her—the baby stuff—she was thankful he’d been there when the bullets had started flying.

She’d be even more thankful if she knew that was the last of the bullets. But Addie didn’t think she would be that lucky.

“Is it possible this guy faked the threatening letters you got?” she asked.

“No.” Weston didn’t hesitate. “There were personal details in them. Like the cuts on the faces of the victims. That was never leaked to the press.” But then he stopped, added more profanity. “I suppose, though, he could have sent the last two letters. The one that threatened you and my sister. Still...”

“What?” she pressed when he didn’t continue.

“They felt real.” His mouth tightened as if disgusted that he’d rely on something like feelings, but Addie didn’t dismiss it.

“Maybe they felt real because my birth father told him exactly what to write.” Now it was her turn to mumble some profanity. If that was the case, then they needed this slimebag lackey to talk, to tell them anything and everything he might know about the Moonlight Strangler.

“Are you okay?” Weston asked a moment later.

Addie didn’t miss his glance that landed on her stomach. She wasn’t okay, not by a long shot. She felt raw and bruised as if she’d gone through a physical attack instead of just the threat of one. The sound of those bullets would stay with her for the rest of her life.

“I’m fine,” she settled for saying. And she hoped that was true. Her precious baby didn’t deserve to go through this. No one did.

“You should see a doctor while you’re at the hospital. Just to make sure,” he added.

His tone made it sound like an order. Which made her rethink her notion that he’d just leave after catching her birth father.

No.

She really didn’t want to have to deal with this on top of everything else.

“For the record, we barely know each other,” Addie tossed out there. “And you won’t exactly be welcome in my family.”

Another glance at her stomach. “Is that supposed to send me running for the hills?”

“It might after you meet Jericho.”

“I’ve already met Jericho,” he countered.

“Barely.” They’d exchanged brief introductions and some testosterone-laced glares while waiting for the ambulance. “He’s very protective of me.”

Especially since he’d learned she was pregnant. Addie was thankful for his brotherly love. Thankful for all the other things he’d done for her, including offering her a shoulder when she’d been crying over her heart-crushing encounter with Weston. But Jericho wouldn’t be showing much love to the man who’d slept with his kid sister and then dumped her.

“I’ll deal with Jericho,” Weston said as if it were gospel.

“Good luck with that,” she said in the same tone he’d used.