Cowboy Behind the Badge

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.”

Chapter Four (#ulink_1a6176fc-2cb7-5672-938e-c83bd6af6cf4)

Laine saw the third man. But it was seconds too late to try to get the babies out of the house. Too late to do anything other than call out to Tucker and hope that would be enough to save them.

The hulking goon must have come in from the front of the house, away from the fight that’d been going on in the side yard with Tucker, his sister and the other two killers.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the man warned her. He stepped into the doorway of the pantry, blocking her exit, and pointed a gun right at her.

Just the sight of him caused the skin to crawl on the back of her neck, but Laine forced herself not to panic. She had the babies gripped in her arms, but she put them back on the floor so she could position herself in front of them. Trying to protect them while she prayed that Tucker would get there fast enough to put a stop to this.

If Tucker was able to do it, that is.

She’d heard those shots outside, and one of them could have hit Tucker before he even made it out to stop the gunmen. It sickened her to think of that. She hadn’t wanted to involve him or his sister in this, but she’d had no choice.

Laine didn’t recognize the guy in front of her, but he was huge. At least six foot four and with a hulking body and wide shoulders. Even if he hadn’t had the gun, he would have been formidable.

“The three of you are coming with me,” the man snarled, and he used the barrel of his gun to motion for her to get moving. “Now!” he added when she didn’t budge.

Laine couldn’t risk him firing, because even if he didn’t intend to hurt the babies, it could easily happen in such a confined space.

“Please don’t hurt them.” Not that she thought pleading would help, but it might be able to buy her some time.

Or not.

“I said move!” he shouted.

The man came right at her, caught onto her arm and flung her against the pantry shelves. Her shoulder hit the shelves hard, and the pain jolted through that entire side of her body. In the back of her mind, Laine realized she’d have bruises. Too bad worse things could happen in the next couple of minutes.

Boxes of pasta and canned soup tumbled off the shelves, pelting the floor. Despite the hard grip the man still had on her, Laine dropped back down so she could prevent the babies from being hit.

She didn’t stay there long. Once the pantry items had stopped falling, she did the only thing she could do. She came up fighting.

Laine grabbed the first thing she could reach—a large can of mixed nuts—and threw it at him. It hit him on the chin, the can flying open, flinging nuts at him, but the can and nuts bounced off him as if he hadn’t even felt it.

She didn’t stop. She hurled a can of soup at him next, and received the same reaction as before. Well, almost. She hadn’t thought it possible, but the fury in his expression actually went up a notch.

Making a feral growling sound, he came after her again.

But he froze. Then cursed. Without warning, he caught onto her hair and hauled her out of the pantry and into the kitchen.

She heard them then.

The footsteps.

With his gun gripped in his hand, Tucker came in from the living room and took cover by the partial wall that divided the kitchen from the rest of the house. Maybe he’d tried to sneak up on the guy, but if so, it hadn’t worked. The man dragged her in front of him and put the gun to her head.