Confiscated Conception. Delores Fossen
contacted each other the entire time she’d been at the ranch house. Yet here he was, right back in her life.
Jared put his tool kit away and eased open the window. The morning breeze stirred the curtains when he shoved out the screen. No alarms went off, which meant he’d successfully deactivated the system.
“If you’re doing this, we have to leave now,” Jared insisted.
But Rachel held her ground. “And then what?”
Obviously not pleased with her lack of cooperation, he mumbled some profanity under his breath. “I need to take you someplace safe so you won’t have to testify. The courts will almost certainly ask for another trial delay while they try to locate you. In the meantime, we find this child and get him out of danger.”
It was a simple plan. Also a vague one. And it had holes in it the size of the Alamo.
“You didn’t turn this over to the police,” Rachel pointed out. “Why?”
This was one of those times she wished she didn’t know Jared so well. His mouth tightened. A muscle stirred in his firm jaw. And a sickening feeling crawled down her spine before he even answered.
“The person who wrote that letter said the baby would die if we told the cops, and I’m pretty sure there’s a leak in the department. A big one from a person who can do lots of damage if he puts his mind to it. I’ll give you the details once we’re out of here.”
Great. Just great. Her life had just been turned upside down and inside out. Somewhere out there, a child—maybe their child—was possibly in grave danger, and they couldn’t even go to the police.
Rachel debated and wished like the devil that she had more time to figure out what to do. This could easily be construed as the point of no return. Once she went out that window, she would essentially be on the run. A fugitive. But if she stayed and told the truth to convict a killer, then a child might die.
Jared helped her decision along. “Every minute we waste here, we could be using to find the baby.”
He was right, of course—about that particular argument, anyway. She couldn’t be sure about anything else.
However, when Jared gripped her arm, Rachel didn’t argue. Didn’t take a step back. She climbed out into the yard with him. Then she prayed, hoping this wasn’t the biggest mistake of her life.
Jared didn’t give her time to dwell on her doubts. He kept low, his gaze darting all around. He led her to the side of the house, toward the detached garage.
“We’re taking one of the detective’s cars?” Rachel whispered.
“No. But I need a distraction.”
Looping his arm around her waist, he ducked behind some thick shrubs. He paused a moment and checked out the yard before he continued to the side door of the garage. From the corner of her eye, Rachel saw him try to turn the knob.
It was locked.
Other than one single harsh word of profanity, he said nothing. Instead, he rammed his shoulder into it, but when that didn’t budge it, he snatched the tiny tool kit from his pocket and got to work picking the lock.
Rachel’s gaze whipped back to the open window where they’d escaped. No sign of the officers. Yet. But they’d come. After all, it was their job to get her to the courthouse. Once they realized she wasn’t in the bedroom, the search would be on.
For months, she’d prepared herself for that testimony, and for its aftermath. A divorce. A new life. A new identity. Out with the old and in with the new. But instead of putting the undercover investigation and her past behind her, she was apparently about to leap headfirst back into it.
God.
Was she doing the right thing? Maybe there was some other way to save the child. Some way that didn’t involve them going on the run.
Rachel heard the sound at the exact moment that Jared apparently did. Footsteps. Some movement along the driveway on the side of the house. He reacted quickly. Jared shoved her behind him and pressed her against the wall of the garage.
She waited. And listened. Even over the thuds of her own heartbeat, Rachel clearly heard the footsteps on the cement. They were hardly more than whispers, but it wasn’t difficult to tell where they were headed.
Right toward them.
It was probably Detective Smith doing a routine check of the grounds, but if he saw them, there’d be nothing routine about his reaction.
Jared turned, facing her, and he went back to picking the lock. She saw the intense focus in his eyes. Felt his breath brush against her cheek. Felt the heat of his body.
But she also felt his shoulder holster, and his weapon.
That didn’t do much to steady her heart. Thank God he hadn’t drawn it, but he probably would if that was the only way they could get out of there.
The footsteps suddenly stopped. She’d seen Smith do a check of grounds dozens of times and knew he was thorough. He’d no doubt be coming around the side of the garage very soon. Too soon. She and Jared needed to get inside, or Smith would certainly see them.
The lock finally gave way, and Jared pushed her inside and quickly followed. There were two cars parked in the dark, cramped space. He opened the door on the one nearest them and retrieved the remote for the garage.
“Come on,” Jared whispered. But he didn’t use the remote. He opened the side door again and peered out.
“Rachel?” she heard Detective Miller call out, the sound coming through the open window of her bedroom. But it wasn’t the only sound. The officer soon began to pound on the door. “Open up. I want to make sure you’re all right in there.”
Jared glanced over his shoulder at her and put his finger to his mouth in a stay-quiet gesture. He led her out of the garage, staying behind the shrubs, and they made it to the side of the house. Only then did he lean back around the corner and press the button on the remote opener.
The noise started almost immediately as the metal door began to lift. Jared didn’t waste any time. He tossed down the remote, latched onto her and got her moving toward the front of the house where he’d parked.
Smith shouted something to Miller, and a second later, Rachel heard the back door slam. The diversion had worked.
Well, maybe.
Once the officers verified that both of their vehicles were in the garage, they’d start looking elsewhere.
Jared opened the door on the driver side of his car and pushed her through to the passenger seat. He peeled off his jacket, tossing it on the seat. Probably so he’d have better access to his shoulder holster.
Not a comforting thought.
The key was already in the ignition, and he wasted no time starting it.
Rachel caught a glimpse of Miller and Smith as they raced around the side of the house toward them. Both had their weapons drawn and ready. That didn’t deter Jared.
“Get down, Rachel,” he ordered.
He gunned the engine and headed for the road.
Chapter Two
Jared shot past Miller and Smith and sped along the gravel road in front of the house. His best chance was to make it to the highway and try to outrun the two cops. And maybe, just maybe, those Texas Rangers at the checkpoint wouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later.
Of course, escape from the safe house was just the first hurdle. He didn’t want to speculate how many hurdles they had ahead of them after that.
Or what those hurdles might be.
Even some serious detective work and a fair amount luck might not be enough to help them find the child—and stay ahead of danger.
“Are