Page 15 of Outlaw Ridge: Hayes

“I need his number so I can contact him right now,” Jemma insisted.

No imploding look this time. Cordelia looked very concerned, but she didn’t make a move to provide Jemma withthat info. Her father did though. He took back the bag with his phone, and using it through the plastic, he scrolled through the contacts and sent the number to Jemma. When her own phone pinged with the info, she stepped away from Cordelia and her father and made the call.

It went straight to voicemail.

There were possibly some dead spots for reception on the drive from Outlaw Ridge to San Antonio, but it was equally possible that Cordelia had instructed her son not to take any calls from Jemma or the cops. So, Jemma used her father’s phone to attempt the contact.

That one went to voicemail, too.

She was about to ask to use Cordelia’s cell to repeat the process, but Hayes touched his finger to his earpiece. Aiden was likely communicating something to him.

Something that caused every muscle in Hayes’ face to turn to iron.

“Copy that,” Hayes muttered, no doubt responding to Aiden, and he motioned for Jemma to follow him out of the office.

Oh, God. This wasn’t good. But she managed to get her feet moving, and she went with Hayes in the hall. Her stomach tightened into a knot when he turned to her.

And tightened even more when he spoke, and she heard the news that she hadn’t wanted to hear.

“Owen’s been shot.”

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Chapter Five

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Hayes tried to tamp down the emotions coursing through him. A stormy mix of worry, dread, and anger. Owen was more than his boss. He was a mentor and friend, and Hayes wanted to annihilate anyone who had done this to him.

But he also wanted to keep Jemma safe.

And that’s why he couldn’t lose his head over this. He had to think and rethink every move they made.

“Is Owen alive?” Jemma asked. She was in the shaky mode again, and she’d lost way too much color in her face.

“According to Aiden, he is.” And through his earpiece Hayes could hear his brother having a conversation with someone. Maybe the EMTs. Maybe Owen’s partner, Ruby Maverick. “Owen was at the gated entrance to Duane’s school, and a sniper shot him when he lowered the window to speak into the intercom.”

She cursed, which had pretty much been Hayes’ initial reaction. “Let’s get out of here and check on him,” Jemma insisted.

Yeah, Hayes very much wanted to do both, but he went with the clearer-head approach. “Aiden, could you bring in a Kevlar vest and helmet?” he asked through the earpiece. “I want Jemma to use them while I get her back into the cruiser.”

“Give me just a minute,” was Aiden’s quick reply.

“Call one of your dad’s landlines and let him know you have to leave,” Hayes instructed. There was no need for Jemma to go back in and have another round with her stepmother. That would only delay the trip to check on Owen.

And delay getting her the hell out of this house.

After all, one of their key suspects, Cordelia, was under this very roof, and the woman might decide to try to finish off two of the last remaining deputies here and now.

Jemma nodded and rang her father as they made their way to the front door. “He’s not answering. He’s probably on one of the other lines,” she said a moment later, and his answering machine no doubt kicked in because she left him a message.

“And what about Duane? Will we go to the school and confront him?” she asked.

“Not yet. The CSIs will need to process the scene, and two operatives are on the way there to look for the shooter. Maybe they’ll capture him or at least give us the all clear. In the meantime, I’ll get Duane to come to the hotel for questioning. Cordelia’s son, too.” He wanted to hear what Brooks had to say.

Hayes stopped long enough to send the text to Molly so she could contact Duane and Brooks. Maybe neither man would give her a hassle about showing up for interviews, and if they did, well, Hayes was in a pisser of a mood and would give them a hassle right back.

Jemma and he stopped at the front door, and she looked up at him. “Have Aiden bring in two vests and helmets,” she insisted. “I want you wearing them as well.”

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