Page 47 of Captive at Rescue Ridge

His twin issued a grunt. “Traps have no business out here. No one in our family would have set one.”

Archer agreed. “I was following a blood trail.” He studied his brother for a second. “What are you doing here?”

“We heard the shot, so Owen refused to let me investigate without him,” Travis interjected.

Owen grunted. “What can I say? I’ll always have Archer’s back.”

It wasn’t just a twin thing, though, that was a strong influence. It was a brother thing. Either one of them would do the same for any one of their siblings.

“I lost her.” Saying those words gutted Archer. He should have taken her with him to go into the barn. He should have told her how much she meant to him. He should have made certain she was safe. Should have. Would have. Could have. But he hadn’t.

Losing her would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn’t allow himself to contemplate the worst-case scenario when it came to Annalee. She’d been through too much for her life to end here in the woods.

“Can you walk?” Owen asked.

“No choice.”

“Let’s go find her,” Owen said.

Archer wrapped an arm around his brother, leaving Travis to defend them if they were caught off guard. He trusted the sheriff’s abilities. Of course, he’d prefer to have a firm grip on what they were up against. Were there others besides Becca and the male?

“Did you get a sense if Becca and the guy were working alone?” Archer whispered as they picked a direction and began moving.

“Russ,” Owen said, taking some of Archer’s weight. “I’m pretty sure she called him Russ, but to be honest, I was in and out of consciousness for a while there. By the time I came to, I was in the barn in the condition you found me.”

The sound of hard footsteps ahead of them meant someone or something was running.

Archer didn’t want to hold his brother back or leave his brother-in-law without backup. “Go with Travis.”

Owen’s eyebrow shot up.

Archer grabbed hold of a tree to steady himself. “I’m sure. Go!”

With a nod, Owen and Travis took off in the direction of the sound.

Annalee neededto figure out more reasons to stall for time to give Archer a chance to find them. She’d forgotten to rip another piece of her shirt off after Russ had shot her mother. The move proved he would do anything to escape, including killing his partner.

The blast should have brought all kinds of attention to the area. Archer had to be close.

“Get up,” Russ said in a growl. He stood just shy of six feet tall with muddy brown hair and dark eyes. Slicked back, greasy hair gave him a fresh-from-prison look. He had on blue jeans and a polo style shirt underneath a fleece sweater. Hard boots were going to leave marks on her skin. They would heal.

She looked at her mother, who cowered every time Russ talked down to her.

If he got them out of the woods, would he kill them? Was he worried about leaving dead bodies behind? Or was he keeping both of them in case he needed hostages for negotiation purposes?

Granted, Becca was an accomplice. She was going to go down along with Russ. It broke Annalee’s heart to think her own mother could do this.

Becca scooted closer, looked down, and whispered, “Do what he says.”

“And then what?” She kept her voice low, too. Once Russ decided he didn’t need one or both of them any longer, what then? Would he put a bullet through their foreheads? Dump their bodies on the side of the road, left to be picked at by vultures, and who knew what else?

Russ’s boot slammed into the side of Becca’s face, causing her head to snap to one side.

“Stop it,” Annalee said, getting to her feet. She put her hands in the air where he could see them. Could she get close enough to grab the gun?

Heart battering the inside of her ribcage, she said, “This ends right now. You won’t hurt my mother again. Do you hear me?”

She expected Russ to push back. To fight. Instead, he lowered the gun toward Becca.

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