Page 6 of Lone Star Country Protector
Something had caused her to break all her rules and give in to the overwhelming desire to spend time with this man she’d met. She’d believed him to be law enforcement because of his swagger and the Dallas PD baseball cap in the back seat of his vehicle, so trust came easily. Too easily?
When he’d confirmed his job, she’d run just as fast.
Was she letting her guard down? Because she had a four-inch scar at her hairline and another one under her right arm to remind her relaxing with anyone was a bad idea. Her ex had also taught her that it was impossible to really know anyone. People changed. Sometimes, right in front of your eyes.
Blakely made a beeline for her next-door neighbor’s driveway. In this area, backyards were protected by eight-foot wood board-on-board privacy fences. The community was known for it, and it was largely the reason she’d decided to buy her first home here. The neighborhood also had a metal gate with a box code needed to enter. The gate kept out solicitors easily enough. A determined criminal?
Clearly no.
The sense of security of the community had been shattered this evening. Blakely realized how false that sense had been.
Dalton saying she’d picked up a shadow was no joke. The man was a half step behind her almost the second she changed course. He kept a distance, though, allowing her the freedom to search everywhere, including underneath her neighbor’s car.
Coming up empty, she moved to the backyard. A jungle gym immediately caught her attention. She bolted toward it,resisting the urge to call out to Chase in case Ski Mask was hiding inside instead. Or had Chase in there with a knife to her nephew’s throat.
This outdoor swing set was built log-cabin style with a two-story fort that led to a green slide. A pair of swings were next to the fort.
Blakely’s heart skipped a beat at the realization this was exactly the kind of place her nephew would hide.
Movement behind the window on the second story of the fort stopped her cold.
Chase?
Or someone else?
Chapter Three
Dalton drew his weapon as he moved beside Blakely. With a nod, he took the lead. Moving a few steps in front of her and then around to the side, he gave the fort a wide berth. Someone was inside. The last thing he wanted to do was further traumatize the little boy if this was Chase.
However, it was impossible to tell who was hiding inside the second story of the jungle gym. Dalton didn’t take chances, and he didn’t take anything for granted. Until he knew for certain the person in the fort was a child, he would treat the situation with caution.
Slowly, carefully, he scanned the backyard. There was an eight-foot privacy fence around the wooded area. The tree trunks were thick enough for a person to hide behind. Rather than risk being jumped from behind, Dalton moved from tree to tree with the stealth of a panther hunting prey. There was a dozen, give or take, and he checked each one as well as the canopy to ensure no one had found a way to climb up.
Blakely stayed rooted to her spot while he moved in from the back. She stood to the side of a tree, which would give her cover in the event a knife was thrown her way or the perp she’d dubbed Ski Mask had a gun. A knife, Blakely had noted, was an intimate way of killing someone. You had to get up close and personal, look someone in the eyes as youthrust the blade inside them. Ski Mask had responded to her question, asking what he wanted, with one word.You.
The fact she didn’t recognize the voice wasn’t surprising since Ski Mask had spoken the word in a growl.
As Dalton made it close enough to get a visual of the fort occupant, he noted the shape was that of a boy. He turned his attention toward Blakely, who had been studying his every move, and waved her toward the fort.
She caught on immediately and bolted toward the stairs. “Chase, buddy, it’s me. I’m coming up.”
The image of Blakely reuniting with the scared-to-death seven-year-old seared into Dalton’s heart. The kid launched himself at his aunt, throwing his small arms around her neck before burying his face in her hair. His sobs echoed as Dalton informed the officer the search for Chase could be called off and that he’d been found safe. There was, however, still a perp on the loose in the neighborhood. He urged the officer to tell folks to go back inside and keep their doors locked. He further instructed the officer to tell them to exercise caution as they left their homes and report any suspicious activity immediately.
The officer confirmed the instructions. Then, Dalton reported to his supervisor as he scanned the perimeter, giving Blakely and Chase a few moments of safety and privacy. Watching the two of them stirred feelings inside his chest that he had no idea lurked there. Not yet thirty, he was too young to want a family of his own, in his opinion. He’d never had that pull to get married or have kids. His own father, who’d been a good man by all accounts, died not long after Dalton was born. His mother left the family high and dry. The woman took off after Dalton and his siblings had been dropped off to spend a weekend with their grandparents, and she never looked back. Rumor had it that the “Motherof the Year” was remarried with a teenage son. Why the woman who’d walked away from three young children had decided to give motherhood another go-round was beyond his comprehension.
To avoid passing on those genes, Dalton figured the messy bloodline stopped with him. He had siblings who used to feel the same, until his sister, Julie aka Jules, met Toby anyway. Those two were loved up now, planning a wedding.A wedding.
Sounded like the equivalent of being sentenced to life, if you asked Dalton.
He had no idea if Jules’s future plans had changed. Now that all three of his cousins had found the loves of their lives—his cousin Abi had also become a stepmother—he figured it was just him and Camden left holding the bag. His brother was the oldest on both sides of the family at thirty-five years old. His cousin Crystal was second oldest at thirty-three. Then came sister Jules at thirty-two, followed by his cousin Duke, who was thirty. Both he and Abi were twenty-eight, pushing twenty-nine. All six of the Remington grandkids had followed their grandfather’s footsteps into the US Marshals Service.
All six were devoted to their careers and their family. Each were taking turns holding vigil at the hospital after their grandparents were seriously injured in an accident on the farm road where they lived. Their paint horse ranch was being well tended while they were each in a coma, each fighting for their life. Dalton would take his turn next but kept close tabs on the situation, which could go either way at any moment. He couldn’t imagine life without his grandparents after they’d taken him, his siblings and their cousins to raise.
Guilt was a gut punch at not being able to be there forthem now. But it was Jules’s turn. She’d wrapped a case and had taken leave. Everyone was taking a turn. Though, no one expected the hospital stay to last this long. Camden could take leave after Dalton’s turn.
Blakely climbed down the ladder with her nephew glued to her and joined Dalton. “I need to call my sister but—”
It would be impossible to find her phone let alone manage a call without some help.
