The Horseman's Son (13 page)

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Authors: Delores Fossen

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction

BOOK: The Horseman's Son
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Millie volleyed nervous glances between Collena and him. “We’re staying at the hotel, and I know that Mother had been trying to keep an eye on Curtis. Last night, when he left the hotel, she took Grandpa Hank’s truck and followed him. I followed her in my car.”

That meshed with the surveillance video, but what troubled Dylan was why the video hadn’t managed to capture the images of Ruth leaving. But then, maybe the woman had used the hotel’s side parking lot. If so, the camera angle wouldn’t have recorded her.

“Did you see your mother kill Curtis Reese?” Collena asked point-blank.

Millie frantically shook her head. “No. I had to stop for gas, and I lost track of her. For all I know, she might not have followed him after that. She might not have hurt him.”

“But she might have,” Dylan concluded.

Millie took his arm. “That’s why I’m here. I want you to help her. Talk to her, Dylan. Make her go back on those pills.”

Dylan looked down at the nearly full bottle of prescription medicine. And then he looked at Collena. “I need to make a quick call.” He waited until he had Collena’s nod of reassurance before he stepped into the corridor and took out his cell phone.

But he didn’t call Ruth, as Millie had probably expected him to do.

He called Dr. Finn McGrath, a friend in the nearby town of Fall Creek, Texas.

“Finn,” he greeted when the man answered. “I don’t have much time, and I need a favor.”

“What can I do for you?”

“A friend of a friend is taking a drug called perenazine.” Dylan used the label to spell it out. “She was using it for depression, but stopped—”

“That’s not an antidepressant,” Finn interrupted. “Well, not a normal antidepressant anyway. It’s an antipsychotic drug and is normally used to treat delusional psychosis and severe cases of bipolar disorder.”

Dylan refused to react just yet. “I know what bipolar means, but please explain the rest of that in laymen’s terms.”

“The patient was probably having problems distinguishing reality from fantasy.”

Now, Dylan reacted. He wasn’t happy to hear that, and he was concerned about what else he might learn from his next question. “Would this person be violent?”

“Possibly. That’s why it’s important to stay on the medication.”

That tightened his stomach. “And if the person went off the medication?”

“Then, there’d be a serious problem.”

And that’s exactly what Dylan was afraid of.

He looked at the bottle again, so he could read out the dosage to Finn, but that’s when Dylan noticed the problem. The patient’s first name had been obliterated with what appeared to be a black permanent marker. Only the surname remained.

Sayers.

The surname of not just Ruth.

But also of Millie and Hank.

Of course, why would Millie bring this to him if it were hers? Dylan immediately thought of an answer. Maybe she’d done that to throw suspicion off herself. But would she really do that and put the blame on her mother?
That
he couldn’t answer.

So, the question was—whose antipsychotic medication was this? Once Dylan knew that, he might also know the identity of a killer.

Chapter Thirteen

Collena read through the information on the computer screen and realized that Dylan had been right. The drug Millie had brought over to show them was indeed antipsychotic medication. It was too bad Millie had insisted on taking the bottle back with her—so she could try to convince her mother to take the pills.

Or so Millie had said.

But Collena wished she had that bottle and its contents to send to the police lab in San Antonio. That way, she and Dylan might have learned whose medication it really was. A call to the doctor hadn’t produced the answer because the man was out of town for the holiday weekend.

Of course, maybe Millie was telling the truth.

And if so, they were back to square one. In other words, they had lots of suspects and no concrete evidence to arrest any of them. In fact, one of them—Jonah—was doing his best to have Dylan and her arrested for Curtis’s murder.

She glanced over her shoulder and made sure Adam was okay. Her son was on the carpeted floor of the playroom with Ina. Thankfully, Ina had volunteered to help take care of Adam until things returned to normal.

Collena wondered if that would ever happen.

Adam and Collena had already played blocks and other games. In fact, Collena had gotten to spend some wonderful hours with her son without Ruth’s watchful eye over them. The only “low” moment had come when Adam had noticed Collena’s shoulder holster and gun. That was when Collena decided to put the weapon on the top of the armoire that housed the television. It was still within reach but out of Adam’s sight.

Collena checked the security monitors for the rest of the house, something she’d been doing all day. The two P.I.s were in the kitchen having dinner. She maneuvered the camera angle to the exterior—Dylan was in the stables with the vet. One of his prize mares was sick. He’d promised her he wouldn’t be long.

And then on the monitor, Collena saw a car approach the house.

She got ready to alert the P.I.s, but then she recognized that car and the driver. It was Sergeant Katelyn O’Malley, her old friend from SAPD. Katelyn had called her just an hour earlier to say she was on the way and that she was bringing homemade chili.

Katelyn was also bringing medical access codes that might help them find out whose prescription meds Millie had brought over. Even with the access codes, it was a long shot, but right now, the only shot they had since they couldn’t convince the sheriff to get a search warrant to get that pill bottle.

“I’ll be right back,” Collena told Ina. “I want my friend to meet Adam.”

Collena hurried down the hall and made it to the foyer just as the doorbell rang. She threw open the door and lowered her head against the blast of arctic air. Despite the cold, she greeted Katelyn with a smile. And with some confusion. Because the porch lights were out.

When had that happened?

The lights had been on when Katelyn drove up.

Katelyn didn’t return the smile. But one brief look at her friend’s face, and Collena knew something was terribly wrong.

And she soon realized what.

Someone was just to the side of the door, mere inches away from Katelyn. Collena caught a glimpse of the barrel of a handgun that’d been rigged with a silencer.

“Watch out!” Katelyn shouted.

That was the only warning Katelyn managed to give before the shadowy figure rammed the business end of a tiny six-inch stun gun against her neck.

Just like that, Katelyn collapsed into a limp heap on the porch.

And just like that, the figure stepped out and shoved the stun gun in his pocket. He grabbed Collena’s hair. With a fierce jerk that shot pain through her entire body, he dragged her out of the foyer and to the porch.

The adrenaline knifed through her. A hard jolt triggered the fight-or-flight mode. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do either because of the fierce grip her attacker had on her.

The moon was hidden beneath the thick night clouds and, with the porch lights out, it took Collena’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dark.

Then, she saw him.

Oh, God.

It was Rodney Harmon.

Even though it’d been sixteen months since he’d attacked her and tried to kill her in the Brighton delivery room, that was a face that she’d never forget. He’d found her, and he was going to try to kill her.

If she didn’t do something to stop him.

She fought her way through the initial panic and tried to figure out what she could do. She didn’t have her gun with her. It was on the armoire in the playroom, and that meant she had to try to use her own strength to try to prevent this from escalating. It wouldn’t be easy. Rodney was a hulk of a man.

There were hurried footsteps behind her. The P.I.s, she realized. They wouldn’t be able to see well because of the darkness, and if they did spot Rodney, they wouldn’t have an easy shot because they might hit her. Rodney must have realized it, too, because he calmly turned in their direction and fired.

Two shots fired from his gun rigged with a silencer.

She didn’t see the bullets hit the men, but she heard them fall. Mercy. Rodney might have killed them.

Collena struggled to get away from him, but Rodney already had the upper hand. He shoved his right hand and gun over her mouth, to muffle the scream she was about to let rip from her throat.

Rodney didn’t use the stun gun on her, but he did use his brute strength to maneuver her off the porch. Collena managed to ram her elbow into his stomach, but he was so heavily muscled there that the blow had little effect. It didn’t even slow him down. Rodney dragged her down the porch steps and headed toward Katelyn’s car, which he no doubt intended to use as an escape vehicle.

With her as his hostage.

Collena knew with absolute certainty what he intended to do once he had her away from the ranch.

“No one’s coming to help you,” he snarled with his mouth right against her ear. He stank of cheap whiskey and menthol cough drops.

He might be right. Maybe no one would help. With the P.I.s down, it was possible no one was monitoring the surveillance screens. And Dylan might not hear the struggle. So, she fought, trying to dig her heels into the frozen ground.

“Keep fighting me,” Rodney warned, “and I’ll go inside and get your kid. That should shut you up.”

The threat sparked a flood of horrible memories. Memories of Adam being stolen. Memories of Rodney nearly beating her to death.

For just a moment, the images paralyzed her, much as the physical beating had done the night she’d given birth at Brighton. Collena hadn’t immediately fought back that night, either. And those lost moments had nearly cost her everything.

That wouldn’t happen now.

She hadn’t just given birth. She wasn’t weak. And she wasn’t going to let this monster get anywhere near Dylan or her son. Not again.

When Rodney reached for the door handle of Katelyn’s car, Collena knew it was time to put a plan into motion. She dropped her weight so that her butt practically landed on the ground. In the process, she dragged Rodney down with her. It wasn’t enough force to make him fall, but it did throw him off balance a little.

It was just enough.

Collena used her fists to start battering away at him. Not one jab. But as many as she could manage.

Rodney loosened the smothering grip he had on her mouth and, for a moment, she thought he was going to try to turn the gun on her. But he didn’t. Instead, he merely lowered his arm and put her in a choke hold.

He tightened his grip. Squeezing hard. And it prevented her from breathing.

She gasped for air.

Felt her throat close.

Still, Collena didn’t give up. She couldn’t. She was literally fighting for her life and for Dylan and Adam’s lives, as well. Because if Rodney managed to kill her, then he might go after them.

She clawed at Rodney, but he was wearing a heavy coat and gloves and her fingernails weren’t able to dig into his flesh. With each frantic movement, Collena used more of what precious little breath she had left.

Once she was weakened from the struggle, Rodney shoved her into the passenger side of the car. With his chest still pressed hard against her back and his arm still around her throat, he tried to position the stun gun so he could hit her with it. Collena dodged it, barely, and kicked at him.

That’s when her shoulder brushed against something metal.

The keys that’d been left in the ignition.

Though she had to fight through the dizziness that was starting to overtake her, she grabbed the keys, practically ripping them from the ignition. In the same motion, she thrust them behind her.

Collena sliced the keys over his face.

He growled in pain and snapped her neck so hard she was afraid he’d broken it. Still, that didn’t stop her. Collena threw the keys over his shoulder, and she heard them land on the ground somewhere amid all that remaining snow. Hopefully, they’d fallen someplace where he couldn’t easily reach them. Somehow, she had to stop him from driving away with her, because he would take her to a secondary crime scene that he’d probably already prepared.

Rodney cursed her and lifted the stun gun again.

Collena caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Apparently, so did Rodney. Because he looked up to see Dylan running full speed toward the car.

Rodney lifted his gun and fired.

D
YLAN DOVE
to the ground just as the bullet slashed past his head.

Another half inch to the right and he would have been a dead man.

From the moment Dylan realized that something had gone wrong, he knew that it involved Rodney Harmon. That’s why he’d ordered Ina to stay with Adam and sprinted to the front of the house once he realized the P.I.s weren’t inside.

And his worst fears had been confirmed.

Rodney had Collena. The bastard had her. And from the looks of things, Rodney had already shot the P.I.s and incapacitated another woman on the porch. Collena’s cop friend, no doubt. She was moaning and trying to move. But Dylan couldn’t worry about her.

Right now, he had to save Collena.

Rodney Harmon reaimed his gun, and Dylan had no choice but to shift his position again. He scrambled toward the porch, got behind one of the massive marble columns that fronted the house and aimed his weapon at the man.

That didn’t stop Rodney. Instead of shooting at Dylan, or dodging Dylan’s shot, Rodney climbed into the car, crawling over Collena. Even in the darkness, Dylan could see the struggle. Collena was fighting like a wild woman.

And then she stopped.

She just stopped.

Collena fell limp onto the seat.

Dylan shouted, though he had no idea what he said. The rage and fear came tearing through him as if he’d been blasted with a hundred bullets.

Had Rodney shot Collena?

With the winter wind howling, he wouldn’t necessarily have heard the shot fired through the silencer. It would have blended in with the other sounds of the struggle.

A sickening sense of dread came with the rage and fear. Dylan wanted nothing more than to shoot at the SOB, but he couldn’t, because Rodney grabbed hold of Collena and pulled her in front of him like a shield.

“Come closer, and you both die,” Rodney warned.

Collena still didn’t move, but Rodney had her in such a choke hold that Dylan figured he might have strangled her unconscious. At least he prayed that’s what had happened. Collena couldn’t be dead. And she didn’t appear to be bleeding.

Still using her as cover, Rodney dragged her several feet from the car. He stooped and began to feel around the yard. He was looking for something. But what? Dylan couldn’t take the chance that he might find it. And he couldn’t waste any more time, either.

Collena and her cop friend needed medical attention.

Dylan watched Rodney and tried to calculate the best time to make his move. Anything he did could be dangerous for both Collena and him, but doing nothing was equally dangerous.

When Rodney looked down at the ground, Dylan knew it was time. He sprang from his position and, while trying to keep his gun ready, Dylan charged the man. Rodney looked up, cursed and tried to take another shot at Dylan.

But Dylan got to him first.

Hoping that he didn’t hurt Collena any more than she already was, Dylan launched himself at Rodney, and all three of them went down to the frozen ground.

Dylan tried to move Collena out of the way, but she was totally unconscious. Her deadweight was to his advantage because Rodney was beneath her and unable to maneuver his gun so that he could shoot.

Moving fast, Dylan shifted to the side and dragged Rodney with him. Rodney outsized him by a good forty pounds, but Dylan had something that Rodney didn’t—the overwhelming need to protect Collena.

Dylan drew back his fist and slammed it into the man’s jaw. Rodney’s head fell back, and he didn’t try to put his hands up to defend himself. In the back of Dylan’s mind, he realized that wasn’t good.

But he realized it just a second too late.

Dylan felt the jolt. As if a million tiny needles had been shot into his body.

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