Chapter 16
16
A rcher picked up another piece of red cloth, convinced Annalee was leading him right toward her.
Up ahead, the crack of a bullet split the air.
Panic formed a knot in his chest as he bolted toward the sound. Thighs burning, arms pumping, he saw red on the ground ahead.
Taking a knee, he reached down and touched the red liquid. Blood. Shit.
Archer stood up and looked around.
With no more pieces of red material to guide him, he had to pick a direction and hope for the best.
The blood. Could he follow droplets?
Like a hound tracking a scent, he scanned the ground for any sign of telltale red droplets. The thought of Annalee being shot was enough to short-circuit his brain, causing the knot in his chest to tighten until he could scarcely breathe.
“Which way?” he mumbled as he took a few more steps, searching for any sign that he was moving in the right direction.
The scrub brush was thicker in this area. Gray clouds had rolled in overhead, once again threatening a storm. A couple of droplets fell. They could wash away the trail.
One shot had been fired. Had it been a warning shot gone wrong? Or had Annalee run? What about Becca? Owen said without a doubt the woman was involved. At the very least, she was an accomplice. At the worst…
He didn’t want to think Becca was capable of a felony, not to mention the fact it had been committed against his family. He’d been nothing but nice to her. Had shown her the utmost respect when he’d been dating her daughter.
Could Becca turn on him?
Owen could have been killed. Beau was now lying unconscious in the woods. He had no idea the names of all the crimes being committed here, but abduction was a serious offense. Two people were involved, a man and a woman.
Damned if he could understand people. The Becca he’d known wouldn’t have willingly put her daughter in harm’s way. She wouldn’t have turned on him and his family. She wouldn’t have targeted him, and for what? Money?
Was she that desperate?
Archer changed directions when he couldn’t find another drop of blood. Droplets of rain began pelting his forehead, threatening to wipe out any trail.
Anger burned through him like an out-of-control forest fire, threatening everything in its path.
The worst part of this situation was the thought of never seeing Annalee again. Of never talking to her again. Of never looking into those amazing blue eyes of hers again. Because in the hours they’d been together, he’d felt like the world had finally righted itself. He’d felt like he might want a future with a wife and kids. He’d felt like Saddle Junction could actually be a place where he could build a life with her by his side.
Dammit.
A red puddle ahead gave him hope he’d made the right correction. He sprinted to it, then took a knee beside it.
Yes. He was headed in the right direction again.
Up to now, he’d been reactionary. Archer stopped long enough to get his bearings as to where he was. The farm road couldn’t be more than a ten-minute walk from here if he was at the spot where he believed he was. Somewhere along the road, there had to be a vehicle parked. It would be off the road, using the trees as cover.
If memory served, there was a lake nearby on the opposite side of the road. It would be a good place to keep a vehicle. No passersby would think twice about someone stopping off to go fishing, especially in rainy conditions like these. In fact, it would be good fishing weather.
Could he run like hell and beat the trio to the vehicle? Hide near it, and then spring a surprise?
He had to try.
Archer made another course correction so that he would run in a loop that would eventually take him to the lake area.
A person wouldn’t have to know this area to find the lake. The spot could have been picked on the fly using the map feature on a phone. Again, his thoughts returned to Becca and the fact she was involved. Not just involved, but one of the team.
The first question he’d ask when he finally saw her face-to-face would be, why? Why target his family, especially after all these years? Had that been the plan all along? Had the “evidence” been a distraction? Something to cause Annalee to panic and head toward Saddle Junction? How would Becca know that Annalee would come here?
This entire plan had been orchestrated to make Becca appear to be in trouble. Caught. Why go through such an elaborate scheme? Why not just show up and attempt to kidnap Archer for ransom without involving Annalee?
He didn’t like the answer that came to mind. That Becca would pull these stunts so that her daughter wouldn’t call the law. So that Becca could split the profits with her daughter, never the wiser that her own mother had set her up.
Again, he wondered what the hell Becca had turned into in order to participate in such a scheme. Desperation caused folks to do awful things. Beaumont hadn’t been desperate. He’d chosen to be an abuser. His back had never been against the wall.
When someone shows you who they are, believe them. It was a lesson Archer had learned early in life. His mother had been a survivor, even if it had meant sacrificing her children to a horrible man. Archer didn’t have quite the same compassion that Kade showed for their mother. He was still hurt by her actions, by her lack of effort to get in touch with him before she’d passed. He hadn’t even known when his own mother had died. It wasn’t until years after that he’d finally learned she was gone. No memorial service. No funeral. No way to finally say goodbye.
Archer set those random thoughts aside as he pushed his legs until his thighs burned. He was putting all his eggs in one basket, following his instincts.
A snap. Intense pain. A chain rattled.
Archer faceplanted.
His brain tried to process what had just happened as he scrambled onto all fours. Jagged metal had clamped around his left ankle, cutting into his skin.
A trap?
He spun around to sit on his backside, aware the bastard was getting away. Becca was getting away. And they were taking Annalee with them.
The trap had been set for coyotes, but there was no reason to have one out here. It was new and shiny. Meaning the suspect had likely set a few in case he needed a quick getaway. It was easy enough to purchase one of these at any hardware store.
Archer placed a hand on each side of the trap and pulled with all his strength. He opened the jaws enough to pull his foot out before letting go. The damn thing snapped closed a heartbeat later.
He immediately pushed up to standing and tested the foot. The ankle hurt like the dickens but he could walk. Cool, wet blood dripped down his ankle. His sock was already slick with it.
The foot would hold but he couldn’t run nearly as fast now, which frustrated him to no end.
The suspect had been here long enough to realize he might need a way to stop the law from following him. Or Archer. Becca had to know that Archer would move heaven and earth to locate his brother. The fact she would know how close Archer and his twin were, and she could still target one of them, galled him.
When he saw her again, he’d offer a few choice words for the woman before making sure she paid for her crimes.
Annalee might hate him for the rest of his life for ensuring the DA threw the book at her mother. As much as he hated the thought, he had no choice.
Becca was going down.
Annalee stopped. A clearing was ahead. A farm road. If she kept going, Russ would stuff her in the trunk of a vehicle or some awful thing like that, along with Becca. Her mother had called a halt to the scheme she’d hatched with Russ, but he wasn’t giving an inch. In fact, he seemed to view Becca as the enemy at this point. Could Annalee use this to her advantage?
Annalee sat down. “I need a break.”
“Get up, bitch,” came the low growl.
“Shoot me like you did my mother, and you’ll be locked away for life,” she argued.
“You can rest in the car,” he said, kicking her in the back.
“No, Russ,” Becca said. The bullet had grazed her shoulder. She was bleeding despite Russ letting them stop long enough to wrap a makeshift bandage around it using his undershirt. “Stop it. Let her rest. Please.”
The sound of an engine came from the road ahead.
Could she make a mad dash? Yell for help?
What if the vehicle didn’t stop? What if Russ shot her or her mother as punishment for what he would see as a stunt?
Russ watched through the trees as a truck slowly approached.
“Fine,” he conceded. “Take a break. But don’t get too comfortable. The car isn’t far and we need to get the hell out of here.”
Annalee needed to stall for time. “Is that your best idea?”
He spit, the gunk landed next to her foot. “No one asked you, smart ass.”
“Russ, don’t talk to her like that,” Becca whined, holding onto her shoulder as she winced in pain.
Annalee shrugged. “I’m just thinking the surest way to get caught is to get out on the roads right now.” She picked at pretend lint on her shirt, acting like it was no skin off her nose what he chose to do.
“She makes a good point,” Becca said.
“She’s trying to get us caught is what she’s doing.” His face muscles tensed. She was planting seeds of doubt.
“You’re right if you think I don’t care what happens to you.” Annalee seized the opportunity. “However, I love my mother, and I don’t want her to end up in jail for your stupidity.”
If she could get her mother alone, she might be able to talk some sense into the woman. These men she chose were akin to cult leaders when it came to a relationship with Becca. The woman lost all sense of individuality once they got their claws in her. It was awful to sit by and watch it happen.
Annelee never in a million years imagined something this horrific could happen. How could her mother hatch a plot against the Sturgess family?
Had she no conscience left?
Annalee wanted to throttle her mother and hug her in equal measure. There were going to be consequences this time. Consequences that were bigger than Becca’s credit card being maxed out. Consequences that were bigger than a man emptying out Becca’s bank account. Consequences that Annalee couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.
She issued a sharp sigh.
Mother, what have you gotten yourself into?
Annalee wished their relationship was enough, but she’d given up on that hope by her early teens.
Speaking of relationships… Her mind shifted to Archer. Would she ever see him again? Because the thought of dying in these woods only made her realize how much she’d missed him.
If she survived, could she talk to him about her feelings? Could she open up and risk falling in love again?
A laugh almost slipped past her lips. Risk falling in love?
She was already hook, line, and sinker in love with the man. Always had been. And probably always would be.
Would he be able to open up and risk it all one more time? Would there always be a piece of him that couldn’t trust her?
They could try, right?
Or was that just wishful thinking on her part? Because if he couldn’t trust her, there would always be a piece of him that was unavailable to her. They would never regain what they’d had when they were barely more than kids. How wild was it that she’d found the love of her life at seventeen?
She’d made the mistake of a seventeen-year-old, too. Walking out of his life was the one do-over she wished for in life. Youth had caused her to make the biggest mistake of her life and damage her future.
And what had it all been for?
She’d been scared out of her wits by the way she’d felt for Archer, the depth of those feelings, like she wouldn’t be able to breathe again if he walked away. Those feelings scared her now, too. Maturity and life lessons—those were the things that would allow her to overcome those fears. Realizing how special their relationship had been would carry her through the rough patches when old habits caused her to want to bolt.
She had enough life experiences to realize what they had didn’t come around but once, maybe twice, in a lifetime if you were lucky.
Russ kicked her again, this time on the outside of her right thigh. She barely flinched, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt her. There’d be a bruise the size of a baseball once this was over. She’d deal with that later.
If there was a later.