Delores Fossen - Lone Wolf Lawman

“Does the alarm cover all the windows and doors?” Weston asked.

She nodded. “But it won’t go off if the glass breaks. Only if a window is actually lifted.”

That was better than nothing.

Weston took Addie back to her office. Not ideal since there was a big window, but all the rooms on the bottom floor had them.

“Jericho’s on the way,” Iris informed them the moment they returned. “An ambulance, too. I called Teddy again and told him to hold on.”

Maybe holding on would be enough and an ambulance could get to the ranch hand before he bled out. Of course, Jericho likely wouldn’t let the ambulance onto the grounds unless he was certain it was safe for the medics.

And with a killer out there, it was far from safe.

“Get down,” Weston reminded Addie when she hurried to a cabinet in the corner, where she took down a gun off the top shelf.

Good. He hated that she had to be armed, hated she was terrified to the point of shaking, but without backup, Weston wanted all the help he could get.

With his gun ready, he hurried to the window, staying to the side but still putting himself in a position so he could look out and keep watch. Weston lifted one of the blind slats, bracing himself for the worst. His heart nearly jumped from his chest when the lights flared on.

He cursed.

And it took him a second to realize it wasn’t the glare of something from the killer. It was Christmas lights. Hundreds of them. They were strung out across the barns, shrubs, porch and fences, and they winked on and off, the little blasts of color slicing through the darkness.

“They’re on a timer,” Addie said. That’s when he realized she had lifted her head and was looking out, as well. He motioned for her to get back down. “You want me to turn them off?”

“No.”

They actually helped by lighting up the grounds, and it would make it harder for the killer to use the darkness to hide. Weston hoped. This wasn’t the Moonlight Strangler’s first rodeo, and he’d likely already cased the ranch to find the safest path for him to launch an attack.

Too bad there were plenty of places to do just that.

“Why is this monster doing this now, after all this time?” Iris asked.

While Addie filled her in on what they knew, Weston kept watch and took out his phone to call Cliff Romero, a former cop and one of the friends he’d positioned around the grounds surrounding the Crockett ranch.

“What went wrong?” Weston asked the moment Cliff answered.

“We’re not sure. He didn’t get past Dave and me.”

Dave Roper. The other former cop out there. Both men had been armed with thermal equipment that should have detected anyone or anything with a pulse.

And that could mean only one thing.

That the killer had already been on the ranch grounds, maybe waiting in the shed for nightfall. He was also likely wearing some kind of clothing that would make it hard for the equipment to detect him.

“Hell,” Weston said under his breath.

“My thoughts exactly. Dave and I are moving closer, hoping to pick up his trail. Make sure we’re not hit with friendly fire.”

“I’ll try.” He hung up and glanced back at Addie again. “Text Jericho and let him know there are two PIs headed in the direction of the house.”

She did. But that didn’t mean Dave and Cliff were safe. He only hoped the pair caught up with the killer before he could inflict more harm.

“Maybe he’ll just leave if he knows we’re onto him,” Iris whispered.

Yeah, he probably would, and it was tempting to shout out something or fire a warning shot. But if Weston did that, it wouldn’t end the threat. It would only postpone an attack to another place, another time. One when Weston might have a lesser chance of protecting Addie.

“Do you see him?” Addie asked.

Weston shook his head and tried to think of something reassuring to say. He failed. Addie no doubt saw the worry on his face and in his body language. And he was indeed worried. Even if the killer didn’t attack, all of this stress couldn’t be good for Addie and the baby.

The moments crawled by. Turning into minutes. Still no sign of the Moonlight Strangler. No sign of his friends or Jericho, either.

But Weston sensed something.

Exactly what, he wasn’t sure, but he felt the knot tighten in his gut. Felt that warning slide down his spine. A warning that’d saved his butt a time or two. And that’s why he ducked back from the window.

Not a second too soon.

The bullet crashed through the glass in the exact spot where Weston had just been standing.

He’d braced himself for an attack, of course, but Weston doubted anyone could brace themselves for the roaring blast from the shot and the instant surge of adrenaline through their body.

“Stay down!” he warned Addie and her mother. He hoped the ranch hands were doing the same thing.

A second shot came. Then another.

Both went through what was left of the window and slammed into the wall behind him. They also helped him pinpoint the location of the shooter. All three shots had come from the area around the barn nearest the house.

The killer was way too close.

Not as close as he’d been when he had murdered Collette and left Weston for dead, but it was the first time Weston had been in a position to get a glimpse of him since that fateful night.

The rage roared through him. Not a good mix with the adrenaline and other things he was feeling, but Weston refused to let this snake go after anyone else. Especially Addie.

“Are there any ranch hands in the barn out there?” Weston tipped his head in that direction.

“There shouldn’t be,” Addie answered.

Good. That’d be fewer targets for this idiot to try to kill. And the man was definitely trying to kill them. Weston had no doubts about that as even more bullets crashed through the window.

It was always unnerving to have shots fired, but it didn’t help that knot in his stomach when the killer stopped shooting.

Did that mean he was on the move?

Probably. Because it was too much to hope that he’d run out of ammunition.

Weston ducked and hurried to the other side of the window. It was a better vantage point if the shooter was headed to the back of the house, but Weston still didn’t see anything.

Not at first anyway.

Finally, the Christmas lights flickered over a shadowy spot by one of the trucks parked between the house and the barn. Yeah, someone was definitely there.

Weston took aim and fired.

And he got confirmation of the guy’s location when he saw him scramble behind the truck. He also got another confirmation he’d been waiting for—the sound of sirens from a police cruiser. Jericho, no doubt.

But Weston obviously wasn’t the only one who knew that backup was about to arrive. He saw the shooter dart out from the back of the truck. And the man took off running.

Hell.

Weston didn’t want this monster to get away, and that’s exactly what would happen if he waited for Jericho. It’d be a minute or more before Addie’s brother could stop the cruiser and get into place.

A minute the killer would use to escape.

It was a risk. A huge one. Anything Weston did at this point would be.

He fired a glance at Addie. “Text Jericho and tell him where you are. Then stay down and shoot anyone who tries to come in through this window.” He also tossed her his phone. “Text the first contact in there and let him know I’m out of the house.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished. “You can’t go out there,” Addie insisted.

“I can’t let him get away,” he insisted right back. He knocked out the rest of the shards of glass from the window.

Weston wished he had the time to convince her that this was the only way, but he didn’t. With Jericho so close now, he’d be able to protect Addie and their mother. But just in case the killer doubled back and tried to come through the window, Weston kept watch around him.