Terri Reed - Guardian

Alicia whipped her gaze to the chief. She had no intention of staying here any longer than she absolutely needed to. “That’s not necessary. The killer is most likely long gone.” At least she prayed so.

“We can’t take that risk. He might come after you since he knows you’ve seen his face,” Leo stated in a firm voice.

“But I’ve already talked to the police, so what good would coming after me do?”

“He could eliminate you as a witness.”

Leo’s dire words sent fear cascading down her spine. She’d had that same thought earlier in the woods, but had dismissed it as paranoia. But realizing that the FBI agent and the police chief both thought she was still in danger had her heart pounding. Better to be safe than sorry, as the saying went. “All right. Agent Gallagher, you may follow us home.”

And she’d send him on his way once they were safely back at the ranch.

* * *

Leo kept the SUV a couple of car lengths from the tailgate of Alicia Duncan’s little all-wheel-drive sport vehicle as they headed away from the police station. The kid had fallen asleep in his mother’s arms. Leo had to admit the little boy was very cute. And so was Alicia. He liked her spunk. She may not have wanted an escort home, but she was smart enough to realize that she was still in danger.

It was slow going through town due to congestion. Cars and people were out as evening was setting in. The turn-of-the-century architecture gave the place a quaint feel though he’d noticed a new hospital complex on the way in. Settler’s Valley was nestled in the shadow of the Blackthorn Mountains, and the Blackthorn River flowed down the middle of town.

Several bridges connected the two sides, some for pedestrians, and others for vehicles. Alicia turned off the main drag, traveling away from the river and town. They cruised at fifty miles an hour on a flat stretch of asphalt that had fenced pastureland on either side of the two-lane road.

Having never been to Wyoming before, Leo took in the countryside. It was similar to nearby Montana, but there were distinct differences, too. Like the huge, brown bison walking along the side of the road. True barked at the creatures as they passed by five or six of them.

The terrain became more wooded the longer they drove. They passed several turnoffs marked by mailboxes. Gravel driveways led to far-off ranches that could barely be seen. What would it be like to reside so far from civilization?

Leo had lived and worked on a ranch in Kansas as a teen, but it hadn’t been that far from town. He’d been able to ride his bike back and forth to school and later college. Those had been the hardest and the best years of his life. If not for the ranch foreman, Ben Smith, Leo’s life would have followed a different path. A less productive one.

After a series of foster homes, he’d run away from the last one at age fourteen. He’d lived on the streets for two years before landing in Andale, Kansas, on the outskirts of Wichita. Population, nine hundred.

In a back alley behind a diner, Ben had found him scrounging through the garbage looking for something to eat. Ben had dragged him to the Crescent Ranch, where he put Leo to work mucking out stalls in exchange for food and board. Ben had been the one to insist Leo enroll in the local high school. And later to apply for college and scholarship money.

Leo’s gaze snagged on a dark-colored muscle car with tinted windows waiting at the end of a driveway. Not exactly the type of vehicle one would expect to see coming from a ranch. Leo figured a teenager was probably at the wheel. No adult male would purposely put such a sweet ride through the torture of a gravel drive.

As Alicia’s car approached the driveway, the muscle car’s headlights came on and its engine revved, the rumble unmistakable despite the fact Leo’s windows were rolled up. True reacted to the rumble with a series of frantic barks.

The nerves in Leo’s gut constricted. He pressed the accelerator, forcing the SUV to gain on Alicia’s smaller one. He was right on her tail.

“Brace yourself,” Leo called to the dog. Thankfully, the compartment housing True was compact and padded for the dog’s safety.

Alicia’s car crossed directly in front of the driveway. The muscle car’s tires spun and gravel flew as the vehicle charged forward, the driver’s intention clear. He was about to ram into her. Leo stomped on the gas and swerved around Alicia, putting his SUV between her and the muscle car. Leo tensed, bracing for impact.

The driver of the other vehicle jammed on his brakes, barely missing Leo’s SUV, as Leo and Alicia zipped past him.

Slowing to allow Alicia to pull in front of him again, Leo twisted the wheel, bringing the SUV into a 180-degree spin so that he now faced the assailant’s car. He hit the dash lights that set off the unmistakable police strobe. The muscle car peeled out, sending a tail of gravel flying through the air, and sped toward town. Leo hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, torn between wanting to give chase and the need to protect Alicia and her son.

Decision made, he made another, slower U-turn and caught up to Alicia. He used the vehicle’s Bluetooth to call Chief Jarrett and reported the incident. Unfortunately, it had been too dark to make out the car’s license plate.

“I’ll have patrol officers searching for the car and driver. Keep Alicia and Charlie safe, Agent Gallagher,” Jarrett instructed with worry in his tone.

“Count on it.” Leo hung up and followed Alicia when she turned off onto a long gravel drive that led past rolling grass pastures populated with horses. A solid-looking log-and-brick house sat at the end of the drive, along with two other outbuildings and a large barn.

He drew the SUV to a halt beside Alicia’s smaller vehicle. She sat there not moving. Concern arced through him. He quickly got out and released True. The dog took a second to assess the area before racing off to a patch of grass.

Leo opened the driver’s side door of Alicia’s car. Her fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel and her breathing was shallow. Her long, wavy dark hair created a veil that blocked her face from his view. He touched her shoulder. “Alicia, it’s okay. You’re home. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She leaned her head back against the headrest. “If you hadn’t been with us...”

“But I was,” he said gently. He held out his hand. “Let’s get Charlie inside.”

She peeled her fingers from the steering wheel and took Leo’s hand. Her skin was soft but cold as she curled her fingers around his. “Can you get him?”

He swallowed back the terror the request sent spiraling through him. Two decades had passed since he’d last held a child in his arms. The last one had been his little sister the day she died. Guilt clawed up his throat. He took a shuddering breath and opened the back passenger door.

After releasing the buckle on Charlie’s car seat, he cautiously lifted the sleeping boy into his arms, careful to keep the child’s leg from catching on the holstered gun at his waist, and held him close to his chest with one arm. His heart hurt but he pushed through the pain to wrap his free arm around Alicia to help her toward the front door. True trotted over and stayed at his side.

The front door opened before they could climb the four stairs to the porch. True growled and positioned himself in front of Leo.

A grizzled man with gray hair, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt, jeans and cowboy boots, stood there with a shotgun in his gnarled hands. No doubt Harmon Howard, Alicia’s father.

Leo stiffened. He’d been an agent long enough to recognize the protective gleam in the man’s eyes, and he knew better than to make any sudden moves or the situation could get out of hand fast.