Confiscated Conception. Delores Fossen

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      It was probably Detective Smith doing a routine check of the grounds, but if he saw them, there’d be nothing routine about his reaction.

      Jared turned, facing her, and he went back to picking the lock. She saw the intense focus in his eyes. Felt his breath brush against her cheek. Felt the heat of his body.

      But she also felt his shoulder holster, and his weapon.

      That didn’t do much to steady her heart. Thank God he hadn’t drawn it, but he probably would if that was the only way they could get out of there.

      The footsteps suddenly stopped. She’d seen Smith do a check of grounds dozens of times and knew he was thorough. He’d no doubt be coming around the side of the garage very soon. Too soon. She and Jared needed to get inside, or Smith would certainly see them.

      The lock finally gave way, and Jared pushed her inside and quickly followed. There were two cars parked in the dark, cramped space. He opened the door on the one nearest them and retrieved the remote for the garage.

      “Come on,” Jared whispered. But he didn’t use the remote. He opened the side door again and peered out.

      “Rachel?” she heard Detective Miller call out, the sound coming through the open window of her bedroom. But it wasn’t the only sound. The officer soon began to pound on the door. “Open up. I want to make sure you’re all right in there.”

      Jared glanced over his shoulder at her and put his finger to his mouth in a stay-quiet gesture. He led her out of the garage, staying behind the shrubs, and they made it to the side of the house. Only then did he lean back around the corner and press the button on the remote opener.

      The noise started almost immediately as the metal door began to lift. Jared didn’t waste any time. He tossed down the remote, latched onto her and got her moving toward the front of the house where he’d parked.

      Smith shouted something to Miller, and a second later, Rachel heard the back door slam. The diversion had worked.

      Well, maybe.

      Once the officers verified that both of their vehicles were in the garage, they’d start looking elsewhere.

      Jared opened the door on the driver side of his car and pushed her through to the passenger seat. He peeled off his jacket, tossing it on the seat. Probably so he’d have better access to his shoulder holster.

      Not a comforting thought.

      The key was already in the ignition, and he wasted no time starting it.

      Rachel caught a glimpse of Miller and Smith as they raced around the side of the house toward them. Both had their weapons drawn and ready. That didn’t deter Jared.

      “Get down, Rachel,” he ordered.

      He gunned the engine and headed for the road.

      Chapter Two

      Jared shot past Miller and Smith and sped along the gravel road in front of the house. His best chance was to make it to the highway and try to outrun the two cops. And maybe, just maybe, those Texas Rangers at the checkpoint wouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later.

      Of course, escape from the safe house was just the first hurdle. He didn’t want to speculate how many hurdles they had ahead of them after that.

      Or what those hurdles might be.

      Even some serious detective work and a fair amount luck might not be enough to help them find the child—and stay ahead of danger.

      “Are they following us?” Rachel asked.

      Jared glanced in the side and rearview mirrors. “Not yet.”

      But he quickly had to amend that. The moment the words left his mouth, he saw the dark gray car barrel out of the garage, coming right after them.

      “They’re behind us,” he said. “Stay down. The tires are bullet resistant, but they might try to shoot them out anyway.”

      “Oh God.” She mumbled another curse under her breath. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

      He was asking himself the same thing. Jared tried not to think beyond saving this child that might be theirs. But even if they managed to get the baby out of harm’s way and put Esterman behind bars, there would be consequences.

      Huge ones.

      After all, he was essentially kidnapping his soon-to-be ex-wife so he could obstruct justice. The department certainly wasn’t going to see that in a favorable light, no matter how good his intentions. When this was over, he’d have some serious explaining to do.

      Jared kept his eyes on the zigzagging road and spotted the Rangers’ checkpoint station just ahead. Both men were there. Waiting. The detectives must have alerted them, because the Rangers had angled their car to create a roadblock.

      Without slowing down, Jared veered around them, using every inch of the grassy shoulder, and raced past the checkpoint. As he’d figured they would do, the Rangers jumped into their vehicle and followed in pursuit. They wouldn’t just give up and let him leave the area with Rachel.

      “What now?” she asked.

      She lifted her head and looked out the side mirror. Jared pushed her right back down. If the officers tried to shoot out the tires and missed, he didn’t want Rachel to become the victim of “friendly” fire.

      Rachel didn’t exactly cooperate. The minute his hand was off her shoulder, she slipped right back up in the seat and pinned her gaze to the mirror, and their pursuers. From her soft gasp, she obviously knew things weren’t going well.

      He took the next curve, and the other cars made the turn along with him. And worse. Jared saw the detectives drop back so the Rangers could overtake them. One of the Rangers leaned out of the window and aimed his weapon at the tires.

      Hell.

      Jared pushed Rachel down in the seat again. He definitely didn’t want her to get a good look at that rifle. With her fear of firearms, she might have a panic attack. There wasn’t time for that.

      He didn’t slow down. Jared kept the pressure on the accelerator and snaked over both lanes so the tires wouldn’t be such easy targets. Unfortunately, that didn’t protect them from a quick jab of Murphy’s Law.

      “Hang on,” Jared warned.

      At seemingly a snail’s pace, an old beat-up truck hauling a flatbed of hay pulled out from a side road and directly into their path. He managed to swerve around it. Barely. The car jerked to the right when he clipped the ditch. Jared corrected and then corrected again so he wouldn’t broadside a tree.

      He heard the sound of metal scraping and buckling and saw the cause of that noise in his rearview mirror. The Rangers and detectives hadn’t been so lucky in avoiding an accident.

      They’d sideswiped each other to avoid the truck, and the impact had sent both cars careering into a waist-high ditch. Everyone looked unharmed, but their vehicles were temporarily out of commission. СКАЧАТЬ