Moving_Violations (16 page)

“What’d we do, Officer? I was under the speed limit,” he said, reaching for his wallet.

“I noticed you were weaving quite a bit…” A muffled cry had Rebecca stopping mid-sentence. She tilted her head to the side and raised a hand for the driver to keep quiet. “What was that?”

The driver looked up at her with wide eyes, his lips stretched into a tight smile.

“What?”

Again she heard a whimper coming from the back of the camper. The sound was one of distress, fear. Was that a baby? It had the tiny hairs on the back of Rebecca’s neck standing on end. There was definitely something going on. She turned to the driver in 80

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time to see his passive expression turn into a pinched, hateful snarl of a man desperate for escape. Rebecca had no time to react. The man swung open the car door, smashing the metal window frame against the side of her head.

White light exploded in her brain and she stumbled back. The camper wheels spewed dust and gravel as they sped away. Rebecca got up as fast as she could and ran back to the cruiser. Her head hurt and her stomach roiled as she jumped in and took off after the camper.

“Hey, hey, we’re getting in over our heads here.” Bryan watched Rebecca with wide eyes.

“Call for back up,” Rebecca bit out. She blinked twice, the winding road in front her stopped undulating but it didn’t help that it kept on curving up and around, as though it had been carved through the mountain by a snake.

“Rebecca, turn around. I got the tags; we’ll go back to the station and report it. Let

‘em go!” His voice was thin. His eyes darted from the road to Rebecca.

“Call it in, Bryan, we need back up.” Rebecca’s eyes narrowed as she struggled to keep the road in front of her in focus.

“No, no, we don’t know what we’re dealing with here, back off, Rebecca. It’s too dangerous,” he pleaded with her.

The tires squealed in protest as Rebecca made the next curve a little too sharp.

Bryan sucked in his breath and grabbed the dashboard. “You don’t know these roads, Rebecca. Pull over, and let me drive.”

She clenched her teeth. “I thought you said this road takes us back to town.”

“It does if you turn around at Melvin’s Food and Gas back there.” His voice was thin and a bit high-pitched.

“Shit, we need back up, call for back up. Where does this road take us?” She sped up and clenched her teeth against the pain clawing at her brain.

“Eventually into the Allegany Mountains of Virginia.” He sounded panicky now.

“Shit! Call for back up, Bryan!” She yelled.

“Rebecca, you probably have a concussion, we can’t, we…” Bryan turned in his seat, trying to convince her.

With one hand on the wheel, Rebecca grabbed Bryan by his shirt and yanked him closer. Her voice was low and menacing. “Officer Matthews, either call for fucking back up or I’m slowing down and shoving you out! Do you understand me?“

Bryan cursed under his breath and buckled his seatbelt tighter as he grabbed the radio mic.

Rebecca concentrated on her driving. Thankfully, her eyesight was steady and sharp again, although the siren only intensified the pain throbbing in her head. She heard Bryan’s uneasy voice as he spoke with the dispatcher but his words didn’t register. She kept her eyes focused on the curve of the road and the vehicle ahead. The camper shimmied and swayed all over the road. So far there had been little to no traffic.

But, there was a child back there. Was he kidnapped? Was he hurt? How could she back down? She just had to stay with them until her back up showed.

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She saw the glint of the sun on the barrel of the rifle just in time. “Shit! DUCK!” she screamed and pushed Bryan down in the seat just as a bullet punched through the windshield over Bryan’s head.

“Stop! Stop now, Rebecca!” Bryan pleaded with her frantically.

“Just stay the fuck down!” Rebecca was pissed now—no, past pissed, she was livid.

No way would she let the bastard go now. Bryan just barely missed catching the bullet with his face. She pushed the thought aside; she’d deal with that later. She had to catch these assholes. Bryan was speaking frantically into the mic again. She slammed her foot down on the accelerator and yelled in rage as a bullet hit her radiator.

“Rebecca!” Jackson’s voice was clear and strong and it was the first time he’d said her name correctly. She grimaced, surprised that she didn’t like it. “Back up is on its way. Can you maintain pursuit?”

She snatched the mic from a wide-eyed Bryan. “Affirmative, Sheriff. Too close to back off now. I think there’s a minor involved,” she replied, strangely calm even though she could feel her heart in her throat. The danger was very real, her career was on the line but so was the life of a child.

There was a pause before the radio crackled again. “Don’t get headstrong and careless, Becca. Keep a safe distance.”

A bullet shattered her side view mirror with a loud metallic ping. “No, sir, we can’t lose them. I’m staying on them until I get back up.”

If she let them escape they may never find them again. She’d been on the force long enough to know that, and Jackson knew it too. Grotesque scenes of what they might do with the child kept playing over and over in her mind, scenes of molestation, mutilation.

She couldn’t let them go, she couldn’t.

“Dammit, Officer Taylor, was that gunfire? I heard gunfire.” Jackson’s growl crackled from the speaker.

She didn’t have time to argue. “Just get me my back up, Sheriff.” Gritting her teeth against the need to heave, she dropped the mic. Bryan picked up the mic and started to sit up. “No, Bryan, stay down. Just stay down, one less target.”

Panic rose in her and clawed at her throat as she leaned into the steering wheel.

White billows of steam were pouring out from under the hood and the car was loosing momentum. She could barely see through the web of cracks in her windshield and bullets still popped and pinged against her cruiser. God, she didn’t want to lose them. It sounded like an explosion and for a moment she thought they’d go up in flames before she realized her right wheel tire was shot out. She braked slowly but the car was going too fast. It shook hard and bore to the right. She swerved, fighting for control, but lost the battle when the tire hit the soft shoulder. The scream sounded like it came from far away as the car bucked and flipped.

* * * * *

She didn’t know how long it had been. She heard the sirens in the distance, the static of the radio and fuzzy voices. Pain seared through her head but she opened her eyes. “Bryan…hey, Bryan, you okay?”

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Just turning her head had sickening spasms of pain pounding inside her skull.

Bryan lay motionless. She had lost the child, the baby. They got away and Bryan was dead. He had to be dead. “Bryan,” she cried out, fighting the darkness that threatened to envelope her again.

“Becca.” She felt hands on her face, Jackson’s hands, his voice. He was saying something she couldn’t understand. “Stay with me, sugar.”

Why would he say that? Confusion fogged her mind. She tried to look at him but the light sent shards of pain spearing through her head. “Jackson? The baby…” She felt herself fading back, darkness closing her off.

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Chapter Seventeen

“God. Becca.” Adrenaline and fury surged through Jackson as Becca collapsed in his arms, her last thought that of the child she had been unable to rescue.

He was terrified to move her from the vehicle, and could do nothing but check to make certain none of her injuries were life threatening as he heard the ambulance sirens in the background.

“Roby, check Bryan,” he ordered as he watched the other office move around the front of the vehicle.

He barely caught the other man’s expression of distaste. Jackson watched the officer carefully then, a surge of hated suspicion running through his gut. The other officer did as he ordered, though, checking Bryan’s condition quickly.

“Gunshot wound to the shoulder, looks like a broken arm to go with it and he’s out cold. He’ll live.” There was little sympathy in the other man’s voice.

“Get Martin. You two get the hell out of here and see if you can find that truck. The State Troopers can assist me here.”

“Troopers?” Roby jerked alert then. “Hell, Jackson, since when do we want Troopers in our business?”

“Since we have two officers down and the bastards got away.” Jackson gave the other man a fierce, level stare. “Now get to it or you and Martin both can take a leave of absence while I find someone willing to follow orders.”

Roby’s lips tightened. Carefully, as though he were more than aware that Jackson was just looking for an excuse to tear him apart, he moved away from Bryan.

“This is a mistake, Sheriff,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing on Jackson.

“Then it’s my mistake, isn’t it? Now get the hell out of here.” He moved away from Becca carefully as though preparing to back up the order with action if need be.

Roby’s fists clenched, he shook his head with a short, rough movement then stalked away. Jackson moved back as the paramedics rushed to the car, but he kept his eyes on Roby and Martin. After a brief, furious discussion, the two men moved quickly to their vehicle and headed away.

Jackson jerked his cell phone from his hip, watching the paramedics closely as they helped Becca and then Bryan from the wrecked car. He hit speed dial, then waited impatiently as the phone rang.

“What do you need?” Jacob’s voice came across the line, quiet and controlled.

“You heard?” Jackson knew the other man kept a police scanner on hand, and there was no way in hell to block him from transmissions.

“I heard.” There was a low throb of anger in the other man’s voice.

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Jackson knew if there were two things Jacob hated, then it was flesh runners and drug runners, and from all appearances, the ones operating in Jericho were more dangerous than most.

“Check your end, but don’t get into trouble. They were headed that way. I sent Roby and Martin out after them, so be on guard.”

Jacob grunted sarcastically. He was a man of few words when the situation warranted it.

“Keep your cell on hand,” he finally growled. “I’ll be back with you later.”

“You do that,” Jackson bit out. “And watch your ass. I don’t have time to haul you out of trouble.”

He disconnected the line as two State Troopers roared into the area, sirens blasting.

A tight, cold smile shaped his lips as he identified the offers. Ted had come through for him. Jackson may be short on loyal deputies, but by God, Ted had just pulled two of the meanest damned Troopers to ever ride a Tennessee highway in to help him after his earlier phone call. His brother-in-law evidently wasn’t taking any chances. These men were Troopers with a grudge, and the power to back up any investigation they undertook. Sandor Kylie and Gray Jensen.

He caught Sandor’s gaze immediately. Tall, controlled, his hawkish look immediately taking in the scene. A brief nod was all the answer he needed. Assuming expressions of arrogant intent, the two officers strolled his way. Let the games begin, Jackson thought as the paramedics loaded Becca and Bryan into the ambulance, because it was about to get hot.

“Sheriff Montgomery.” Sandor tipped his hat back on his head, and surveyed the scene with predatory interest.

He was as tall as Jackson, lean and muscular, with a square jaw line, and piercing hazel eyes. He had once been more laid back and easy going than he was now, but circumstances had changed that over the years.

Jackson was aware of the interested gazes of several off-duty deputies who had arrived to help with the scene. Men the mayor had hired. Men Jackson didn’t trust, and he knew full well that his uncle hadn’t trusted them.

“We got a line on your tags, and your boys,” Kylie told him quietly as they moved along the end of the wrecked cruiser to assure privacy. “Truck was stolen ‘bout two weeks ago. The witness described Jasper Michaels, a small time illegals dealer, as the thief. Jasper was seen not long before that with Wago Darney, an illegals flesh peddler of the worse sort. If you’ve tagged him and your officer saw him, then you best watch her ass. Wago doesn’t like witnesses of any kind.”

Jackson’s jaw clenched. This was getting deeper than he could have ever suspected.

* * * * *

Bryan had sustained a concussion, broken arm and collarbone, and a wound to his right shoulder from the bullets fired from the vehicle they had been chasing. Rebecca had a concussion, sprained muscles, and a minor laceration to her forehead. Both officers had been surprisingly lucky, which only pissed Jackson off further. The bastards in that truck had meant to kill them both.

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He paced outside Rebecca’s hospital room the next day as she dressed. The doctor had released her, but had stipulated that she be off work for at least a week. With Bryan still hospitalized, Jackson was realizing that he was now surrounded by whatever conspiracy Mayor Whittaker and Todd Lawrence were involved in. It didn’t help a damned bit to know that he should have suspected it before Rebecca’s presence on the force.

“I’m ready.” Rebecca walked from her room, dressed in the soft gray sweat pants he had brought, and a loose, light gray T-shirt. She looked tired and worried, and he didn’t blame her. “Were you able to get anything on that vehicle?”

He tossed her a sideways glance. “You are on leave, Rebecca. No business for you for the next week.”

Jackson took her arm as they walked to the elevators at the end of the hall.

“Jackson, I can’t just lay around for a week…”

“Like hell you can’t.” He almost winced at the controlled violence in his voice.

Dammit to hell, he could have lost her. He almost shuddered at the thought. He was doing better, though; he had trembled for hours the night before as he waited to see how seriously she was injured.

“Jackson, you weren’t the one who heard that child cry out,” Rebecca bit out as they entered the elevator and Jackson hit the down button. “I was. That was a child in pain, and I won’t just forget about it.”