One Night Standoff (11 page)

“Come on,” Clayton finally said. “Stay low and behind me. I need to get to the back of the house so I can try to pinpoint this gunman.”

“You have an extra weapon?” she asked.

“I don’t want you shooting. I don’t want you anywhere near the line of fire.” But even after issuing that warning, he rifled through the bottom desk drawer and came up with another semiautomatic.

The moment the gun was in her hand, Clayton got them moving. Thankfully, the stairs were at the front of the house, away from those bullets that continued to come at them.

The timing of the shots was odd. Spaced out five to six seconds. Hardly a barrage, but maybe the gunman hoped to get a lucky shot by firing randomly into the house. He could also be saving ammo. That didn’t put her at ease any, because it meant he could prolong the attack.

There was a powder room just off the entry, and Clayton threw open the door and got her inside. Probably because it had a limestone floor and no exterior walls or windows. It was no doubt one of the safest places in the house. Unlike Kirby’s room. Even though she hadn’t been inside it, she knew it was on the back corner of the building.

Right where the gunman was firing.

“It shouldn’t take my brothers long to get here,” Clayton said, and he gave her what was probably meant to be a reassuring glance. It didn’t work, because Lenora saw the concern all over his face.

Clayton didn’t waste any time. He started running, and Lenora picked through the gunfire and the other noises in the house so she could listen to his footsteps. It didn’t take long before she could no longer hear them, but she did hear Stella’s frantic voice.

God, she hoped that Kirby hadn’t been shot. Or worse. It sickened her enough to know that this monster was after Clayton and her, but she didn’t want his foster father pulled into the middle of this.

More footsteps.

Clayton was probably moving them to a safer location. The footsteps weren’t far away from her when Lenora heard and felt the loud blast.

Another shot.

But this one hadn’t come from the back of the house. This bullet had torn through the front door. That sent her already-racing heart beating even faster. Because they weren’t just dealing with one shooter, but with two.

At least.

Heaven knew how many of them were out there, waiting to kill them.

Clayton threw open the powder room door and practically pushed Kirby, Stella and the nurse inside. There wasn’t a drop of color in Kirby’s face, and the two women looked terrified. This couldn’t be good for Kirby’s already-fragile health, and she hoped it didn’t cause a setback. Clayton was already dealing with enough guilt over these attacks, and he’d never forgive himself if Kirby got hurt.

It was a tight fit when all four of them piled into the small room, but since Lenora was the only one of them armed, she worked her way to the doorway so she could try to protect them if the gunmen got into the house. It wasn’t something Clayton would want her to do, but they didn’t have a choice.

Lenora nearly caught Clayton by the arm when he started toward the front door. Right where the second shooter had targeted. But the sound caused him to go to a standstill.

Sirens.

Lots of them.

His brothers were on the grounds, and while it didn’t mean they were safe, she liked their odds better now they had some serious backup.

Just like that, the shots stopped. However, Clayton didn’t. He hurried to the front door and looked out. Lenora couldn’t see what immediately caught his attention, but she clearly heard his profanity.

“Stay put,” Clayton warned all of them.

“You can’t go out there,” Lenora warned him right back.

“I can’t let him get away.”

Clayton spared her a glance from over his shoulder, and she saw the warning repeated in his expression. He didn’t want her trying to help, and even though that was exactly what she wanted to do, Lenora had to concede that someone needed to stay inside with the others. At least until Clayton’s brothers managed to make their way to the house.

Clayton barreled onto the porch, slamming the door behind him, and she heard him start running. She also heard something else.

A shot.

Probably not Clayton’s, either, because this one sounded farther away from the house than he probably was. That meant someone could have shot at him. She couldn’t quite choke back the fear that slammed through her.

Mercy, how had things come to this?

“Clayton’s gonna get killed,” Kirby mumbled. “Give me that gun so I can help.”

The man could barely stand, so Lenora doubted he could get off a decent shot. But she could. “I’ve had training,” she said to him. “And I’ve saved Clayton before.”

Of course, it was possible she’d created the danger that required him to be saved in the diner, but that was guilt she’d have to deal with another time. For now, she needed to focus on the gunfight going on just on the other side of the front door.

Staying low, Lenora scrambled across the entry and levered herself up slightly so she could look out one of the sidelight windows. She wasn’t sure what she would see, but she immediately spotted Clayton.

Just as he threw himself to the side of his truck.

It wasn’t a second too soon, because a bullet slammed into the side of the vehicle.

That put her heart in her throat, and she’d never felt more helpless in her life.

The shooter darted out of the line of fire, too, and landed behind a tree. He was a white male, mid-thirties, wearing dark clothes. Lenora tried to commit everything about him to memory in case the guy got away.

He was armed with what appeared to be a Glock long-range pistol. Definitely not an amateur’s weapon. She was almost positive he was one of the same men who’d attacked the church.

A dozen bad possibilities went through her mind, and she replayed both shootings, especially the one at the diner. More than anything she wanted to help Clayton, but she couldn’t risk going out there. After all, there was a second gunman, and if he made his way into the house, Kirby, Stella and the nurse were sitting ducks.

So Lenora prayed. Waited. Watched.

Clayton levered himself up from the ground, and in the same motion, he took aim. So did the gunman, who moved out from the cover of the tree.

Both men fired.

She couldn’t tell who got off a shot first, but Lenora soon saw the results. Their attacker crumpled into a heap on the ground.

Lenora didn’t release the breath she’d been holding, didn’t stop praying. Until Clayton got to his feet. He was all right, thank God. The gunman had missed him.

“The other one took off,” Cutter shouted. “He’s already hightailed it over the fence.”

Clayton looked around and spotted Dallas and Wyatt hurrying on foot toward them. “Go after him,” he instructed his brothers.

He didn’t follow the two. Instead, Clayton ran to the fallen man and touched his fingers to his neck.

“We need to get him to the hospital now,” she heard him tell Cutter. “I want to keep him alive so he can tell us why the hell this just happened.”

Chapter Twelve

While he paced in the marshals’ office, Clayton went through his mental checklist and made sure he’d done everything to keep everyone safe.

Well, as safe as he could.

Considering Kirby was refusing to leave the ranch, that meant even his best measures still weren’t very safe. Clayton had tried and failed multiple times to convince his foster father to go to the hospital, so that meant formulating a backup plan.

Step one was to beef up security. Arm the ranch hands and have them keep watch to make sure another intruder didn’t make it onto the grounds. He’d also need all the suspects questioned again. Information was the key to finding out who was behind these attacks.

The second part of the plan wasn’t nearly as easy, because it involved finding the gunman who’d escaped. So far, there hadn’t even been a sighting for them to follow. Still, they’d keep looking and might get lucky. Might get lucky, too, with the wounded gunman, who was still in surgery. If he made it out alive, and that was a big
if,
Clayton would be able to question him and maybe get answers about who was behind these attempts to kill Lenora and him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lenora asked him—again.

“Yeah,” Clayton answered again.

Lenora had echoed the same response each of the times he’d put that particular question to her, and he was thinking it was a lie for both of them.

It was true—she hadn’t been physically hurt—but the adrenaline and stress of being under fire couldn’t be good for her or the baby. That was why he’d insisted she have a physical, and even though the doctor had given her the okay, it was on Clayton’s mental list to figure out a way to make things better for her.

“You could delay this interview,” Lenora reminded him.

He could, but it would just put off the inevitable. Clayton didn’t especially want to see Melvin. He’d written the man out of his life a long time ago. Seeing him would no doubt bring back memories that no longer mattered in the grand scheme of things. But what Melvin’s impending arrival had done was force Clayton to bring Lenora out into the open.

Despite all the beefed-up security, Clayton hadn’t wanted to leave her at the ranch, even though Dallas had offered to keep an eye on her. He trusted Dallas with his life, but Dallas’s hands were full, since Kirby, Stella, the nurse and the housekeeper were all there at the house.

And besides, Clayton wasn’t sure that Lenora wouldn’t try to run.

She had that look in her eyes—the fear that she was somehow putting him in even more danger by staying nearby. But Clayton figured this visit with Melvin could dispel that notion. Because if Melvin was the person behind the attacks, then Clayton himself, not Lenora, was the primary target.

He’d been careful on the drive from the ranch to the Marshals building, and had made sure they weren’t followed, but that didn’t mean she was safe even though they were surrounded by lawmen. Maybe she wasn’t safe anywhere.

“Cheer up,” his brother Declan said. “Maybe Melvin will resist coming in and the lieutenant will have to arrest him or something.”

“Maybe,” Clayton mumbled, though he didn’t want that happening with Lenora around.

Declan was at his desk, working. Or rather, appearing to work while keeping watch for Melvin’s arrival. Wyatt and Harlan were doing the same. Clayton, too, was at his desk trying to get through the mountain of paperwork that had been piling up in his absence, but it was hard to work with his mind flying in a dozen different directions.

“Showtime,” Harlan announced. “Lt. Ryland just pulled into the parking lot.”

And that meant the wait was finally over. For him, anyway. Clayton turned to Lenora, who was seated in the chair next to his desk.

“I know,” she said before he could speak. “You don’t want me to take any unnecessary chances.”

“I don’t even want you in the same room with him,” Clayton insisted.

He didn’t give her a chance to argue. Clayton led her to the observation room, where she’d be able to watch but Melvin wouldn’t be able to see her. Clayton’s boss, Saul Warner, was already in the interview room, working on some paperwork while he waited for Melvin to arrive. Clayton had offered to do the interview solo, but his boss had nixed that.

Probably a good thing, too.

Hard to be objective with a man he hated, and objectivity was something sorely needed in this investigation.

Thankfully, Clayton had found a few bits of info that Saul might be able to use in the interview. The problem was none of those bits in themselves would lead to Melvin’s arrest. They needed a confession, and barring that, they needed more evidence. Still, this interview was a start.

“Afraid I’ll punch Melvin if I get close enough to him?” Lenora joked.

Clayton appreciated her attempt to keep this light. Appreciated it even more when she idly brushed a kiss on his cheek. But then she froze and pulled back, as if she’d realized what she’d done. This wasn’t a steamy kiss like the one in his office, but it was yet another reminder they were becoming too comfortable with each other.

If their situation had been different, that would be a good thing. But when Clayton looked at her now, all he needed to see and remember was the danger.

He shut the door and turned just as a dark-haired guy in a white shirt and jeans walked in with Melvin. Lt. Ryland, no doubt. Melvin wasn’t cuffed, but the lieutenant had a firm grip on his arm. Ryland looked around the room and spotted Harlan, who took them toward the interview room.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Melvin said, his attention zooming straight to Clayton.

Clayton cursed the knot that tightened his stomach. Cursed even more the cobweb of images this man had left in his mind. He couldn’t remember his night of sex with Lenora, but he could recall in complete detail that Melvin had made his life a living hell.

It’d been years since Clayton had seen him, and those years had not been kind to him. He was still on the beefy side, but his hair was iron-gray now, and he had enough wrinkles that it was well past the stage of calling them character lines. Melvin Larson looked every bit of his fifty-six years and then some.

“He’s all yours,” the lieutenant said.

“Looks as if he
cooperated,
” Clayton mumbled.

“Yeah,” Ryland verified, and he sounded disappointed, too. Maybe Harlan had told him all about Clayton’s prize of a father. “But I’ll have to wash my car to get rid of the slime of snake oil he left behind. Hope you can take him down a notch or two. Better yet, arrest him for something.
Anything.
”

Clayton managed a smile, thanked Lt. Ryland and went into the interview room.

“Melvin Larson,” Saul greeted before Melvin had even taken a seat. “I’m Marshal Saul Warner, and you’re about to answer some questions.” Saul didn’t leave any room for doubt about that. It certainly wasn’t an invitation.

“I’d be glad to.” Melvin didn’t just sit. He lounged in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and tucking his hands behind the back of his neck.

Clayton blew out a long breath. He hadn’t forgotten how cocky the man was, but that was a stark reminder. So was his sheer size. When he was a kid, Clayton had been on the receiving end of Melvin’s fists, and even though that size didn’t intimidate him now, he recalled Quentin’s accusation—that Riggs had used Melvin as hired muscle. That was exactly the kind of job Clayton could imagine Melvin taking.

And enjoying.

“Always willing to lend a helping hand to the law,” Melvin added.

Saul, clearly not impressed with Melvin’s offer, gave him a flat look from over the top of his reading glasses. “I understand from Clayton here that you’ve been named as a person of interest in an attempted-murder investigation. Not just one attempt, either, but rather several of them.”

“Me?” Melvin drew that out a few syllables. “Must be mistaken. I’m a respected businessman. I import piñatas, serapes, leather belts and the occasional piece of silver jewelry.” He showed them his turquoise-and-coral-studded watch.

“I’ll make sure SAPD checks those piñatas for drugs,” Clayton said.

That caused some of Melvin’s cockiness to dissolve. “Always was an ungrateful son.”

“Always was a dirtbag of a father,” Clayton fired back.

Melvin shrugged. “Probably because I never wanted to be one.” He looked at Saul when he talked. “His cheap tramp of a mother ran out on us when he was five. Did my best to raise him right, but you know being saddled with a kid just wasn’t my idea of a good life.”

“But selling piñatas is.” Saul didn’t wait for an answer to that smart-mouthed comeback. “So, tell me, Mr. Larson, what’s your association with Adam Riggs?”

“Former association,” Melvin instantly corrected. If he was surprised by the question, he certainly didn’t show it.

“Your association,”
Saul corrected right back, and he handed Melvin the paper that Clayton had given Saul earlier. “It took a little digging, but according to this, the money you used to open your business was funded through an offshore account owned by none other than Adam Riggs.”

Now there was a reaction. Melvin shot Clayton a glare that could have chipped solid stone.

He glared back at Melvin. “So what’s your association with Riggs?” Clayton repeated.

“He’s a minor investor in my business, that’s all.” And he dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

Clayton and Saul both mumbled some profanity, because they weren’t dismissing anything. “One more lie and I’m going to throw your sorry, lying butt in a jail cell,” Saul warned him. “And to make things fun, I’ll give Clayton the flippin’ keys while I take a long dinner break.”

Melvin’s glare got worse. “All right.” No more lounging. He sat up in the chair and pulled back his shoulders. “Riggs loaned me the entire amount for my import business, and in addition to the money I give him to repay the loan, he gets thirty percent of the net profits.”

That meshed with what Clayton had learned. It was a pricey loan, because along with the thirty percent, Melvin was paying interest on the loan itself. Over half his profits were going to Riggs. Of course, a man with Melvin’s history likely wouldn’t have been able to get a conventional loan, so Riggs might have been his only option.

Clayton went closer, put his hands flat on the table and leaned in. A clear violation of Melvin’s personal space. “So what kind of deal did you make with Riggs—that in exchange for killing me, he’d cancel your debts?”

“No.” Melvin volleyed glances at both of them, and maybe for the first time he realized this was serious. “No,” he repeated.

“Come on, are you saying you don’t want me dead?” Clayton pressed, staring at the man.

Melvin didn’t break the stare. “Well, I didn’t think so much about it until I came in here and you started accusing me of things I’m not doing. So yeah, maybe now I’m thinking about it, but I didn’t do anything to make it happen.”

“Does that mean you’re not Riggs’s hired hit man?” Saul pressed.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t play hired gun for anybody. Riggs included. And I’m also thinking it’s time for a lawyer. Hell’s bells.” Melvin added some much-worse profanity. “I didn’t know I’d come in here and get accused of attempted murder.”

Melvin seemed genuine enough about that, but Clayton didn’t believe the man was innocent in all of this.

“I’m calling a lawyer,” Melvin insisted and took out his phone.

Saul gave Clayton a look that he needed no words to interpret. This interview was over until Melvin’s attorney arrived. However, before Melvin could make the call, Clayton heard voices in the hall, and he threw open the door to make sure something hadn’t happened to Lenora.

She was there in the doorway of the observation room, but she wasn’t alone. James was with her, and Harlan and Lt. Ryland were right behind the agent.

“What are you doing here?” Clayton asked James. He also stepped out so he could move in front of Lenora. He didn’t think James was stupid enough to try to pull something in a marshals’ office, but he wasn’t willing to take that chance. However, James no longer had his attention on Lenora.

It was on Melvin.

“Is
he
a suspect in the shootings?” James immediately asked.

“He’s a person of interest,” Clayton clarified. That was the official answer, but the truth was yeah, he was a suspect. “You know him?”

“I know of him.” James spared him a glance. “He’s your father.”

Lenora groaned. “Please don’t tell us he’s a criminal informant, too.”

“No. But he is someone that the task force investigated along with Riggs. We didn’t find enough evidence to arrest him, and he wasn’t trustworthy enough for us to use him in the sting operation that got us Riggs.”

Clayton hadn’t expected to be informed of any and all federal investigations, but it riled him that he hadn’t been told of this one. Especially since Melvin could be a hired assassin.

Clayton studied the body language of both men. James had on his lawman’s face. All business, all cop. But sweat popped out on Melvin’s face.

“I’m leaving,” Melvin announced. “You want to keep me here, arrest me. Then I can sue you for harassment.”

Clayton glanced at his boss, but Saul only shook his head. “We investigate and build a case if there is one. Then we make the arrest.” He turned back to Melvin. “Don’t leave the state, because I’ll be bringing your butt right back in here as soon as we have something,” he added.

Clayton wished he could stop Melvin from storming out of the room, but the irony was, the law was on Melvin’s side.

Melvin stopped right in front of James. “You’d better watch this one, Clayton.”

“What does that mean?” James demanded before Clayton could ask first.

But Melvin only gave that laid-back smile. Except this time, it didn’t look so laid-back. Melvin was spooked or something.

“You need a ride?” Lt. Ryland asked Melvin.

Melvin shot them all dirty looks. “No, I’ll find my own way back. I’ve had my fill of all of you badges.”

James watched Melvin leave and mumbled something that Clayton didn’t catch. “I’ll send over anything we have on him,” James offered. “It won’t be much, though, and certainly not enough to make an arrest. Still, it might be useful.”