Lock, Stock and McCullen (The Heroes of Horseshoe Creek Book 1) Read online

  “Yes. Sheriff McCullen is looking for him.” She clutched Trina’s hand. “But listen, this is just between us.”

  “How can I help?” Trina asked.

  “Just watch out for him or anyone else suspicious,” Maddox said. “If you see him or hear from him, call me. And don’t let him in your home or the store.”

  Trina threw an arm around Rose. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. Just find the son of a bitch.”

  Maddox grinned at her moxie. Rose might think she was alone, but obviously Trina cared about her. And having another pair of eyes watching out for Rose couldn’t hurt.

  Although if Thad knew Rose cared about Trina, he might use her to get to Rose.

  * * *

  SHAME FILLED ROSE as Maddox left. Trina was looking at her with such pity that she hated for her coworker to know the truth.

  When Trina had first come to work for her, she’d been reluctant to get close to the young woman.

  Although Trina had asked a lot of questions, too— questions about where Rose came from, what inspired her to delve into the antiques business, where she’d attended school, even what her favorite foods were and if she had allergies. Just chitchat, girls getting to know each other, Trina had said.

  But Rose had held back, unable to trust. Trina’s questions had felt intrusive, too personal, as if Trina was looking for a best friend.

  Something Rose had never had.

  Uncomfortable, she’d erected her usual walls and avoided personal topics and get-togethers. No dinners or drinks after work. No morning jogs or coffee on the weekends. All business, no play.

  Old habits were hard to break.

  And then she’d let Thad worm his way beyond her defenses...

  What a mistake.

  “You want to talk about it, Rose?” Trina asked.

  Rose shook her head. “Not yet. I...have to figure out some things first. But...my parents were killed yesterday, so I’ll need some time off in the next week or so to make the arrangements.”

  Trina ran her hand through her spiked hair, fluffing her bangs, a nervous gesture Rose had noticed when she’d first met her and Trina applied for the job. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  The words stuck in Rose’s throat. They were murdered in cold blood. “Like I said, I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I’m still in shock.”

  “Then go home, Rose, take time. I can handle the customers today.”

  Rose looked around the store. She felt more comfortable, more at home here than anywhere else. “I really need to keep busy today,” Rose said. “To take my mind off the situation for a little while. I thought I’d research some of my mother’s music boxes.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Rose gave Trina a hug. “Just bear with me and be ready to fill in when I need to be gone.”

  Trina nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

  Rose thanked her, then carried her phone to the computer in her office to research the music boxes, grateful Trina hadn’t pushed her for more information.

  How could she tell her about her past and her family when she wasn’t sure she knew anything about them herself?

  * * *

  ANXIETY KNOTTED MADDOX’S shoulders as he left Pistol Whip and drove toward the warehouse district ten miles outside of town where Baxter suggested they meet. He hadn’t received a call back from the Marshals Service, but an early morning text from Baxter expressed concern about being followed. He didn’t want to endanger Rose by leading a killer to her door.

  The area was deserted, three vacant buildings sitting on empty lots that had been built two years ago for companies relocating to the area, moves that never happened. The town had been optimistic about another company moving into the buildings and boosting the economy, but so far no one had committed.

  Senses alert, Maddox kept his eyes peeled as he turned into the vacant parking lot. He checked his watch.

  Baxter was late.

  His phone buzzed. Hoberman. He punched Connect.

  “Thought I’d give you an update,” Hoberman began. “We didn’t find a safety deposit box key at the Worthingtons or any indication that the couple had stashed away stolen money. We hit a wall with the prints as well.”

  If the couple had been in WITSEC, the marshals would have covered their tracks and eliminated their prints from the system. “I’m meeting with a US Marshal now,” Maddox said. “Maybe he can fill in the holes.”

  Nerves on edge, he disconnected, climbed from the car and walked across the parking lot, then decided to take a look inside the warehouse in case something had happened to Baxter.

  The lock on the first warehouse had been broken, so he eased open the door, but a sound broke the silence. A ticking...

  Maddox’s heart jumped to his throat. He released the door and started to run.

  But the bomb exploded, metal flying and pelting him as the impact hurled him through the air to the ground.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rose emailed the photos of the music boxes to her computer, then started with the first one and began a search for the origin.

  The antique music box turned out to be one with a bisque doll with flowers from the nineteenth century that played Mozart.

  The history of the sale showed that it had been authenticated through a reputable antiques auction house. She followed the story of how it had been passed along through two generations of families, then wound up being found in a storage bin, which eventually ended up being sold because no one had claimed the contents.

  The tinkle of the bell in the front indicated a customer, then footsteps sounded. Tired from her restless night, she decided to stay put in the office and let Trina handle it. She didn’t feel like having to be social today.

  She plugged in the picture of the second music box, an antique portable sewing machine, and waited while her program ran its course. This one dated pre-1900s.

  Trina’s voice echoed from the front, then her heels clicked on the wood floor. “Yes, wait.”

  A man’s voice came through the wall, low and ominous. Rose froze, her heart clenching.

  Dear God...Thad?

  No, it couldn’t be.

  She jumped up and peered through the door, shock immobilizing her as his face appeared in front of her.

  Thad with a gun to Trina’s head.

  “You thought you could get away, but you thought wrong, Rose.”

  With one hand, he shoved Trina into the office. She stumbled and fell, crying out as her head hit the corner of the desk. Rose reached down to help her, but Thad jerked her arm and dragged her toward the back door.

  * * *

  MADDOX SLOWLY ROUSED from unconsciousness, his ears ringing, the world a hazy blur of smoke, crackling wood and metal. He was so disoriented he lifted his head to look around, his lungs straining for a breath. Flames shot into the sky and burning rubble was scattered everywhere.

  His eyes stung, and his mind was muddled as he recalled the last moments before the explosion. He’d been waiting on Baxter to show, but the marshal was late, so he’d climbed out to look around. He’d opened the warehouse door, which was unlocked, and...boom.

  The impact had sent him flying through the air, and now he was lying in the dirt, trapped.

  He cursed again as reality hit him. It had been a setup.

  The man who’d called and said his name was Marshal Baxter was lying about either who he was or what his intentions were. He’d asked him to come here to...

  Dammit. To lure him away from Rose.

  Adrenaline kicked in, and he tried to move, but his leg was pinned beneath a big piece of metal. Heat from the fire scalded his skin, the smoke acrid and thick as it curled upward through the air.

  He had to get out of here. The bastard had ambushed him and now he might have Rose.

  If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

  No...surely she was safe. She was in town with her friend at work. Not a place where an attacker mi
ght strike.

  Unless he found a way to lure her away, as he’d done to him.

  Calling himself an idiot, he threw loose debris aside and rolled his upper body enough to shove at the damn metal on his leg, but it wouldn’t budge. Pain ricocheted up his thigh, but he gritted his teeth and tried again. He held his breath and pushed as hard as he could, but it still didn’t move.

  He needed help, dammit.

  He slid his hand down to reach inside his pocket for his cell phone, but realized he’d left it in the car. Hell. What now?

  Heart racing, he shifted to his other elbow, searching for something to help him free himself. A long board lay less than a few feet away, pieces of it splintered and burning.

  He stretched his left hand out to grab it and connected with the end. It was hot to the touch, and he nearly scalded his fingers, but he blew at them, yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his hand to pad his fingers, then clawed at the board again. He missed and his fingers dug in the dirt the first time, but on the second try he snagged the plank and dragged it toward him, beating the flames in the dirt until they were extinguished.

  Clenching his jaw at the pain, he shifted again, then wedged the board beneath the metal, sucked in a breath and used it to push at the metal. One, two, three tries and it finally gave an inch.

  Using all the strength he possessed, he shoved it again, at the same time dragging himself forward. His effort paid off, and he managed to roll out of the way just before he lost his grip on the stick, and the metal slab fell to the ground.

  Images of Thoreau or some other crazed maniac putting a gun to Rose’s head and killing her in cold blood, as had been done to her parents, sent another shot of adrenaline through him, and he pushed himself up and tried to run toward the car.

  His leg gave way, though, his thigh throbbing. Hell, he didn’t have time to be weak. He snatched another board and used it like a crutch, hobbling until he reached his police car.

  Wiping sweat from the back of his hand with his sleeve, he slid inside and started the engine while he punched in Rose’s number.

  He had to warn her that he’d walked into a trap.

  But her phone rang a half dozen times, and she didn’t answer. He left a voice mail, then dialed the number for the shop, but the voice mail kicked in there as well.

  Pure panic fueled him, and he pressed the accelerator and roared toward town, his tires squealing.

  * * *

  ROSE FOUGHT TERROR at the cold look in Thad’s eyes. “Thad, think about this. The sheriff knows you tried to kill me. He’s looking for you.”

  Thad waved the gun in her face. “You made a big mistake when you shot me, Rose.”

  “I can’t believe you survived. How?” Rose cried. “Where have you been?”

  “Lying low.” He rubbed at his chest. “It’s a good thing I had a friend to dig out that bullet and stitch me up.”

  Rose glanced at Trina, her pulse pounding. Trina rolled to her back, but blood trickled down her forehead where she’d hit the table.

  “Please, let’s go somewhere and talk. Trina has nothing to do with this, just let her go.”

  Thad barked a nasty laugh. “You don’t get it, Rose. Trina helped me find you.”

  A sense of betrayal stung Rose, and she snapped her head toward her friend. Or the young woman she’d thought was her friend.

  Trina wiped at the blood on her forehead, her eyes luminous with emotions. “It wasn’t like that, Rose...”

  “Shut up.” Thad walked over and slapped Trina across the face. “You’ve done your part. I don’t need you anymore.”

  Trina cried out and pressed a hand to her cheek, tears streaming down her face. “You never said you were going to hurt her.”

  Shockwaves rolled through Rose. So it was true—Trina hadn’t been her friend. She’d used her.

  “I don’t understand,” Rose said, her voice warbling as she stared at Trina. “What’s going on?”

  “I...I’m so sorry,” Trina whispered.

  Rose whirled on Thad, her hands on her hips. “Why were you looking for me? What did I do to you?”

  Another sinister look. “Nothing. This is just business.”

  “Just business?” Rose cried. “It’s my life. Why do you want me dead?”

  Thad shoved her backward against the door, but Rose lifted her chin. If she was going to die, she deserved to know the reason. “Who hired you, Thad?”

  “You’ll never know.” Thad raised the gun, but suddenly Trina lurched up and jumped him from behind.

  “You bastard, you lied to me.” She grabbed his arm, struggling for the gun, but Thad elbowed her in the chest and aimed the weapon at her. Trina fought back though, the two of them battling for control and wrestling with the weapon.

  The gun went off, and Rose screamed as Trina groaned and fell backward, blood gushing from her abdomen.

  Rose raced over to her. Trina might have betrayed her, but she’d just tried to save her life.

  She couldn’t let her die.

  * * *

  MADDOX ROUNDED THE CORNER on two wheels, his heart hammering as he called his deputy and explained about the warehouse explosion. “I’m on my way to Rose’s antiques shop. I think she’s in danger. Where are you now?”

  “Out at the Stanley farm on a domestic. Gave the old man a warning.”

  Maddox had hoped Whitefeather was in town and could get to Rose, but he was closer to town than his deputy. “Meet the crime team at the warehouse and make sure they process it thoroughly.”

  “Copy that,” his deputy said. “I’m on my way.”

  Maddox scanned the parking on the street in front of the antiques shop, and noticed a dark gray sedan. His pulse jumped as he threw the police car into a parking space, jumped out and jogged to the door.

  He paused to look through the front glass, but noted that the shades were drawn. The Open sign had been flipped to Closed.

  The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something was definitely wrong. If Rose was hurt, it was his fault. He’d taken the bastard’s bait and walked into a trap, leaving her alone and unprotected.

  He jiggled the doorknob, but it was locked. Jaw clenched, he pulled his weapon, checking to make sure no one was on the street and no children were close by.

  A couple of mothers pushed their babies in strollers in the park in the center of the town. Another lady and her daughter ducked into Boot Barn, and an older couple entered the coffee shop. The general store looked busy, retirees gathering to play checkers on the whiskey barrels in front of the country store.

  He inched around the side of the antiques store toward the back entrance, but just as he rounded the corner, the door opened and Rose stepped out. She looked shaken and upset, her body rigid.

  Thoreau stood behind her, a .38 pressed into her back.

  Maddox aimed his Colt at the man’s head. “Stop, Thoreau. Let her go.”

  Rose’s eyes widened as she met his gaze, but Thoreau yanked her in front of him to use her as a shield. “Take one step and she’s dead.”

  Pain and fear wrenched Rose’s face. “Maddox, do what he says. Trina...she needs help. She’s been shot.”

  Maddox cursed. Hell, Thoreau planned to kill her anyway. But Maddox couldn’t be the reason, so he played along and lifted his hands in surrender. “All right, just stay calm, Thoreau. We can work this out.”

  Thoreau’s gaze didn’t waver. “The only way this is going to work is for you to let me go.”

  “Then go, but leave Rose. You can get away faster without her.”

  Thoreau gave a firm shake of his head, an ominous harshness in his eyes. “I’ve come too far to stop now.”

  Maddox tightened his fingers around his weapon, but he didn’t make a move toward Thoreau. The man’s gun was way too close to Rose’s back. If the SOB panicked, he might shoot her.

  Thoreau shoved Rose toward a back street, where Maddox spotted a black SUV with dark tinted windows. Obviously his getaway veh
icle.

  “Help Trina!” Rose shouted.

  Maddox stood stone-still, rage tightening every muscle in his body. Rose stumbled, and he instinctively reached out to catch her, but Thoreau gave him a warning look, and he backed away. Seconds later, Thoreau shoved Rose inside the front seat on the passenger side, then forced her to slide over to the driver’s seat.

  Fear for Rose vibrated in every cell of his body. He had to follow them.

  But Rose wanted him to save her friend.

  Anger crowded his throat as he raced inside. Trina was lying on the floor, ashen-faced and bleeding. He stooped and felt her pulse, and she opened her eyes, although they looked weak and glassy.

  “He has Rose,” she said in a choked whisper.

  Maddox called 911. “I know. She wanted me to save you.”

  A sob escaped Trina. “I’m okay, go after her. He’ll kill her!”

  “This is Sheriff McCullen,” Maddox said to the 911 operator. “A woman has been shot at Vintage Treasures. Send an ambulance ASAP and alert the hospital that she needs surgery.”

  He hung up, then ran to find a cloth to press against her wound. He found some cleaning rags in the bathroom, rolled them up and pressed them to her injury.

  Trina laid her hand over them as he tried to stop the bleeding. “Go, Sheriff. You have to save Rose.”

  Maddox was torn, but the ambulance was on its way and she was right. He rushed to his car and barreled away.

  If he didn’t catch Thoreau and stop him, he would lose Rose.

  * * *

  ROSE SWALLOWED HER TERROR as she drove from the parking lot. She needed to stay calm. Keep Thad talking... “Where are we going?”

  Thad waved the gun at her. “Just drive out of town.”

  “Where? To some isolated place where you can kill me and leave my body like you planned to do at that cabin?”

  “Yes. But you had to screw things up.”

  Rose couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d romanced her with dinner and wine and dreams of a future together.

  He gestured toward a dirt road that led west toward the mountain ridges.

  Rose drove slowly, hoping to stall. Maybe Maddox would come after her, maybe he’d find a way to save her once he got help for Trina.