other ranch hands, too, so they’ll get inside and take cover. I also want you to stay away from the windows.”
He wasn’t sure the Moonlight Strangler was into shooting bystanders, but Weston didn’t want to take any chances. Not with Iris. Not with Addie. Especially since she was pregnant with his child.
Later, he’d need to settle that with Addie.
And himself.
Weston figured he’d be asking himself a lot of “what the hell have I done?” questions.
“This way,” Addie said, leading him not to the front of the house but rather the back.
She was focused on the task. Or rather trying to pretend she was. But Weston could still feel the fear coming from her. Could also feel her dodging his gaze. He couldn’t blame her. She probably didn’t want to trust him, but at the moment she had no choice.
“Your friends didn’t see the killer when he shot Teddy,” she said like the accusation that it was.
“Apparently not,” he settled for saying.
“And you still trust them?” Again, an accusation.
“Yeah. With my life.”
She glanced at him, a reminder that he’d trusted them with her life, too. And her mother’s. The glance was well deserved. He had done just that. But both of his friends were former cops and had plenty of equipment that should have detected anyone in those woods surrounding the ranch.
It was obviously a precaution that’d failed big-time.
Addie and he threaded their way through a massive family room, turning off lights and locking two doors there before doing the same to yet three more off the kitchen and adjoining dining room. Even though Christmas was still three weeks away, everything was decorated for the holiday. Trees, wreaths and other decorations were in almost every room.
“My mother goes a little overboard. She loves Christmas,” Addie said.
Maybe because Addie had been found nearly thirty years ago on Christmas Eve. From everything Weston had uncovered, Iris had always wanted a daughter, so this could be a dual celebration of sorts.
Next, there was another office. Jericho’s no doubt, judging from the man-cave decor. And across the hall was a playroom filled with toys and books—a reminder that Addie had a nephew. Thank Heaven the little boy wasn’t in the house, because it was more than enough just protecting Addie and her mother.
“The windows upstairs have child locks on them and are wired in case my nephew tries to open them,” Addie explained. The words practically ran together, even faster than she was jetting around the house.
He doubted the Moonlight Strangler would climb a ladder to try to get inside. That would make him too visible, but he might try other ways. “Is there a security system for the rest of the house?”
Addie nodded, her breath still gusting. “Jericho had one installed after...well, just after.”
It was the kind of security measure Weston would have taken if he’d been in her brother’s place, even if there’d been no hint of the killer coming after her.
“It’s not armed,” he reminded her. Weston knew that for a fact since he’d literally walked right into the house. Something he needed to stop the killer from doing.
“The keypad is by the front door.” Addie led him in that direction, and while she set the system, Weston locked that door. He also checked the sidelight windows.
No one was out there. Yet. If a killer hadn’t had a target on Addie, everything would have seemed normal. Well, everything outside anyway.
“Does the alarm cover all the windows and doors?” Weston asked.
She nodded. “But it won’t go off if the glass breaks. Only if a window is actually lifted.”
That was better than nothing.
Weston took Addie back to her office. Not ideal since there was a big window, but all the rooms on the bottom floor had them.
“Jericho’s on the way,” Iris informed them the moment they returned. “An ambulance, too. I called Teddy again and told him to hold on.”
Maybe holding on would be enough and an ambulance could get to the ranch hand before he bled out. Of course, Jericho likely wouldn’t let the ambulance onto the grounds unless he was certain it was safe for the medics.
And with a killer out there, it was far from safe.
“Get down,” Weston reminded Addie when she hurried to a cabinet in the corner, where she took down a gun off the top shelf.
Good. He hated that she had to be armed, hated she was terrified to the point of shaking, but without backup, Weston wanted all the help he could get.
With his gun ready, he hurried to the window, staying to the side but still putting himself in a position so he could look out and keep watch. Weston lifted one of the blind slats, bracing himself for the worst. His heart nearly jumped from his chest when the lights flared on.
He cursed.
And it took him a second to realize it wasn’t the glare of something from the killer. It was Christmas lights. Hundreds of them. They were strung out across the barns, shrubs, porch and fences, and they winked on and off, the little blasts of color slicing through the darkness.
“They’re on a timer,” Addie said. That’s when he realized she had lifted her head and was looking out, as well. He motioned for her to get back down. “You want me to turn them off?”
“No.”
They actually helped by lighting up the grounds, and it would make it harder for the killer to use the darkness to hide. Weston hoped. This wasn’t the Moonlight Strangler’s first rodeo, and he’d likely already cased the ranch to find the safest path for him to launch an attack.
Too bad there were plenty of places to do just that.
“Why is this monster doing this now, after all this time?” Iris asked.
While Addie filled her in on what they knew, Weston kept watch and took out his phone to call Cliff Romero, a former cop and one of the friends he’d positioned around the grounds surrounding the Crockett ranch.
“What went wrong?” Weston asked the moment Cliff answered.
“We’re not sure. He didn’t get past Dave and me.”
Dave Roper. The other former cop out there. Both men had been armed with thermal equipment that should have detected anyone or anything with a pulse.
And that could mean only one thing.
That the killer had already been on the ranch grounds, maybe waiting in the shed for nightfall. He was also likely wearing some kind of clothing that would make it hard for the equipment to detect him.
“Hell,” Weston said under his breath.
“My thoughts exactly. Dave and I are moving closer, hoping to pick up his trail. Make sure we’re not hit with friendly fire.”
“I’ll try.” He hung up and glanced back at Addie again. “Text Jericho and let him know there are two PIs headed in the direction of the house.”
She did. But that didn’t mean Dave and Cliff were safe. He only hoped the pair caught up with the killer before he could inflict more harm.
“Maybe he’ll just leave if he knows we’re onto him,” Iris whispered.
Yeah, he probably would, and it was tempting to shout out something or fire a warning shot. But if Weston did that, it wouldn’t end the threat. It would only postpone an attack to another place, another time. One when Weston might have a lesser chance of protecting Addie.
“Do you see him?” Addie asked.
Weston