and was now walking past a field with overgrown grass. The bad weather must be keeping everyone indoors because the roads were empty. That meant no chance of hitching a ride.
A flash flood alert had already buzzed on his cell. If he hadn’t been distracted thinking about his parents’ murder investigation then he would’ve filled up the tank sooner, instead of sloshing through water that was rapidly gathering on the roads and sidewalks while wearing his good boots.
He still couldn’t think of a soul who’d want to harm his folks. His father, a self-made millionaire cattle rancher who’d owned a few thousand acres in Bluff, Texas, had built his business on handshakes and hard work. His mother, the matriarch of the family, was as kind as she was giving. Joshua and his five brothers had inherited the lion’s share of the family business, which included a successful rifleman’s club. A token share went to their aunt and uncle, same as it had been when his parents were alive. The brothers had voted to give a devoted worker a piece of the pie.
Joshua’s investigation experience told him to look at those who were closest to his parents, the ones who had the most to gain. Skills honed by Denver PD told him to look for motive, means and opportunity. The only people who stood to benefit from his parents’ murders were him and his brothers. None of his brothers had motive. Each was successful in his own right and the O’Briens had always been a loving, close-knit bunch. It couldn’t be one of them, which led Joshua to believe that someone had a beef with his parents. It was the only thing that made sense. And he drew a blank there, too. There were no secret affairs, no emotional dramas with friends. His parents were exactly as they appeared on the surface. Generous. Kind. Loving.
The sheriff was checking every angle. He was a close family friend and Joshua knew he was taking the news just as hard.
A warm glow, most likely a streetlight in the distance, meant Joshua was getting closer to the station. At least it wasn’t freezing cold outside like it had been recently. Christmas was three weeks away and weather this time of year was unpredictable.
Another bolt of lightning helped Joshua see that if he cut through the field he’d get to the station faster. He took a step onto the land and knee-deep grass. Heavy rain. Tall grass. Horrible luck. Looking down caused water to run off the rim of his Stetson, but he didn’t care. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, which meant he’d been on foot for a solid fifteen minutes already. The station was ahead and he stepped up his pace through the field. As he made the clearing he noticed a teen, maybe sixteen years old based on her petite build, walking ahead of him. Was someone else stranded in this crazy weather?
She seemed a little young to be out walking on a night like this. He started to call out to her when a flash of lightning blazed across the sky and he caught sight of a man watching her intently from behind the trash bins of the gas station. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Joshua counted three seconds in between the flash and the noise. That meant lightning was right on top of them.
Joshua’s pulse spiked as he spotted another man crouching at the edge of the field as the unsuspecting teen kept bebopping along. She must have no idea the amount of danger she was about to walk into. And Joshua didn’t either because he counted a third man closing in on her from the east. How many others were there?
Based on the way she made the occasional stop to shake her arms or perform some other dance move, Joshua figured that she must be wearing earbuds. That wasn’t her brightest move for a couple of reasons. For one, she didn’t need to be wearing electronics in a storm. For another, it meant she wouldn’t hear him even if he screamed at the top of his lungs. That would, however, alert the men bearing down on her like hunters closing in on a quarry.
Damn, his shotgun was locked inside his Jeep.
Dropping to crouching position, Joshua tried to make himself as small as possible—not exactly easy with his six-foot-four-inch frame—as he shifted all his attention to the teen. She kept her head down. She was wearing jeans that were plastered to her legs and a couple layers of tank tops slick from rain.
And she had no idea what was about to go down.
The big question was how Joshua was going to get her out of this mess. Staying low was his best chance of not being noticed. He palmed his cell, moving closer. Could he call his friend Tommy Johnson, the sheriff? Probably not without being seen. The light from his phone could give him away. If the men saw him, he had no idea what they were capable of doing to him and the girl. Then again, an ill-timed bolt of lightning would have the same effect.
His Jeep was too far away to run back and get his shotgun. The men would be long gone with the girl. He focused on the teen as he moved closer to the gas station. She had a tiny frame and hair for days that she was trying to wrangle into a ponytail. Even wet he could see how thick it was. With her back turned, Joshua couldn’t see the details of her face, but the rest of her looked straight out of an Abercrombie & Fitch ad. Scanning the area, watching the men, Joshua knew that this was a coordinated kidnapping attempt. Outnumbered by at least three to one, Joshua calculated the odds of getting to her and they weren’t good.
Could he use the darkness to cloak them both? One wrong move and he’d be exposed. She wouldn’t have a chance on her own. He needed a plan and yet there was no time to make one. If the men got to her first it would be all over. No way could he handle three against one without a weapon of his own. He’d turned in his service weapon and had stopped carrying his backup since he spent most of his time with cattle on the ranch.
Joshua glanced down at the gas container in his hand, sloshing around what little leftover contents were at the bottom. There hadn’t been enough to get him to the gas station, but there might be enough to create a diversion. Distract the men for a few seconds and grab the teen. If he could get her into the convenience store safely there’d be shelter and witnesses. That should scare these guys off. He hoped.
Joshua tucked away his cell and then fished his emergency lighter from the front pocket of his denim jacket. With all this water coming down everywhere, he needed something that he could use as a wick. Nothing was dry.
Lighting the plastic container on fire right next to him was too much of a risk. He cleared an area, poured a little of the gasoline out and then rolled several times until he was a few feet from the container.
Joshua flicked his lighter and then tossed it toward the spot. He didn’t wait for it to light up, he bolted toward the teenager.
As the blaze ignited, Joshua wrapped an arm around her waist.
Maybe it was fear that had her frozen but he’d expected a fight. He noted that her struggle was weak at best. Shouldn’t she be biting and kicking to get away? Other than a little squirming, she wasn’t doing much to help herself. Joshua was even more grateful that he was there to help.
He sprinted toward the gas station. Lightning struck as he scrambled onto the lot, illuminating the man by the trash bins. Joshua could see the guy’s face clearly and the dude was looking right at Joshua. Not only was his gaze fixed, but he made a move toward a weapon, a gun maybe, as Joshua barreled around the corner, memorizing the details of the guy’s face in the light. He had black-as-night hair, and an oval-shaped face. His eyes were set wide and his nose prominent. His eyebrows were bushy, his forehead large and he had a decent amount of scruff on his chin. His face was familiar but Joshua couldn’t place it.
Then he heard someone cussing at him, realized it was coming from the teen as she started actually fighting. Good for her.
“You’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” Joshua said, trying to reassure her. She must be confused and scared as he rounded the corner.
“I didn’t think you were, jerk,” she shot back.
What the...? Not the reaction he was expecting but then she was probably still in shock.
“Put me down,” she demanded. Her voice was a study in calm.
“Not so fast,” he said, scrambling inside the station.
Her response came in the form of twists and turns so quick he almost lost his grip around her tiny waist. Her elbow slammed into his ribs.