Lawman with a Cause Read online

  Egan had come close to doing just that, but even if he had snapped, he wouldn’t have gone after the people who’d gotten Shanna’s organs. He would have gone after Drew.

  And maybe Jordan.

  But he hadn’t snapped. And wouldn’t. However, there were a couple of things that didn’t fit here.

  “If you thought I’d gone crazy, why were you heading out to the ranch?” Egan asked. “Weren’t you afraid I’d gun you down once you got there?” Egan didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of his voice.

  “I was going to see your brother, Court. I called dispatch, and they said you were still at work so I thought I could talk to Court alone.”

  Court was at the ranch all right, and his brother was not only a deputy sheriff, he would have also been more open to having a conversation with Jordan. Court probably didn’t have the raw nerves that Egan still had about Shanna’s death. Plus, Court and Jordan had been friends once, too.

  “Look, I dismissed all of this at first,” Jordan continued. “I’m a private investigator these days, and I know how to look at things objectively. Most things anyway,” she added in a mumble.

  Egan figured that was meant for him. Maybe Jordan hadn’t been able to get past the hurt and emotions of Shanna’s death, either, and that was why she’d thought Egan might be a killer.

  “Have you been keeping an eye on Drew’s brother, Kirk?” Egan asked.

  Jordan nodded. Then, hesitated. “Well, as much as I can. He’s a cattle broker, and he travels a lot. And yeah, he’s still riled that his brother is on death row. He could be willing to play into Drew’s sick fantasies of making sure every part of Shanna is dead.”

  Definitely a sick fantasy. And riled was putting it mildly for the way Kirk felt about his brother. Kirk thought Egan had provoked Drew into that hostage standoff. Kirk wasn’t exactly specific about how Egan had managed to do that, but he blamed Egan for the situation. Maybe Kirk had decided to spread the blame around now and include Jordan. And those other recipients.

  Still...

  “What’s the name and number of the SAPD officer who investigated the break-in and fire at your house?” he asked.

  She paused several moments as if she might not tell him. That whole lack-of-trusting-him thing might be playing into this, but Jordan finally handed him her phone. “It’s Christian Abrams. He’s not the cop I contacted to come out here, but his number is in my recent calls.”

  It was. In fact, Jordan had called the man three times in the past two hours. And there were six missed calls from Christian to Jordan. It did make Egan wonder, though, why she hadn’t phoned this guy after she had gotten injured. Or taken any of those six calls.

  While Egan kept watch for the ambulance, he pressed Christian’s number, and he answered right away. “Where the hell are you, Jordan?” the cop snarled.

  “I’m not Jordan. I’m Egan McCall.”

  “The sheriff over in McCall Canyon,” Christian said after a short pause, and Egan didn’t think it was his imagination there was some venom in the man’s tone. “Jordan went to you after all. I told her that wasn’t a good idea.”

  Egan skipped right over that and went to the reason he’d wanted to speak to the man. “Is someone trying to kill Jordan?”

  Christian certainly didn’t jump to answer that. “Is she there with you? Can she hear this?”

  The answer to both of those was yes. Egan hadn’t put the call on speaker, but the cop’s voice was carrying in the truck. Jordan would almost certainly be able to hear him. But that wasn’t what Egan said because he didn’t want this guy clamming up.

  “She can’t hear us,” Egan lied.

  “Good. Because I don’t want to alienate her. Jordan needs friends right now. The right friends.”

  Again, judging from the tone, Christian didn’t think Egan fell into that category. “Did someone really break into her house and try to kill her?” Egan pressed.

  “Yes, but Jordan has this notion—no, it’s an obsession now—with connecting anything that’s happening to her friend’s murder. Did she tell you that she thinks someone is killing organ recipients?”

  “She mentioned it.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s true,” Christian concluded. “I think Jordan’s feeling so overwhelmed with guilt from her friend’s death that she’s seeing bogeymen who just aren’t there.”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to snatch the phone from him, but Egan waved her off.

  “You’ve investigated the two deaths?” Egan asked Christian.

  “Yes, and I’m just not seeing what Jordan’s seeing. One of the victims was mangled and burned so bad in a car accident that it was hard to tell if she had missing organs or not. The other was dumped in the woods, and animals had ravaged the body.”

  As gruesome as that was, Egan actually felt some relief. Maybe this wasn’t connected to Shanna after all. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. It sickened him, though, to think that Jordan might be right, that Drew did indeed want any living part of Shanna dead.

  “Look, just tell her to come home, and I’ll talk this out with her,” Christian continued. “Or better yet, tell me where she is, and I’ll come and get her. I care for her. A lot. I want to make sure she gets the help she needs.”

  This time, Jordan did grab the phone, and she hit the end-call button. She opened her mouth, no doubt to try to convince him that she wasn’t “obsessed” as Christian had claimed. But the approaching headlights stopped her.

  The vehicle wasn’t coming from town but rather from the direction of the ranch. If it was Court or one of the hands, they would stop when they spotted his truck, and Egan would have to explain why Jordan was with him.

  Too bad he wasn’t sure of the answer himself.

  As the headlights got closer, Egan felt his chest tighten. That was because it was a blue truck. Identical to his. And there wasn’t another vehicle like it on the ranch. Plus, this vehicle had the same license plate number. Since Egan’s plate was legit, this one had to be a fake.

  “It’s him.” Jordan reached for his jeans. No doubt to try to get to her gun. But it was too late.

  The bullet crashed through the windshield of Egan’s truck.

  Chapter Two

  Jordan’s breath froze. No, please, no. This couldn’t be happening again.

  She heard the hoarse sob tear from her throat, and she took hold of her gun that was in the back waistband of Egan’s jeans. She managed to get it, but Egan immediately pushed her down onto the seat. Good thing, too.

  Because the next bullet slammed into the seat right where Jordan had been sitting.

  If Egan hadn’t moved her at that exact moment, she’d be dead. She still might be, and this time the shooter might kill Egan right along with her.

  “Hold on,” Egan warned her. Keeping low, he started his truck, threw it into Reverse and jammed his foot on the accelerator.

  The sudden jolt of motion knocked Jordan against the seat. Hard. Her head hit, too, and the pain jolted through her. Still, feeling the awful pain was better than being shot again, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

  A third bullet smacked into the windshield, and she could have sworn it missed Egan by less than an inch. The bullet went into the headrest next to where he was hunched down.

  Jordan lifted her head to get a better look at the vehicle. It was the same truck, all right. And the person inside obviously wanted to have another go at killing her. The guy had the driver’s-side window down, and he had a gun sticking out.

  “I can’t see his face,” Jordan said. Because there was a dark tint on the windows. It didn’t help, either, that the driver had on the high beams, and they were shining right in her eyes.

  “Don’t make it easy for him to shoot you,” Egan snarled. He shoved her back down, and he kept speeding down the road in Reverse.


  Jordan wanted to remind him that she was a PI and former cop. She could return fire. However, at the moment that might not even be true. She was dizzy from the pain, and her hands were shaking. It was possible she couldn’t even hit the truck, much less the driver.

  There was the sound of tires squealing against the asphalt, and Jordan knew what that meant. “He’s coming after us.”

  Egan didn’t confirm that, but since the shots had stopped, it told her that the driver might be the sole person in the truck. If so, it was a gutsy move on his part to go after two armed and trained people. Then again, the guy did have them on the run, and that driver had a lot more control over his vehicle right now than Egan did. It was easier to drive forward than in Reverse, but there was no place for them to turn around on the narrow road.

  “Call nine-one-one,” Egan ordered. “I want backup. But not the ambulance. Once we’re out of this, I’ll get you to the hospital.”

  Seeing a doctor was the least of her concerns right now, and Jordan made the call for backup. The problem wouldn’t be getting someone out here because they weren’t that far from town. But Egan was literally taking up most of the road, and it would make it hard for the deputies to get in position to help them. Still, she wasn’t sure how much longer Egan could keep this up.

  Jordan had just finished the call when she felt the jolt. The other truck had slammed into them. Hard. She heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Unless the second truck had a reinforced bumper, he could be doing as much damage to his vehicle as he was to theirs.

  Egan was still low in the seat, using the side mirror to navigate, but he had to adjust so he could better grip the steering wheel when the driver came at them again. If he hadn’t done that, they would have gone into the ditch. It hadn’t rained recently so it wasn’t filled with water, but they’d still probably get stuck. Then, they’d be sitting ducks for the shooter.

  The memories came. They always did whenever Jordan had a gun in her hand. That wasn’t exactly an asset for a private investigator—to have the memories come at her so fast and strong that it put her on the verge of a panic attack. It was the reason she didn’t wear a badge any longer. It was also the reason her life, and her head, were a mess.

  If Drew Paxton was behind this, then he was getting a good laugh right now. Not only was he trying to “kill” any living piece of Shanna, he might manage to take out the man Shanna had loved. Of course, Jordan felt as if she had already managed to “take out” Egan. Shanna’s death had crushed him.

  And Jordan was responsible for that.

  Drew had been aiming at Jordan to finish her off when he’d fired that deadly shot. But he hadn’t hit his target. Because Shanna had jumped in front of Jordan at the worst possible moment. And now Shanna was dead from a gunshot wound to the head, and Jordan was alive. Egan would never forgive her for that, and she’d never forgive herself.

  The memories thankfully moved to the back of her mind when the truck crashed into them. Egan had to fight with the steering wheel again, and it didn’t help when the driver rammed into them a fourth time. He would almost certainly continue to do that, too, until he disabled the engine, forcing them to stop. Then, he could try to use his gun on them to finish this.

  “Hold on,” Egan repeated to her.

  Jordan lifted her head again so she could get a glimpse out the windshield, but the glass was so cracked and webbed that it was hard to see anything. She certainly couldn’t tell if the guy was about to hit them again.

  But she did hear the squeal of his tires.

  Not the other truck’s but Egan’s. Egan hit the brakes, and in the same motion, he turned the steering wheel, backing onto what appeared to be a ranch trail. It was gravel, and the rocks pelted the undercarriage. The sound was deafening, like being bombarded with bullets, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the other driver hitting his brakes, as well.

  Now that they were both stopped, Jordan figured either Egan or she would have a shot. Of course, so would the driver of that truck. That was probably why Egan got his window down in a hurry. Before Jordan could even sit up, Egan got off two shots.

  Jordan lowered her window, too, and she tried to steady her hand enough to take aim. She didn’t get a chance to do that, though.

  “What the hell,” Egan mumbled.

  The other truck’s door flew open. Not on the driver’s side, either. But the passenger’s. Maybe she’d been wrong about the shooter being the only person inside the vehicle.

  And then something fell from that opened door.

  It was too dark to tell exactly what it was, but Jordan thought maybe it was a person. If it was someone, Jordan figured he or she would get up and start shooting at Egan and her.

  But that didn’t happen.

  The driver of the other truck slammed on the accelerator, leaving the other person behind. Jordan braced herself for the truck to hit them again. It didn’t. The driver sped off, heading in the direction of town.

  She could practically feel the debate Egan was having with himself as to what to do. He volleyed his attention between the person on the ground and the escaping driver of the other truck.

  Egan finally snatched his phone up from the seat, pressed a number and immediately put the call on speaker. No doubt so he could free up his hands in case he needed to use his gun.

  “John,” he said to the person who answered.

  John Clary was one of the deputies who worked for Egan at the McCall Canyon Sheriff’s Office. Jordan had known him for years, and she knew he was a good lawman. He had almost certainly brought another deputy with him, too.

  “You’ve got a dark blue truck headed your way,” Egan told the deputy. “It’s identical to mine, right down to the same license plate, but it’s not me. The driver is armed and dangerous. Stop him if you can.”

  “Will do. Say, are you okay, boss?” John asked.

  Egan paused. “I have Jordan Gentry with me.”

  John obviously knew something had to be seriously wrong for her to be with Egan. And it was. That person on the road wasn’t moving. That didn’t mean he or she wasn’t still dangerous, though. This could be a ploy to get Egan and her out in the open so the person could gun them down.

  “Just get to the truck,” Egan added to John a moment later. “I don’t want whoever’s inside escaping.”

  Neither did Jordan, but there were several ways the shooter could manage to do just that. She’d grown up in McCall Canyon and knew there were plenty of ranch trails between here and town. He could turn onto one of those and hide. Plus, there was even another farm road along the route. If he or she managed to get there ahead of the deputy, then it was just a short drive to the interstate. It would be hard to track him after that because she was betting he would switch out those fake plates.

  Part of her didn’t mind having some distance between the attacker and her. Especially since Jordan wasn’t in much shape to put up a fight. Her shoulder was still bleeding, and her head was throbbing. But she also knew if they didn’t catch him now, that he would likely come after her again.

  “No matter what happens, I want you to stay put,” Egan warned her a split second before he eased the truck out from the trail and back onto the road. “And keep an eye out in case our friend returns to shoot at us again.”

  Jordan was already doing that, but she was also making glances at the person who was still lying on the road. Egan pulled closer, but it was still hard to tell much because he or she was wrapped in a blanket. Of course, the cover could be concealing a weapon.

  Had Drew or his brother managed to send would-be killers after them? If so, this could be a hired gun. That was probably why Egan hadn’t wanted her out of the truck. But obviously he wasn’t going to take that same precaution himself.

  He put on his emergency flashers, the red lights knifing through the darkness, and he pulled to a stop dir
ectly next to the person. Jordan moved closer to him so she could provide some backup if this turned into a shootout, but there wasn’t much she could do to keep him out of the line of fire.

  Egan stepped out.

  He immediately maneuvered himself so that he was in front of Jordan, protecting her. She knew it wasn’t personal, though. Egan was a lawman through and through, and he would now see her as part of the job.

  Even if it wasn’t a job that he especially wanted.

  Jordan moved again, too, so that she could keep watch around them and still see from over his shoulder. With his gun ready, Egan walked closer. There was still no movement, so he used the toe of his boot to nudge the person.

  “Is it a dummy?” Jordan asked.

  Egan nudged it again and shook his head. “There’s blood.”

  Sweet heaven. That gave Jordan another jolt of adrenaline—along with a really bad thought. Both Egan and she had fired shots into the truck. And they’d done that before the person had been dumped on the road.

  Had she shot him or her?

  Or had Egan done it?

  Jordan forced herself to remember that this could have been the shooter who’d been trying to kill them. He or she might have deserved to die. But like Shanna, the person could have been innocent in all of this, too.

  Her lungs started to ache, and that was when she realized she was holding her breath. Her chest muscles were too tight. As if they were squeezing the life out of her. Jordan refused to give in to the memories and the panic. None of that would help Egan right now.

  She heard Egan gut out some profanity under his breath as he reached for the blanket. He didn’t yank it but rather gave it a gentle tug, touching it only with his fingertips.

  The way a cop would touch evidence he didn’t want contaminated.

  And Jordan soon realized why Egan had done that. The moment he pulled back the blanket, she saw the face of the person who was wrapped inside it.