Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott (types of ebook readers .TXT) 📗

the cop sticking behind him like a pesky gnat.

Then another squad car materialized from the right, cutting directly in front of him. Duncan had little choice but to yank the SUV over and hit the brake hard, to avoid the inevitable collision.

“Be ready to run,” he said in a low, urgent voice.

“No, I’m not leaving you,” she whispered.

He didn’t like it and reached for his gun, but a second too late. The officer was already at his driver’s side window, his weapon pointed at Duncan.

“Put your hands in the air! Don’t touch the gun!”

“I won’t!” The last thing Duncan needed was for this guy to be trigger happy.

“Get out of the car with your hands up!”

“Don’t shoot! I’m surrendering!” Duncan did as ordered while trying desperately to think of a way out of this mess. He didn’t trust either of these guys, but the cop behind him less so than the younger officer holding him at gunpoint.

Holding his hands up high, he kicked the door open. The young officer had taken several steps back, so the abrupt opening of the door didn’t come close to touching him. “My name is Duncan O’Hare and I’m a cop with the Milwaukee Police Department.”

“Turn around very slowly and put your hands on the top of the vehicle.” The officer acted as if he didn’t care that Duncan was a fellow cop.

“Thanks JT, I’ll take it from here,” a voice drawled from behind him.

“Are you sure, Lieutenant?” The officer’s tone was respectful but held a distinct note of doubt. “I think it would be better to stay and back you up, just in case they try to make a run for it, again.”

“Go ahead and cuff him and the woman,” the lieutenant responded. “Then I’ll take over.”

Duncan shot a quick glance over his shoulder, eyeing the lieutenant. His name tag identified him as Goldberg. He was a big burly guy, with a gut that hung over his belt, and the coldness in his gaze made Duncan suspect this was the guy on Wolfe’s payroll.

Not any low-ranking officer, but a lieutenant. He supposed it could be worse—at least the mole wasn’t the chief of police.

Unless there were more than one of them on the inside. Not a happy thought.

“Don’t leave us with Goldberg,” Duncan said in a low, urgent voice, as the young officer slapped a silver bracelet around his right wrist and yanked it down behind his back. “He can’t be trusted. If you leave us alone, he’ll kill us.”

His words fell on deaf ears. The officer brought his left wrist back and finished the job of securing his wrists together. “Hey, Lou, what’s the story with these two? They rob a bank or what?”

“Something like that,” the lieutenant drawled. “Thanks again for your quick response, JT. You go on, now, and I’ll make sure to put a good word in for you.”

“Thanks, Lou,” the young man responded. Duncan turned so that his cuffed wrists were up against the SUV. He wished Chelsey would have run away. The lieutenant probably wouldn’t have been able to catch her, but instead she’d stayed and allowed young JT to place her in cuffs, too. She huddled next to him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms.

“You sure you don’t need anything else?” JT asked. Duncan tried to catch the young officer’s gaze—the guy had to realize this was not normal protocol.

Lieutenants rarely came out of their offices to make arrests on the street. Not even in a small town like Jackson, Wyoming, would something like that be a common occurrence.

“JT, you might want to mention this to the federal marshals at the police station,” Duncan said quickly. “Slade Brooks and Colt Nelson.”

“Marshals?” The young officer hesitated, glancing back at his lieutenant. “You know about that, Lou?”

“I do, and don’t let these two innocent faces fool you,” he drawled. “They’re both wanted for murdering a cop.”

“Cops killing cops,” JT said in disgust. “Nothin’ worse than that.”

“You’re right,” Duncan agreed. “Just ask your lieutenant, after all his loyalty has been bought and paid for.”

The lieutenant moved quickly, pulling his baton and whacking it hard against Duncan’s midsection.

The force of the blow had him doubling over, pain shooting through him and the contents of his stomach threatening to erupt. Blackness hovered along the edge of his vision as he tried desperately not to lose consciousness.

“No! Stop it! Please, don’t hurt him!” Chelsey’s horrified tone helped keep him on his feet.

He would not fall to his knees in front of Lieutenant Goldberg.

“Hey, Lou?” There was an uncertainty to JT’s voice that gave Duncan hope.

“I’ll take it from here,” Goldberg repeated. “Call a tow truck for their SUV, then get back to work.” When JT hesitated, he added, “JT? That’s a direct order, son.”

For second Duncan thought the young cop might continue arguing, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and made his way back to his squad car. JT opened the driver’s side door and slid in behind the wheel.

He backed up, then drove off without giving them a second glance.

Duncan tried to keep his breathing even, despite the throbbing pain. “So now what, Lou?” he asked, mimicking JT’s nickname. “Where are you going to take us?”

“Start walking.” The lieutenant looked irritated as he lightly tapped the baton against the palm of his hand. Duncan had a sneaking suspicion the man liked hurting others and feared that his next target might be Chelsey.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay, you’ve got us under your control,” Duncan agreed. He glanced at Chelsey, using his gaze to indicate she should go ahead of him. “We’re not going to cause you any trouble.”

“You’ve already caused me a great deal of trouble,” the lieutenant hissed. He moved forward, opened the back seat of his squad car and used the baton to point at the back seat. “Get in.”

Duncan swept a glance over the area, hoping to catch the eye of someone, anyone nearby. But the bystanders stayed far back, as if in fear for