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Ending the call, Owen unleashed a growl of frustration. He’d been right. Bill had stranded his truck where it would easily be found to lure him away from Marie. The bastard had stayed close enough to keep an eye on her since last night, and Owen had played right into his hand—leaving not only Marie, but Pappy, exposed to a lunatic.
At least the baby hadn’t been there.
The red brick ended, and his car sailed on the smooth asphalt toward Pappy’s house. The road curved alongside the river, the water higher than normal after the constant rain the last few days. Owen needed both hands to keep his vehicle steady as he raced. He activated the voice command on the wheel. “Call Tommy.”
Ringing blared through the speakers while Owen kept his gaze focused ahead.
“Hey. What’s up?” Tommy’s voice boomed in the car.
“I need you and Dad at Pappy’s. Bill showed up and shot Pappy. I don’t have many details, but Katherine’s there now.”
“Is Pappy all right?”
“Katherine said she thinks he’ll be fine, and I trust her judgement. But he’s old, and there’s no telling what an injury like this could do.”
Muttered curses dominated the phone line. “The bastard played us.”
“Looks like it. If we’re lucky, Pappy got something on video to help us figure out which way he went. We need to move quickly.”
“Dad and I are on our way. We’re still at the truck, so it won’t take long.”
Owen veered off the road onto Pappy’s long driveway. The canopy of tall trees branching over the lane blocked out the sun and cast a shadow over his car. The brick ranch where he’d spent so much of his childhood came into view, and a flood of memories crashed into him. He might trust Katherine’s opinion, but he needed to see Pappy…then he needed to find the man who’d hurt him. “I’m here now. See you soon.”
Clicking off the line, Owen pulled into a small patch of stones on the edge of the driveway. The EMTs didn’t need him blocking them in when it was time to take Pappy to the hospital. He slammed on the brakes, and gravel pinged against the side of his vehicle. He drew in a deep breath, shut off the engine, and jumped from the car. He ran across the yard, dashed up the porch, and charged inside.
A circus might as well be crammed in the small living room. Pappy sat on the floor with his legs straight in front of him and his back pressed against the sofa. Katherine sat beside him, her red-rimmed eyes focused on their grandfather and blond hair pulled behind her shoulders in a low ponytail. An EMT kneeled beside Pappy, checking vitals and arguing something in a low voice.
Owen closed the short distance to his grandpa and dropped beside him. “Are you okay? What happened?”
A sheen of perspiration coated Lewis’ thin skin, and he winced as he shifted to face Owen. “I was at my desk and heard the alarm go off. I came out with my shotgun, but the scumbag grabbed Marie and used her as a shield.”
Guilt and anger swirled inside Owen’s veins. He clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. “How did you get shot?”
Lewis raised his brows and the deep wrinkles on his face nearly folded into themselves. “If you’d let me talk, I’d tell you.”
Owen laughed. If Pappy had his tough-as-nails attitude and feisty comebacks at the ready, he’d be just fine. “Sorry. Go on.”
“I came out and pointed my gun at the guy. Marie—she’s smart, I’ll give her that—she must have figured out where the guy’s injury was. Rammed him in the side, took him by surprise. He swung his arm around to cradle where she’d hit him, and his gun went off. Not sure if he meant to or not, but the bullet hit me on the side of the leg.” Lewis rubbed the top of his thigh.
Owen’s gaze followed the motion of Lewis’ gnarled fingers, and his stomach dropped. Blood coated his worn jeans. He moved his tongue over the dryness of his mouth, unable to form words.
“He’s lost some blood. I’d like to take him to the emergency room.” The medical worker looped a stethoscope around his neck. “I’m worried about the bump on his head, too. He needs to go to the hospital.”
Lewis pressed against the couch and clenched his teeth, shifting his weight in an effort to get to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Katherine flattened a palm on Lewis’ shoulder and eased him back to the floor. “Pappy, they need to look at you. We need to make sure you’re all right.”
“You already gave me a look over, and I’m fine. Now get this crap out of my house.” Lewis threw his hand wide, indicating the gurney and medical equipment scattered around.
“Pappy this isn’t just a scrape or bruise. You were shot.” Owen admired the old man’s spunk, but some things were non-negotiable. And going to the hospital to get a gunshot wound looked at was one of them.
Lewis shook his head. “No.”
Owen rose, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared down at Lewis. Katherine stood to join him, and dammit if her hard stare and tightly pressed together lips made his five-foot five-inch sister look tougher than him.
“You two can stand there looking like spoiled brats. I’m not going.” Lewis stared ahead, ignoring everyone in the room.
“Sir, we need to clean your wound and possibly give you a few stitches.” The EMT sighed and rubbed his forehead, making the doughy flesh ripple.
