Prologue
“When I kill you”—his gaze traveled over her, and he smiled as he opened the door to leave—“you’ll thank me.”
I can’t breathe. Nausea gripped Marie Reyes in waves. Alone at last, the endless night had stretched on forever. Time had stopped and darkness pressed in against her from all sides. How long had it been since he’d left? She forced her dry tongue between swollen lips to push at the gaffer tape wrapped around her face. Just one small breath. The rough rope binding her hands and ankles cut deep into her flesh. Swollen blue fingers had replaced her red rough hands. Beneath her naked flesh, the cold damp concrete floor offered no comfort, although the musty odor of sacks of potatoes reminded her of her father’s farm in Mexico. Pain throbbed behind her eyes, and her body ached all over. She turned her head as a cloud moved away from the moon and a beam of light pierced through a crack in the cabin. She stared at the almost angelic dust motes dancing in the light as if offering her hope. She swallowed, trying to find a tiny modicum of saliva to wet her parched throat. A shudder went through her. Would he come back again tonight? What would happen in daylight? How long could he possibly keep her tied up here without food, water, or heat?
In and out of consciousness, she didn’t know how long she’d been lying naked on the floor or what would happen next. She should be on her way to her next job. Although she’d enjoyed working in the hay barn at Lawson’s Ridge cattle ranch, one of the men working alongside her had made her feel uncomfortable and leaving was her only option. Not wanting to complain, because complaints followed seasonal hands from one job to another, she couldn’t afford to be turned away, not with her father’s farm being in so much financial trouble and her siblings going hungry. She’d packed in a hurry after discovering the last bus to Blackwater left at ten that night. She’d asked if anyone was heading into town, and one of the men had offered to give her a ride to the bus station. He said nothing until they got there. He’d driven behind the line of parked buses and stuck a gun in her face. Terrified, she obeyed his command to lie down and cover herself with a blanket. He’d driven to a rural area with the heavy weight of the gun pressing against her back.
Heart racing, Marie hadn’t dared to call out for help or scream. When he dragged her out of the truck and pressed the muzzle of the gun inside her mouth, her legs trembled. The sound of his voice echoed through her mind. She would never forget that voice—not ever.
“You be nice, hear?” The man had slowly removed the pistol from her mouth, leaving the taste of gunpowder on her tongue. “I can kill you fast or slow, but make one sound and I’ll blow your brains out.” He’d cupped her cheek. “This is the end of the road, darlin’. You belong to me now.”
Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she forced herself not to cry. Crying made her nose run, and if it blocked, she wouldn’t be able to breathe. The sound of heavy machinery came from a long distance away and had gotten closer by the second. Heart thundering in her chest, Marie turned her attention toward the door. Had the man returned again, or was someone here to rescue her? The door opened slowly and the cabin flooded with light. The man stood looking at her and a wide smile curled his cruel lips. Marie shook in terror.
“You didn’t die.” He nudged her with the tip of his cowboy boot. “Not many get through to round three. They must make them tough in Mexico.”
Too weak to move, Marie watched him as he organized the video camera. Everything that had happened to her, the sick freak had captured. He went back and forth a couple of times to gather equipment. Finally, like before, he pulled on a balaclava, a pair of coveralls, and gloves. Wriggling and then stiffening her body to make it difficult for him to lift her, pain shot through her, stealing her breath from a vicious punch to the stomach. Doubling up in agony, she offered no resistance when he dropped her back into the upright metal chair. This disgusting animal got his pleasure from torturing women, and her muffled screams made it worse. She’d give him no more pleasure and kept silent, staring at him with defiance. The faces of her family drifted into her mind. She’d never see them again. She gritted her teeth when the next blow came, and as he continued in his madness, she welcomed the waves of unconsciousness. I’ll never wake up from this nightmare. I’m sorry, Mama.
One
Sunday
Black Rock Falls Sheriff Jenna Alton leaned on her husband’s tricked-out black truck, affectionately known as the Beast, and reminisced about her past life as DEA Agent Avril Parker. With a new name and face, she had been placed in witness protection and sent to a backwoods town. After a very short stint at being a deputy, she’d won over the townsfolk and been voted in as sheriff. This had happened almost eight years ago and she would never have believed in her wildest dreams that she’d fall in love with a black ops sniper with a bounty on his head, living off the grid in Black Rock Falls. Dave Kane had joined her team as deputy sheriff. He’d been a man of many secrets, one of them being he was still a commissioned officer and could be called upon at any moment to serve his country. He’d also received plastic surgery and a new name before being dropped into Black Rock Falls along with his handler, Dr. Shane Wolfe, who’d become a medical examiner for the entire state of Montana. When Kane had confided in Jenna, he’d given her only the barest details of his past life, and in fact, she didn’t even know her husband’s real name. Although she had overheard him telling their son Jackson as an infant that he was named after his father and grandfather. It was a secret she’d take to her grave, because if the wrong people discovered Kane’s whereabouts, the entire family would be in danger. She’d discovered Kane had suffered serious injury in a car bombing and had lost his wife and unborn child. She’d also found out that he’d protect her with his life without hesitation. It never ceased to amaze her how she collected damaged people around her. Apart from her two deputies, Zac Rio and Jake Rowley, the rest of her team, including two teams of FBI agents who’d become close friends, all came to her as damaged goods. However, they had bonded together and become a family of misfits.
It was only on rare occasions that Kane used his sniper rifle outside of his missions, but recently a new rifle range had opened. It offered targets as far as two miles away. To her surprise, shooters had flocked to the opening and they needed to book a time to use the range. Rowley’s expertise was with a crossbow, but six months or so ago he’d purchased a sniper rifle and Kane had been tutoring him on technique. The third person in the group was Special Agent Ty Carter, a close friend, ex-Navy SEAL, and a fine shot with the rifle. Kane’s other student, Rhett Lawson, their new acquaintance and the current boyfriend of Wolfe’s middle daughter, Julie, joined all of them as they took their positions in a line, each making final adjustments to their sniper rifles to hit the targets two miles in the distance. Each took three shots. A phone rang in the booth to one side of the range.
“Hold your fire.” A man came out with a phone in one hand. They waited for a few minutes. “Shoot now.”
The process went on, until they’d each made twelve shots in total. Everyone climbed back into the Beast and they drove to the main building to wait for their results. The targets came back, each one in order and numbered for each shooter. To Jenna’s surprise, Kane’s target had only one bullet hole in the center; the others had various degrees of accuracy, Carter being the best from her perspective. She walked up to Kane and stared at the target in his hand. “I thought you never missed? I guess one out of twelve isn’t so bad. Maybe you should be coming here more often?”
“Maybe I should.” Kane raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. He turned to Rowley. “Great job. I knew you’d make a good sniper. Get in as much practice as you can.”
“I will, but right now, I’m heading home to spend some time with my wife and kids before some lunatic drives into town and starts killing people again.” Rowley chuckled and headed for his vehicle.
“Look.” Beside Jenna, Carter lifted Kane’s target and pushed his finger through the bullseye. “See how big the hole is? He hit dead center every time. Twelve perfect shots.” He slapped Kane on the back. “You’re a legend.”
Impressed, Jenna smiled at Kane. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I don’t need to.” Kane shrugged. “You know I never miss.”
Jenna rolled up the target. “I’m keeping this. It’s not every girl who’s married to a legend.”
“Are you coming to Rhett’s place today? We can take the kids on a trail ride and check out the place where his parents died.” Carter walked beside them to the truck.
“You can.” Rhett shuddered. “I’ve already seen it. It gave me the creeps.”
“It’s not even nine yet.” Kane checked his watch and then looked at Rhett. “We’ll head home, pick up the kids and horses, and be at your place by ten-thirty.”
Jenna climbed into the Beast. She’d been anxious to take a look at the place where Rhett’s parents died twenty-two years ago. He’d recently inherited Lawson’s Ridge, a massive prime beef cattle and bison ranch, at the age of twenty-five. With the documents that came with it, he’d been given a letter from his father.
Dear Rhett,
* * *
How strange it is to be talking to the future you. My little boy is now twenty-five and a man, no doubt set in his ways and fresh from college. I must say whatever has happened to you since we last met, your mom and I love you with all our hearts.
Lately a few unusual things have happened around the ranch. I can’t go into details because I might place you in danger. I visited my trusted lawyer and made plans should anything happen to your mom and me. I made it possible for the ranch to continue under the guidance of a rancher until such time you are able to take over. I could see no reason why a lucrative business should fail, and this being the case, you will inherit a fortune.
I hope my parents raised you. I’ve already spoken to them and made them aware of the situation, and they will be caring for you until we get this sorted. God willing, nothing bad will happen to us and you’ll open this letter after we’ve lived a full life, but if you’re reading this at twenty-five and we’ve been dead before you turned three, it was murder.
