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She had no vehicle. No one trustworthy to take the child. She rushed toward the tree line and into the brush then placed the child behind a large tree trunk. Was John okay? Worry thumped in her chest. “What’s your name?”
“Mason.”
“Mason. I’m Violet. I’m a police officer, and I’m gonna make sure you’re okay.” But who was going to look after John? And where was Whiskey? “You hang on to the little cowboy...” She noticed the scarf covering its face. Like an outlaw. It was sheer material. Like racy underwear. She touched it and noticed it had been cut. Her stomach roiled as thoughts snapped through her mind until her attention was snagged by a woman racing from the back of the bar along the edge of the property, a purse in hand. A shotgun blast fired, and she squealed and ducked.
“Over here!” Violet hollered. “I’m a federal agent. Come to me!” Otherwise the woman might get her head blown off.
The woman crouched and darted toward her, long dark hair blowing in the breeze. At least the rain had let up.
Thunder rumbled.
Lovely.
The woman approached, her face shadowed but her form was tall, lean. Violet smelled the sweet scent of perfume, cigarette smoke and alcohol as she crouched beside her.
“Miss Ruby!” the little boy cried and reached for the woman.
“Mason? What’s going on out here?” Her voice was sweet and soprano. Violet snagged her cell phone. “I found him inside behind the bar. Do you know him?”
“Yeah. His mom is Bella Dawn. A friend of mine. I’m Ruby.”
Violet shined the light to see the woman. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she swallowed hard. Long dark hair. Blue-green eyes. Squared jaw...the subtle hint of a cleft in her chin. Not as pronounced as hers. High cheekbones.
“Ruby Boyd?” Violet asked through a dry mouth.
“Yeah.”
Violet lost her breath.
It was undeniable.
She was staring down her half-sister.
John took another punch to the ribs and tossed out his police procedural knowledge. All the announcements he might declare as the law would fall on deaf ears. Between the music, the brawl and the screams, no one would hear and no one cared.
He swung around with a right hook and laid the guy out on the ground.
Three rounds fired inside the building, sending the frenzy into a state of shock. The fighting died down, and cries from women could be heard under what tables were left upright.
Violet. Where was she? Had she been hurt? He’d been tied up in the thick of it and unable to find her.
A guy picked up a chair, and another shot whizzed beside him, leaving a hole in the wall next to his head. John whipped in the direction of the gunfire.
Violet stood in the open area, gun aimed and icy fury in her eyes. “Next one to move gets a bullet to the brain. Am I clear?”
She searched the bar, her sight landed on John and she sighed.
“Enough.” A sharp voice cut through the noise. Greg stood with a shotgun. “Party’s over.” He cursed the place out and called out Bear Wheeler and Joey Jacobs to make their way upstairs. They’d started the brawl.
“Miss Law Lady, you can put your weapon away. Now. We got this under control.”
Violet appeared bored. “I think I’ll pass, thank you.”
Why hadn’t he done this earlier when John was getting the stuffin’ beaten out of him? The only reason Greg even intervened was Violet coming in guns blazing, literally, which she could get in a lot of trouble for. He stood on shaky feet; his ribs and head ached. His nose and lip were bloody, and his hand hurt from the punch he’d thrown. He hobbled through the debris to Violet.
“Everybody out,” Greg said.
People began exiting. Trucks rumbled. Headlights flashed through the windows. “There’s a kid out there. I left him with someone he knows. My gut says he’s in good hands, but I want to make sure we get them somewhere secure.”
