Holden
Auteur
Delores Fossen
Lezers
16,6K
Hoofdstukken
18
Chapter One
Something wasn’t right.
US Marshal Holden Ryland didn’t have to rely on his lawman’s instincts to know that. The Craftsman-style house was pitch-dark except for a single dim light in the front room. The home owner, Nicky Hart, hated the dark, and whenever she was home, every light was usually blazing.
So, either she’d skipped out on their little chat, or… Holden decided to go with the skipping-out theory because at the moment it was the lesser of two evils. After all, there was a reason why they needed to talk.
A bad one.
Holden slid his hand over the gun in his holster and got out of his truck. He’d barely made it a few steps when her white cat came darting out from beneath the porch. It headed right toward him, coiling around his leg and meowing.
Another sign that something was wrong.
Nicky didn’t let the cat outside—ever.
So, was Nicky inside? And if so, had something happened to her? Holden cursed himself for not having done a silent approach. That way, he could have parked up the street, slipped around to the side of the house and looked in the windows. It might have alerted her neighbors, but that was better than dealing with some of the bad scenarios going through his head. Still, he hadn’t taken that precaution because he hadn’t figured he would run in to any kind of immediate trouble.
Well, no trouble other than an argument with Nicky.
When he’d called Nicky an hour earlier and told her that he was on his way to their hometown of Silver Creek to talk to her, she hadn’t said a word about anything being wrong. In fact, she sounded as if she’d been expecting his call. But then, she’d sent a text just a few minutes later, saying she wouldn’t be available after all.
Right.
Holden wasn’t about to believe that lie. She was dodging him. And not doing a very good job of it, either, because her garage door was up, and he could see her car. That meant she was probably inside and that there was a good explanation for no lights on and the cat being outside. He hoped there was a good explanation anyway.
He kept watch around him, kept watch of the house, too, and made his way to the porch. However, before Holden could even ring the bell, the front door flew open, and he braced himself for what he might see.
But it was only Nicky.
He looked at her, from head to toe. She was wearing jeans and an old concert T-shirt, and had her auburn hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. No visible injuries or signs of distress. She was scowling at him, but over the past year or so, that was the norm whenever she laid eyes on him.
“Didn’t you get my text?” she asked.
“Got it. Ignored it. Because we need to talk.” Holden moved to go around her and inside, but she stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“It’s not a good time.” She paused. “I’m expecting someone.”
All right. That gave him a new theory. Maybe Nicky had a hot date who was on the way over. That might explain the lack of lights if she was aiming for something romantic.
A thought that bothered him a lot more than it should have.
Nicky was an attractive woman. Bullheaded and reckless, too. And she was married to her job as an investigative reporter. That said, she was still human and she probably did have a man in her life.
It still didn’t mean Holden was going to skip that talk with her. He wouldn’t.
Because he needed her to know that she was on the verge of being arrested.
He owed her that much. Barely. After the stunt she’d pulled last year, though, some members of his family might believe he owed her nothing. Still, here he was. He didn’t play Mr. Nice Guy very often, and he hoped he didn’t regret it this time.
“Tomorrow, you’ll get a visit from an FBI agent,” he told her.
Nicky didn’t even blink. “I don’t have time for this.” And she would have shut the door in his face, if Holden hadn’t blocked it with his foot. The edge of the door smacked against his cowboy boot.
“Make time,” he snarled.
She blew out a quick breath. “Look, I know you’re still in love with me,” she said, “but you have to leave.”
Holden tightened the grip on his gun. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. Because there was no way in hell he was in love with Nicky, and she knew it, too.
She shook her head, just a little, and glanced at the hold that he had on his gun. Was she telling him not to draw? Or was that head shake about something else?
Holden intended to find out.
But it was best not to confront this head-on. Because the living room behind her was dark, he couldn’t tell if there was someone waiting in the shadows. Someone armed and ready to kill her. Or maybe she’d discovered her house was bugged and she didn’t want to say anything incriminating.
Holden hoped it was the second option.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Holden lied. “And we will talk then.”
Leaving was a risk—anything he did at this point could be. But Holden hoped if there was someone inside that it was a good sign that the person had let Nicky answer the door. The person didn’t want her dead.
Not yet anyway.
In her quest to get info on a story she was working on, she could have gotten herself mixed up with some very dangerous people, and that involvement might be coming back to bite her. To bite him, too, since Holden had to see what was going on. This was well past being a nice guy.
This had just become the job.
He drove his truck up a block, parked and fired off a quick text to his cousin Landon, who was now a deputy in Silver Creek. Holden didn’t request backup but told Landon that if he didn’t hear from him in fifteen minutes, to send some help—fast.
With that done, Holden hurried to Nicky’s house. Not going through the front yard but rather through the back. The houses in the small neighborhood didn’t have fences, but there were plenty of mature trees that he ducked behind and used for cover. The darkness helped, too, and for once he was glad Nicky didn’t have all the lights blazing.
Holden knew the layout of her house. He’d even spent the night there a couple of times, and he knew the best way to approach this wasn’t through the back porch. Instead, he drew his gun and went to the French doors off her bedroom.
Unlocked.
He silently cursed. Since Nicky was afraid of the dark, you’d think she would be equally concerned with locking up, but Holden knew she could be lax about that.
He eased open the door, slipped into her bedroom and stood there. Listening. He didn’t hear anything at first, only someone moving around in the living room where he’d last seen Nicky.
“You’d better be sure he doesn’t come back,” someone said. A man. And Holden didn’t recognize his voice.
In case this was a lover she was meeting, Holden waited for more. He didn’t have to wait very long.
“If that marshal does come back, I’ll kill him,” the man growled.
Hell. So, probably not a lover unless it was some jealous nut-job. Holden sent a second text to Landon requesting that backup, and he made his way to the bedroom door and then into the hall.
The house was old and had creaky floors in spots. He prayed he didn’t step on one of those because he wanted to get the drop on whoever it was that had just threatened to kill him.
“The marshal won’t be back,” Nicky assured the man. “Not until tomorrow anyway.”
“He said the FBI was coming. Your doing?” her visitor demanded.
“Hardly. The FBI will be looking for the same thing you want. Something I don’t have.”
Holden didn’t know specifically what she was talking about, but it might have something to do with her latest project. A state senator who’d been missing over two weeks. Nicky had been investigating his disappearance and had cut some corners. Ones that could land her in jail.
Of course, at the moment that seemed to be the least of her worries.
“You have those files all right,” the man argued. “Now, where are they? And don’t try to hold any of them back. I want every file you stole from Conceptions Clinic.”
Everything inside Holden went still.
Conceptions Clinic?
It was the name of the fertility clinic that Holden knew well, and just hearing it brought back some painful memories. Of his brother Emmett and his brother’s wife, Annie. Annie had been Nicky’s sister, and now both Emmett and Annie were dead. Annie had died in a car accident, but that hadn’t been the cause of Emmett’s death.
No. He’d been murdered only months after Annie’s death. His killer was dead, but that didn’t soften the blow for Holden. Emmett wasn’t coming back from the grave just because the Rylands had managed to get justice for him.
Before their deaths, Emmett and Annie made multiple trips to Conceptions Fertility Clinic in San Antonio with the hopes of finally getting the baby they so desperately wanted. But that hadn’t happened. Because they’d both died before the process could be completed.
So, why would Nicky steal files from the place now?
“You’re either going to give those files to me now, or I’ll start putting bullets in you,” the man warned her. “I won’t kill you, yet, but I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
Every word of that threat put Holden on higher and higher alert, and he had to move fast.
Still trying to keep quiet, Holden hurried to the end of the hall and peered into the living room. Nicky was still by the front door, and there was a man between Holden and her. And yeah, the guy had a gun pointed right at her.
Nicky didn’t say a word, but her eyes widened just a fraction when she saw Holden, and the man must have noticed even her slight reaction. He pivoted, taking aim at Holden.
The thug fired.
Not a loud blast. He was using a silencer on his gun.
Holden jumped out of the way just in time, and the bullet tore through a chunk of the wall.
“Get down,” Holden shouted to Nicky, but she was already doing just that.
She scrambled behind the sofa. It wouldn’t give her much cover, but Holden was counting on this moron shooting at him instead of her.
And that’s just what he did.
The gunman ducked down beside a chair and fired another shot at Holden. Then, another. The shots wouldn’t be loud enough to get the attention of the neighbors, which was a good thing. Holden didn’t want bystanders hurrying over to Nicky’s house to check on this.
Whatever this was.
“You want him to die?” the man barked. “Because that’s what’ll happen if you don’t tell him to get the hell out of here.”
Holden wasn’t going anywhere. He dropped lower to the ground, leaned out and fired a shot at the guy. However, before Holden could even tell if he’d hit him, all hell broke loose.
There was the sound of something metal clanking onto the floor, and a few seconds later, tear gas began to spew through the room. The effects were instant. Holden’s gray eyes burned like fire, and he started to cough. He could hear Nicky having a coughing fit, too.
But not the man.
Maybe he’d brought a gas mask or something because Holden heard him take off running, and saw him bolt out the back door.
Even though he was coughing too hard to catch his breath, Holden hurried after the guy, but he’d only made it a few steps when Nicky called out to him.
“Let him go. We have to leave now.” Covering her mouth with her hand, she staggered her way to him, caught him by the wrist and led him toward the side entrance to the garage.
“Landon will be here soon,” he choked out.
“We don’t have time to wait around for him. Please, we need to go.”
Holden didn’t fight her as they’d gone into the garage because he welcomed the fresh air. Also welcomed getting into her car since he didn’t want to be standing out in the open with that gunman still out there. But he did clamp his hand over hers when she tried to drive away.
“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded. “Who was that man and what files did you steal?”
Nicky shook her head, fighting to get his grip off her, but Holden held on.
“The people at Conceptions Clinic did some very bad things. There are babies in danger,” Nicky said, her breath shivering. “And one of them is our nephew.”
