“That can’t happen! I can’t be in that kind of danger.”

Weston tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. Hard to do, though, with the emotions swirling like a tornado inside him. “I’m sorry. If there was another way to stop him, then I wouldn’t have come here. I know I don’t have a right to ask, but I need your help.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? You must want this killer off the street. It’s the only way you’ll ever be truly safe.”

Addie opened her mouth. Closed it. And she stared at him. “I’d planned on telling you. Not like this.”

There was a new emotion in her voice and on her face. One that Weston couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Tell me what?” he asked.

She dragged in a long breath and straightened her shoulders. “I can’t be bait for the Moonlight Strangler because I can’t risk being hurt.” Addie took another deep breath. “I’m three months pregnant. And the baby is yours.”

Lone Wolf

Lawman

Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She was also a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net.

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Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Addie Crockett heard the footsteps behind her a split second too late.

Before she could even turn around and see who was in the hall outside her home office, someone grabbed her.

She managed a strangled sound, barely. But the person slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that bubbled up in her throat.

Oh, mercy.

What was going on?

This was obviously some kind of attack, but Addie wouldn’t just let this person hurt her. Or worse. She rammed her elbow into her attacker’s stomach, but it did nothing to break the grip he had on her.

“Stop,” he snapped. “I won’t hurt you.”

Addie wasn’t taking his word for it. She turned, using his own grip to shove him against the wall and into an angel Christmas wreath. The painted wooden angels went flying. But not the man.

Addie tried to get his hand off her mouth so she could call out for help. Then she remembered her brothers weren’t at the ranch. Two were still at work, and the other was Christmas shopping in San Antonio. Only her mother was inside the house, and she had a sprained ankle. Addie didn’t want her mother to come hobbling into the middle of this.

Whatever this was.

“Stop,” he repeated when she kept struggling. His voice was a hoarse whisper, and he dragged her from the hall into her office.

Addie gave him another jab of her elbow and would have delivered a third one if the man hadn’t cursed. She hadn’t recognized his order for her to stop, but she certainly recognized his voice now.

Wes Martin.

The relief collided with the slam of adrenaline, and it took Addie a moment to force herself to stop fighting so she could turn around and face him. Even though the sun was already close to setting and the lights weren’t on in her office, there was enough illumination from the hall to see his black hair. His face. His eyes.

Yes, it was Wes all right.

The relief she’d felt didn’t last long at all.

“What are you doing here?” Addie demanded. “And how’d you get in the house?” Those were only the first of many questions, and how much else she told him depended on what he had to say in the next couple of seconds.

He didn’t jump to start those answers. Wes stood there staring at her as if she were a stranger. Well, she wasn’t. And he knew that better than anyone. He’d seen every last inch of her.

Ditto for her seeing every last inch of him.

And despite the fact that it was the last thing Addie wanted in her head at this moment, the memories came of Wes naked and of her in his arms. Thankfully, he wasn’t naked now. He was wearing jeans, a button-up shirt and a tan cowboy hat.

But there was something different about this cowboy outfit.

Beneath his jacket, he was wearing a waist holster and a gun.

“I came in through the side door.” He tipped his head toward the hall. “It wasn’t locked.”

That wasn’t unusual. Because the ranch hands—and the family—were often coming and going. They rarely locked up the house until bedtime. Even then, that was hit-or-miss since security wasn’t usually an issue.

Until now, that was.

“I didn’t see your car,” she said, and since she’d just come in from the main barn, Addie would have seen any unfamiliar vehicles in the circular driveway in front of the house.

“I parked just off the main road and walked up. I’m sorry,” he added, following her gaze to his gun. “But I had to come.”

That didn’t answer her other question as to why he was there, and Addie wasn’t sure if she just wanted to send him packing or try to figure out what the heck was going on.

She went with the first option.

Wes had crushed her heart six ways to Sunday, and there was no need for her to give him another chance to hurt her again.

“You’re leaving,” Addie insisted, and she turned around to head to the hall so she could usher him right back out the side door.

She didn’t get far because he took hold of her arm again. Not the tight grip he’d had before, but it was enough to keep her in place. And enough to rile her even more. “Let go of me.”

“I can’t.” Wes opened his mouth, but any explanation he was about to give her ground to a halt. “We have to talk,” he added after a very long pause.

“And you had to sneak in here and grab me to do that? You could have called.”

“I had to see you in person, and I grabbed you because I didn’t want you shouting out for someone. I didn’t want to get shot before you listen to what I have to tell you. And you have to listen.”

It was partly her bruised ego reacting, but Addie huffed, folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You slept with me three months ago and then disappeared without so much as an email. Why should I listen to anything you have to say, huh?”

Still no quick answer. Probably because there wasn’t one. Not one she’d want to hear anyway. But what she did want to hear was why he had on that gun holster that looked as if he’d been born to wear it. Also, why hadn’t she been able to find out anything about him online?

Everything inside her went still.

“Who are you, really?” she asked.

Another long pause. “I’m not the man you think I am.”

A burst of air left her mouth. Definitely not laughter. “Clearly. Now tell me something I don’t know.”

The hurt came hard and fast. Addie felt as if someone had put a vise around her heart. The tears quickly followed, too, and she tried hard to blink them away. No way did she want this man to see her cry.

“I’m sorry.” He added more of that profanity and reached out as if he might pull her into his arms.

Addie put a stop to that. She batted his hands away. “You knew how vulnerable I was when you slept with me.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “You’d recently found out your birth father was a serial killer.”

There it was, all wrapped up into one neat little summary. Stripped down to bare bones with no details. But the devil was in those details.

Well, one devil anyway.

Her biological father.

“Is everything you told me about your childhood the truth?” he asked.

She hadn’t thought Wes could say anything that would surprise her, or stop her from forcing him to leave, but that did it. Addie just stared at him.

“When you were three, some ranch hands found you in the woods near here,” Wes went on, obviously recapping details she already knew all too well. “You said you didn’t remember your name, how you got there or anything about your past. You don’t remember how you got that.”

Before she could stop him, he brushed his fingers over her cheek. Over the small crescent-shaped scar that was there. It was faint now, just a thin whitish line next to her left eye, but Wes had obviously noticed it.

Addie flinched, backing away from him. What the heck was going on?

“Is all of that true?” he repeated.

Addie mustered up another huff and tried not to react to his touch. Wes didn’t deserve a reaction. Too bad her body didn’t understand that. Of course, her body was betraying her a lot lately.

“It’s all true,” she insisted.

For thirty years, Addie had tried not to think of herself as that wounded little girl in the woods with a cut on her face. Because she hadn’t stayed there.

Thanks to Sheriff Sherman Crockett and his wife, Iris.

When no one had come forward to claim her after she’d been found, Sherman and Iris had adopted her, raised her along with their four sons on their Appaloosa Pass Ranch. They’d given her a name. A family. A wonderful life.

Until three months ago. Then, there’d been the DNA match that no one wanted. That’s when her world was turned upside down.

“Why did your adoptive father put your DNA in the database when he found you?” Wes asked.

Again, it was another question she hadn’t seen coming. Her adoptive father had been killed in the line of duty when she was just twelve, so she couldn’t ask him directly, but Addie could guess why.

“Because he could have simply been looking to see if I matched anyone in the system. But I believe he wanted to find the birth parents who’d abandoned me and make them pay.” That required a deep breath. “I’m positive he had no idea it’d lead to a killer.”

And not just any old killer, either, but the Moonlight Strangler. He’d killed at least sixteen women, and fifteen of those crime scenes hadn’t had a trace of his DNA. But three months ago number sixteen had. And while the DNA wasn’t a match to any criminal already in the system, it had been a match to the killer’s blood kin.

Addie.

Wes took her by the shoulders, forcing eye contact. “The Moonlight Strangler’s really your father?”

It took Addie a moment to realize that it was actually a question. “Yes, according to the DNA match, he is. But Sherman Crockett was my father in the only way that will ever matter.”

If only that were true.

Addie wanted it to be true. Desperately wanted it. But it was hard to push aside that she shared the blood and DNA of a serial killer.

“I need to hear it from you,” Wes said. Not an order exactly. But it was close. “Is everything you said true? Do you have any memory whatsoever of why you were in those woods or who put you there?”

Addie threw up her hands. “Of course not. The FBI has questioned me over and over again. They even had me hypnotized, and I remembered exactly what I’d already told everyone. Nothing.”

She had no idea why Wes was asking these things, but it was time for Addie to turn the tables on him.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “And why are you here?”

His grip melted off her shoulders, and now it was Wes who moved away from her. “My real name is Weston Cade, and I’m a Texas Ranger.”

Addie had to replay that several times before it sank in. After learning she was the daughter of a serial killer and having Wes leave without so much as a goodbye, she hadn’t exactly had a rosy outlook on life. She’d braced herself in case Wes was about to confess that he, too, was some kind of criminal. But this revelation wasn’t nearly as bad as the ones she had imagined.

“A Texas Ranger,” she repeated. Addie shook her head. “You told me your name was Wes Martin and that you were a rodeo rider.”

“Martin is my middle name, and I was a rodeo rider. Before I became a Ranger.”

Her mouth tightened. “And I was a child before I became an adult. That doesn’t make me a child now. You lied to me.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I didn’t want you to know who I was and that I was investigating the Moonlight Strangler.”

She stared at him, waiting for more. More that he didn’t volunteer. “You were investigating him when you met me three months ago?”

No gaze-dodging this time. Wes, or rather Weston, looked her straight in the eyes. “I met you because I was looking for him. I followed you while you were in San Antonio, and after your interview with the FBI I followed you to the hotel where you were staying. I knew exactly who you were when I introduced myself at the bar.”

That hit her like a heavyweight’s punch, and Addie staggered back.

The memories of that first meeting were still so fresh in her mind. She’d been shaken to the core after the interview with the FBI, and even though her mother and one of her brothers had made the trip to San Antonio with her, she had asked for some alone time. And had ended up at the hotel bar.

Where she’d met Wes, a rodeo rider.

Or so she’d thought.

The attraction had been instant. Intense. Something Addie had never quite felt before. Of course, that intensity had dulled her instincts because she had believed with all her heart that this was a man who understood her. A man she could trust.

That was laughable now.

“Were you trying to get information from me?” she asked, recalling all the words—the lies, no doubt—he’d told her that night.

A muscle flickered in his jaw.

Then Weston nodded.

She groaned, and now Addie was the one who cursed. “And you came back to the bar again the next night, after I’d been through the hypnosis. You knew I was an emotional wreck. You knew I was hanging by a thread, and yet you took me to your room and had sex with me. Not just that night, either, but the following night, too.”

“That was never part of the plan,” he said.

“The plan?” she snapped. “Well, your plan had consequences.” Addie had another battle with tears, but thankfully she still managed to speak. “Leave now!”

Of course he didn’t budge. Weston stayed put and took hold of her arm when she tried to bolt from the office.

The phone on her desk rang, the sound shooting through the room. Addie gasped before she realized that it wasn’t the threat that her body was preparing itself for. The threat was in her office and had hold of her.

“Ignore that call. There are things you need to know,” he insisted. “Things that might save your life.”

That stopped Addie in her tracks, and she did indeed ignore the call. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t get a chance to answer because she heard another sound. Her mother’s voice.

“Addie?” her mother called out. It sounded as if she was in the kitchen at the back of the house. “I picked up the phone when you didn’t answer. It’s about those mares you wanted to buy.”

It was a call that Addie had been waiting on. An important one. Since she helped manage the ranch and the livestock, it was her job. But she was afraid her job would have to wait.

“Tell her to take a message,” Weston instructed.

Addie wanted to tell him a flat-out no. She didn’t want to obey orders from this lying Texas Ranger who’d taken her to his bed with the notion of getting information she didn’t even have.

“Why should I?” she snarled.

“Because you’re in danger. Your mother could be, too.”

Addie had been certain that there was nothing Weston could say that would make her agree to his order.

Nothing except that.

“Mom,” Addie said after a serious debate with herself. “Take a message. I’ll return the call soon.”

She hoped.

“Start talking,” Addie told Weston. “Tell me exactly what’s going on.”

But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he started to unbutton his shirt.

Either he’d lost his mind, or...

It was or.

Addie saw the scar on his chest. The long jagged cut that wasn’t nearly as faded and healed as the one on her face. It was one that she’d already noticed the night they’d landed in bed together. Weston had told her he’d been hooked by a bull’s horn at a rodeo.

“The Moonlight Strangler did this to me,” Weston said. “Your father nearly killed me.”

Oh, God.

“You know who my birth father is?” She couldn’t ask that fast enough.

“No. I didn’t see his face. And I didn’t have any leads to his identity until I found out the results of your DNA test.”

Addie’s heart was pounding now. Her breath thin. “You thought he’d come to me?”

Weston nodded. “I counted on it. I know your DNA match was supposed to be kept quiet, but I figured if I could find out about it, then so could the killer.”

It took her a moment to gather her voice. “You leaked my DNA results?” She shoved Weston away from her and would have bolted, but, like before, he held on.

“No,” he insisted. “But someone might have. Maybe a dirty cop or someone in the crime lab who was paid off.”

“Or it could have been you. And to think, I slept with you, not just that one night, either, but the following night, too. I...” Addie stopped because there was no way she would give him another emotional piece of herself. “You used me as bait.”

Her voice hardly had sound now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling every inch of the proverbial knife he’d stuck in her back.

“No,” Weston repeated. “But someone did. And it worked.”

There went the rest of her breath. “Who? How?”

Weston shook his head. “I don’t know the who or the how, but I know the results.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “Addie, you’re the Moonlight Strangler’s next target.”

Chapter Two

Weston waited for Addie’s reaction, and he didn’t have to wait long.

She shook her head, her bottom lip trembling just a little before she clamped her teeth over it. It only took a few seconds for Addie to process what Weston had just told her.

And to dismiss it.

“Why should I believe anything you say?” she asked.

Weston had no trouble hearing the hurt in her voice. No trouble hearing the anger, too. Yes, he was responsible for both, and while he’d never intended to hurt Addie, he also hadn’t wanted a serial killer to have free rein to keep on killing. Too bad he’d failed.

Addie was indeed hurt.

And the killer was still out there.

Of course, Addie knew that better than anyone else: her own sister-in-law had been one of the Moonlight Strangler’s victims.

“I’m sorry,” Weston said, knowing his words wouldn’t be worth much. “But it’s true. I have proof the Midnight Strangler’s coming after you, and we need to talk about that.”

Judging from the way her eyes narrowed, he’d been right about that apology not meaning much.

Addie didn’t jump to ask about his proof.

Her blond hair was gathered into a ponytail, but she swiped away the strands that’d fallen onto her face during their scuffle, and she whirled around so that she was no longer facing him. At least she didn’t try to make a run out of her office again, but she might do just that before this conversation was over.

Even though it had only been three months since Weston had seen her, she’d changed plenty. He had watched her for about a half hour before he’d gotten the chance to pull her into the office for a private chat. When she was in the barn earlier, Addie had been working with one of the horses, and she had actually smiled a time or two. She looked content. Happy, even.

Definitely something he hadn’t seen when she was in San Antonio.

There, she’d been wearing dresses more suited for office work than the jeans and denim shirt she was wearing now. And she definitely hadn’t been happy or smiling during their chats at the bar and in his hotel room.

No.

Most of the time, she’d been on the verge of losing it, and had been trying to come to terms with learning exactly who she was. Weston certainly hadn’t helped with the situation by sleeping with her.

After several long moments, she turned back around to face him. In the same motion, she took out her phone from her jeans pocket. “I’m calling Jericho.”

Jericho, her oldest adopted brother. He was also the sheriff in the nearby town of Appaloosa Pass, the job once held by her late father. Weston definitely didn’t want to tangle with any of the Crockett lawmen, not just yet anyway, so that’s why he reached for her phone.

“I want to find out who you really are,” Addie snapped. “And you’re not going to stop me from doing that.”

It was a risk in case she tried to get her brother to arrest him or something, but Weston decided to see how this played out. Eventually, he’d have to deal with Jericho anyway. It was a meeting he wasn’t exactly looking forward to since Jericho had a reputation for being a badass, no-shades-of-gray kind of lawman.

“Jericho,” Addie said when her brother answered. She put the call on speaker. “I need a favor. Can you check and see if there’s a Texas Ranger by the name of Weston Cade?”

Weston heard Jericho’s brief silence. Was he suspicious? Definitely. But the question was—what would Jericho do about it? If he came storming back to the house, it might trigger something Weston didn’t want triggered.

“Why?” her brother asked her.

“Just do it,” Addie insisted, “please.” She sounded more like an annoyed sister than a woman whose lip had been trembling just moments earlier.

More silence from Jericho, followed by some mumblings, but Weston did hear the clicks of a computer keyboard.

“Yeah, he’s a Ranger in the San Antonio unit,” her brother verified. “Why?” Jericho repeated, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “And does he have anything to do with that SOB scumbag you met in San Antonio, the one who slept with you and—”

“I’ll call you back,” Addie interrupted, and she hung up. She dodged his gaze when she slid her phone back into her pocket.

Weston doubted she’d put a quick end to that call for his sake, but it did give him a glimpse of what she’d been going through for three months. She had obviously told Jericho about her brief affair with a man who’d seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth, and her brother clearly didn’t have a high opinion of him.

SOB scumbag.

Well, the label fit. Weston didn’t have a high opinion of himself, either, and he hadn’t in a very long time.

Addie wouldn’t believe that he had plenty of regrets when it came to her. After all his lies, she would never believe that he’d fallen in bed with her only because of the intense attraction he had felt for her.

An attraction he still felt.

Still, he shouldn’t have acted on it. He should have just kept his distance and tailed her until her father made his move, no matter how long that took.

“Start from the beginning,” Addie insisted, turning her attention back to Weston. “And so help me, every word coming out of your mouth had better be the truth, or I’ll let Jericho have a go at you. I don’t make a habit of letting my big brother fight my battles for me, but in your case I’ll make an exception.”

Weston figured that wasn’t a bluff.

The beginning required him to take a deep breath. “Two years ago I went to my fiancée’s office to see her. I’d just come off an undercover assignment and hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. Her name was Collette, and I walked in on someone murdering her.”

Hell, it hurt to say that aloud. It didn’t set well with Addie, either, because she made a slight gasping sound.

“It was my birth father,” she supplied. “I saw a list of his known victims. All sixteen of them, and Collette Metcalf was one of them.”

Weston nodded, and it took him a moment to trust his voice again. “I didn’t know it was him at the time, and I didn’t get a look at his face because he knifed me and ran out. I obviously survived, but Collette wasn’t so lucky. She died by the time the ambulance arrived.”

She touched her fingers to her mouth. It was trembling again, and Addie leaned against the edge of her desk, no doubt for support. “Your name wasn’t in the reports I read of the murders.”

“No. The FBI and Rangers thought it best if they didn’t make it public. They didn’t want him coming after me to tie up loose ends. The killer hadn’t gotten a good look at my face because I was still wearing my undercover disguise. But he must have found out who I was because letters from the Moonlight Strangler started arriving three months ago.”

“Three months?” she repeated under her breath.

Addie no doubt picked up on the timing. Weston doubted it was a coincidence that the letters started arriving shortly after he met her.

“The killer mentions me in these letters?” she asked, and Weston had to nod.

That meant the Moonlight Strangler had perhaps already been watching Addie and had seen Weston with her. Or maybe the killer had been watching him. Either way, Weston figured the killer had started sending those letters because he knew about Addie and him sleeping together.

“All the letters and envelopes were typed,” Weston continued, “so there’s no handwriting to be analyzed. No fibers or trace on any of them. They were mailed from various locations all over the state.”

Addie shook her head. “How can you be sure they’re from the killer?”

“Because there are details in them that were withheld from the press. Details that only the Moonlight Strangler would know.”

She stayed quiet a moment. “The letters threatened you?”

“Taunted me,” Weston corrected. With details of Collette’s murder...and other things. I tried to draw the killer out. I made sure my address was public. I put out the word through criminal informants that I wanted to meet with him, but he wouldn’t come after me.”

“You made yourself bait,” Addie corrected.

“Plenty of times.”

Weston had failed at that, too.

“The killer’s never contacted me,” she said. “Of course I’ve been worried...scared,” Addie corrected, “that he would. Or that he would do even more than just contact me.” She paused. “How did you find out I was his biological daughter?”

“I was keeping tabs on anything to do with the Moonlight Strangler. As a Texas Ranger, I have access to the DNA databases, and I’d hoped there’d be a DNA match to someone.”

Her next breath was mixed with a sigh. “And there was. Then, because you’d found out I was his biological daughter, you...what?” No more sighing. Her eyes narrowed. “You thought he’d want to connect with the child he abandoned in the woods nearly thirty years ago?”

Her anger was back. Good. It was actually easier for him to deal with than the fear and hurt. But unfortunately, he was going to have to tell her something that would bring the fear back with a vengeance.

“Yesterday, I got this.” Weston took the paper from his pocket and turned on the light so she could better see it. “It’s the eighth letter he’s sent me. It’s a copy, not the original, so it’s okay for you to handle it.”

She didn’t take it at first. Addie just volleyed glances between him and the paper before she finally eased it out of his hand, taking it only by the corner as if she didn’t want to touch too much of it.

Since Weston knew every word that was written there, he watched Addie’s reaction. The shock.

And yes, the fear.

“‘Tell Addie that it’s time for me to end what I started thirty years ago,’” she read aloud. She paused. “‘I can’t have a little girl’s memories coming back to haunt me.’”

Her gaze skirted over the words again. She cleared her throat before her gaze came back to his.

“This is why you asked if I remembered anything,” Addie said. “I don’t,” she quickly added.

“And you don’t remember that?” He tipped his head to the scar on her cheek.

“No.” She handed him back the letter. “Did he cut the other women he killed like this?”

Weston settled for a nod. “That was kept out of the reports to the press, too. Only a handful of people know that he cut them first. Then strangled them.”

“I see.” Her mouth tightened a moment. “I’d always hoped I got the scar from a tree branch or something.”

Yes, since that was far better than the alternative. Because that scar on her face meant the Moonlight Strangler had already gone after her once. When she was just three years old.

Now he was coming for her again.

“The killer could be worried that you remembered something in that hypnosis session,” Weston said. “Or that you might remember something in the future. The FBI wants to do more sessions with you, right?”

She nodded, confirming what he already knew. Nearly every law enforcement agency in the state as well as the FBI wanted to keep pressing her to remember.

“We don’t have much time,” Weston continued. “He usually strikes on the night of a full or half moon. Like tonight.”

Her attention drifted to the window where she could see that the sun was only minutes away from setting. Something else flashed through her eyes. Not fear this time. But major concern.

“My mother’s in the house. And the ranch hands—”

Weston stepped in front of her to keep her from leaving. “They’re okay. For now. It’s you he wants, and, other than me, he hasn’t attacked or hurt anyone else when he murdered his victims.”

Of course, since Addie was his daughter, the killer might make a really big exception. That was what Weston had to guard against.

She frantically shook her head. “Has he ever named victims before he killed them?”

“Never.”

“Then you have no way of knowing that he won’t go after my mother. Heck, my entire family.” A clipped sob tore from her throat. “I can’t let him get to them.”

“I’ve already arranged for someone to watch the road leading to the ranch. I won’t let him hurt them.” Weston hoped that was a promise he could keep. He didn’t have a good track record when it came to stopping this vicious killer.

“Who?” she pressed.

“Friends I can trust. I didn’t want to involve the Rangers in this because I’m trying to set a trap for the killer, and I didn’t want him hearing about it. But these friends are armed, and they’ll let me know if he tries to get to you.”

That was part of the plan anyway.

But not all of it.

“I don’t just want to scare off the Moonlight Strangler,” Weston explained. “I want to catch him. Tonight.”

Addie froze. Then her breath shivered. “You want to use me to draw him out.”

“Yes.” Hard for Weston to admit that, but it was the truth. “We know he’ll probably come here, and since he doesn’t know that I’ve contacted you—”

“What if the letter is a hoax?” she interrupted. “I mean, why tell you what he’s going to do? He must know that as a Texas Ranger you’d try to warn me.”

“That’s not the only reason I would have warned you.” Judging from the hard look she gave him, she didn’t believe it.

He took out the copy of the second letter. “It came the same time as the other one, but it was a different envelope.” Weston unfolded it, held it up for Addie to see. “If you try to save Addie, I’ll kill Isabel and you,” he read.

“Isabel?” she asked.

“My kid sister. She’s in medical school. I’ve already had her put in protective custody. Now the next step is doing the same for you, but that’s why I snuck onto the ranch. I didn’t want the killer to know I’d come here. It might have provoked him or sent him into a rage.”

Not that a serial killer didn’t already have enough rage. Still, Weston had wanted to try to control the situation as much as he could.

The silence came. Addie, staring at him. Obviously trying to make sense of this. He wanted to tell her there was nothing about this that made sense because they were dealing with a very dangerous, very crazy man.

“Oh, God,” she finally said.

Now her fear was sky-high, and Weston held his breath. He didn’t expect Addie to go blindly along with a plan to stop her father. But she did want to stop the Moonlight Strangler from claiming another victim.

Weston was counting heavily on that.

However, Addie shook her head. “I can’t help you.”

That sure wasn’t the reaction Weston had expected. He’d figured Addie was as desperate to end this as he was.

She squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “I’ll get my mother, and we can go to the sheriff’s office. Two of my brothers are there, and they can make sure this monster stays far away from us.”

“You’ll be safe at the sheriff’s office,” Weston agreed, “but you can’t stay there forever. Neither can your family. Eventually, you’ll have to leave, and the killer will come after you.”

“That can’t happen!” Addie groaned and looked up at the ceiling as if she expected some kind of divine help. “I can’t be in that kind of danger.”

Weston tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. Hard to do, though, with the emotions swirling like a tornado inside him. “I’m sorry. If there was another way to stop him, then I wouldn’t have come here. I know I don’t have a right to ask, but I need your help.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Convince me why,” Weston snapped. “Because I’m not getting this. You must want this killer off the street. It’s the only way you’ll ever be truly safe.”

Addie opened her mouth. Closed it. And she stared at him. “I’d planned on telling you. Not like this. But if I ever saw you again, I intended to tell you.”

There was a new emotion in her voice and on her face. One that Weston couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Tell me what?” he asked.

She dragged in a long breath and straightened her shoulders. “I can’t be bait for the Moonlight Strangler because I can’t risk being hurt.” Addie took another deep breath. “I’m three months pregnant. And the baby is yours.”

Chapter Three

Addie figured this was the worst way possible a man could find out that he’d fathered a child.

But she hadn’t exactly had a choice about the timing of the news. Weston had come here to drop a bombshell that he wanted to use her to catch a killer, that the killer was actually after her, but she’d delivered her own bombshell.

And it had stunned him to silence.

Weston just stared at her for a very long time, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. This pregnancy changed everything.

At least it had for Addie.

Maybe it would for Weston, too.

Change him in a way that wouldn’t put her in danger. Three months ago, she would have been willing to do whatever it took to catch the Moonlight Strangler. Weston obviously felt the same way. Especially since the killer had murdered a woman he loved. But even though the killer had murdered her brother’s wife, Addie couldn’t allow herself to be used in this justice net.

Unless...

“Can you guarantee me that the baby wouldn’t be hurt?” However, she waved off the question as soon as she asked it. “You and I both know you can’t. The Moonlight Strangler’s smart. He’s been killing and evading the law for three decades, maybe more, and he might have already figured out a way to get around you so he could come after me.”

Heck, the killer might have figured out a way to use Weston. Too bad Addie couldn’t think of how he’d done that, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way, either. This had to end.

But how?

“You’re pregnant,” Weston said under his breath. He groaned, and this time he was the one to do the stepping away.

She couldn’t blame him for being stunned. The truth was, Addie had been pretty darn stunned herself when she’d first learned the news. She had always wanted children and figured that one day she would be a mom. She just hadn’t thought it would happen like this, with her being unmarried and with the baby’s father disappearing.

Weston shook his head. “But we used protection.”

Ironic that she had said the exact same thing to the doctor when he’d confirmed the pregnancy test results. That day, she’d said a lot of things, including some profanity in regards to Weston.

“Obviously, protection’s not a hundred percent. Don’t worry,” Addie quickly added. “I was going to tell you if I ever managed to locate you, but I don’t need anything from you, including child support. Or any other kind of support for that matter. As far as I’m concerned, you won’t be a part of this.”

The look he gave her could have blasted a giant hole through the moon. Weston’s eyes went to slits, and the muscles in his face turned to iron. “It’s my baby. I’ll be a part of this.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“I’ll be part of his or her life,” he insisted.

All right. She hadn’t exactly counted on that reaction. “After you ran out on me, I figured...”

Considering that his eyes narrowed even more, it was probably best not to finish spelling out that she didn’t believe him to be the sort who stuck around. Even for his own child.

And then it hit her.

Addie really didn’t know him. Didn’t know anything real about his life because of all the lies he’d told her.

“Are you married?” she asked.

That didn’t do much to help with those narrowed eyes. “No. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I’d been married.”

She let that hum between them, but hopefully he understood what she was thinking. A man who’d lie and then have sex with a troubled woman didn’t exactly have a stellar moral compass.

“And no, I’m not involved with anyone,” he went on. “Not now, and not when I was with you.”

“Why did you sleep with me?” she demanded.

Mercy, she wanted to kick herself for blurting that out. Not because she didn’t want to know the truth.

She did.

But Addie was a thousand percent certain that she wasn’t up to hearing it spelled out now. Not with all the other news that Weston had just delivered.

Now he looked at her, and that wasn’t a glare in his smoky brown eyes.

Nope.

It was a look he’d given her many times over the three days when they’d been together. It was something she felt right after she first met him.

Something she didn’t want to feel, but Addie felt it again anyway.

The heat came like a touch. Barely a brush against her skin. But it rippled through her. Gently. At first. Until the ripple became a tug and made her recall exactly why she’d landed in bed with Weston.

“Yeah,” he said. “Remember now?”

Since a lie would stick in her throat, Addie settled for a nod. “But I slept with you only because of the attraction. Can you say the same?”

No quick answer. Not verbally anyway, but she got another glare from him. She’d always thought Jericho was the king of glares and surly expressions, but right now Weston had her brother beat by a mile.

“Like I said, that wasn’t part of the plan,” Weston finally repeated. “It just...happened.”

She had the feeling he’d intended to say something else, but it was best if this part of the conversation ended. Addie didn’t need any other reminders of the heat that’d been between them then.

And now.

“Sleeping with me wasn’t part of this grand plan you keep mentioning,” she said, trying to get her thoughts back on track. “But leaving was.”

“I left because of the letters,” Weston clarified, though she didn’t know how he managed to speak through clenched teeth. “The killer warned me to stay away from you.”

Addie hadn’t thought there’d be any more surprises today, but she’d been wrong. Her heartbeat kicked up again, drumming in her ears. “Why did he give you a warning like that?”

“He didn’t want us teaming up to find him,” Weston readily answered. “He said he’d kill you if I stayed. That you’d live if I left.”

That sent another rush of emotions through her. For three months, Addie had dealt with the anger and hurt of having Weston walk out. In the past fifteen minutes, she’d had to deal with the news that her biological father was coming after her.

Now this.

If Weston had indeed left to try to save her, then that put him in a new light. One she wasn’t ready to deal with just yet. After all, he had known who she was when he’d slept with her, and she wasn’t ready to forgive him for that just yet.

Maybe not ever.

As raw as her emotions were and despite the fact Weston was still glaring at her, Addie had to push all that aside. Yes, she’d have to deal with it later, but for now they had a more immediate problem on their hands, and protecting the baby and her family had to come first. That meant making sure she was protected, as well.

Addie didn’t intend to rely on Weston for that.

“I need to tell Jericho about the threatening letters you got,” she said, thinking out loud.

However, she didn’t even get a chance to reach for her phone before she heard the footsteps behind her in the hall. Weston obviously heard them, too, because he moved fast. A lot faster than Addie. He latched on to her arm, dragging her behind him, and in the same motion, he drew his gun.

Just like that, Addie’s heart jumped to her throat, and the danger to her unborn child and family came at her like an avalanche. However, the threat that her body was preparing her for turned out not to be a threat after all.

“Put down that gun, and let go of my daughter,” her mother demanded. She had something to back up that demand, too. Her mother aimed a double-barreled shotgun at Weston.

The relief hit Addie almost as hard as the slam of fear had, so it took her a moment to speak. It wasn’t the killer, but her mother was limping her way toward them. “It’s okay, Mom.”

That wasn’t exactly the truth. Everything was far from being okay, but Addie didn’t want her mother pointing a gun at a Texas Ranger.

Even this Ranger.

Her mother obviously didn’t buy her it’s okay because she didn’t lower the gun, and she continued to volley glances between Weston and Addie. Even though she wasn’t a large woman, and her hair was completely silver-gray, she still managed to look tough as nails.

“Who is he?” her mother asked. But almost immediately her gaze dropped to Addie’s stomach.

“Yes, he’s the baby’s father,” Addie verified. “Mom, this is Weston Cade. Weston, this is my mom, Iris Crockett.”

It seemed silly to make polite introductions at a time like this, but it did get her mother to lower the shotgun. What her mom didn’t do was ease up on the glare she was giving Weston.

“You hurt my daughter,” her mother said.

“I know,” Weston readily admitted. “And I’m sorry.” He, too, put away his gun, sliding it back into his holster.

Her mother didn’t say the words, but her frosty blue eyes let Weston know that his apology alone wouldn’t be nearly good enough. Maybe nothing would be. After all, her mother had no doubt heard Addie’s crying jags and had seen the hurt and sadness.

“How did you get inside?” her mother asked Weston. “I didn’t hear you ring the doorbell, and if you had, I wouldn’t have let you in.”

“He came in with me from the barn,” Addie jumped to answer. Best if her mother didn’t know she’d just been in a partial wrestling match with the man who’d fathered her child. “Weston has bad news. Well, maybe it’s bad. If the letters he got are real, then it’s bad.”

“They’re real,” Weston insisted.

Again, her mother didn’t say anything, but she grasped it right away. “This is about the Moonlight Strangler.” Still limping, she moved protectively to Addie’s side, slipping her left arm around her. “Is he coming after Addie?”

That was something both she and her mother had no doubt asked themselves dozens of times, but they’d never spoken of it.

Too frightening to consider aloud.

Of course, Addie had taken precautions. Always looking over her shoulder. Always on guard for her biological father to make some kind of contact. Or try to murder her. But after three months of the precautions, Addie had thought she was safe.

“I need to talk to Jericho,” Addie said, taking out her phone. “I’ll have him come home right away. Jax, too.”

She almost explained to Weston that Jax was a deputy in Appaloosa Pass, but there was probably little about her and her family that he didn’t already know. Well, with the exception of the pregnancy, but then there were only six people who’d known about that: her mother, her four brothers and the doctor.

“I’ll alert the ranch hands so they can all get inside the bunkhouse,” her mother added.

But Weston took hold of both their arms before either of them could make those calls. “If the Moonlight Strangler suspects you’re on to him, he won’t come here.”

Her mother gave a crisp nod. “Good!”

“Not good.” Addie groaned. “Because he might try to go after Weston’s sister. Or he’ll just wait to attack again.”

Weston was right. They couldn’t live at the sheriff’s office or stay locked up in the house. They had a huge ranch to run. Plus, there was the baby. Addie didn’t want her child to be a prisoner because they had had the bad luck to wind up in the wrong gene pool.

“So, what do we do?” Addie asked, hating that she didn’t already have a plan. One that didn’t involve Weston and that could ensure her baby wouldn’t be hurt.

Weston opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say a word, Addie’s phone rang. It wasn’t Jericho’s name she saw on the screen, however. It was Teddy McQueen, one of the ranch hands.

“If this is about those mares,” Addie said the moment she answered, “we’ll have to discuss it another time.”

“Addie,” the man said. His voice was barely a whisper.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

For several snail-crawling moments, all she heard was Teddy’s ragged breath. That didn’t help steady her nerves. Weston’s either, because he took the phone from her and jabbed the speaker button.

“I was in the south pasture and spotted someone by the shed there,” Teddy finally continued. “A man. I was about to ask him what he was doing, and he shot me with one of those guns fitted with a silencer. I didn’t even see it until it was too late.”

“Oh, God. Call nine-one-one and get an ambulance,” Addie told her mother, and Iris immediately did that. “Teddy, how bad are you hurt?”

“Not sure. But the bullet’s in my leg so I can’t walk.”

“Just hold on. We’ll get someone out to you,” Addie assured him.

“Tell whoever’s coming to be careful. Real careful. You and Iris, too. I didn’t get a look at the man’s face, but I saw what direction he went.”

Teddy took another long breath. “Addie, you need to watch out. He’s headed straight for the house.”

Chapter Four

Weston’s first instinct was to curse. And to punch himself for not fixing this before the danger was right on Addie’s doorstep.

Why the heck hadn’t his friends warned him?

Later, he’d want an answer to that, but he had to focus on making sure this situation didn’t go from bad to worse. For now, Weston settled for firing off a quick text to one of those friends to warn him that all hell had broken loose.

“How long do we have before the man gets here?” Addie asked the wounded ranch hand.

“He’s on foot, but he’s moving pretty quick. You got fifteen minutes, maybe less.”

Weston figured with the way his luck had been running, it’d be less. That wasn’t enough time for Jericho to make it out to the ranch, but maybe it was enough for Weston’s friends to get onto the grounds and help.

The moment he finished the text, Weston slapped off the lights, pulled Addie’s mom into the office with them and then closed the blinds. “Get down on the floor behind the desk. I’ll go through the house and lock the doors.”

“It’ll go faster if I show you where all the doors are,” Addie insisted.

“Or I could go,” Iris volunteered.

Addie shook her head. “Not with your sore ankle. I can move a lot faster than you can. You wait here and keep watch while I go with Weston.”

Normally, he would have refused her help, but it was a big place even by Texas standards, and he didn’t want to miss an entrance.

“All right.” Iris shifted her shotgun so that it’d be easier for her to use. “I’ll call Jericho. Just hurry and get back here.”

Weston nodded. “Tell the other ranch hands, too, so they’ll get inside and take cover. I also want you to stay away from the windows.”

He wasn’t sure the Moonlight Strangler was into shooting bystanders, but Weston didn’t want to take any chances. Not with Iris. Not with Addie. Especially since she was pregnant with his child.

Later, he’d need to settle that with Addie.

And himself.

Weston figured he’d be asking himself a lot of “what the hell have I done?” questions.

“This way,” Addie said, leading him not to the front of the house but rather the back.

She was focused on the task. Or rather trying to pretend she was. But Weston could still feel the fear coming from her. Could also feel her dodging his gaze. He couldn’t blame her. She probably didn’t want to trust him, but at the moment she had no choice.

“Your friends didn’t see the killer when he shot Teddy,” she said like the accusation that it was.

“Apparently not,” he settled for saying.

“And you still trust them?” Again, an accusation.

“Yeah. With my life.”

She glanced at him, a reminder that he’d trusted them with her life, too. And her mother’s. The glance was well deserved. He had done just that. But both of his friends were former cops and had plenty of equipment that should have detected anyone in those woods surrounding the ranch.

It was obviously a precaution that’d failed big-time.

Addie and he threaded their way through a massive family room, turning off lights and locking two doors there before doing the same to yet three more off the kitchen and adjoining dining room. Even though Christmas was still three weeks away, everything was decorated for the holiday. Trees, wreaths and other decorations were in almost every room.

“My mother goes a little overboard. She loves Christmas,” Addie said.

Maybe because Addie had been found nearly thirty years ago on Christmas Eve. From everything Weston had uncovered, Iris had always wanted a daughter, so this could be a dual celebration of sorts.

Next, there was another office. Jericho’s no doubt, judging from the man-cave decor. And across the hall was a playroom filled with toys and books—a reminder that Addie had a nephew. Thank Heaven the little boy wasn’t in the house, because it was more than enough just protecting Addie and her mother.

“The windows upstairs have child locks on them and are wired in case my nephew tries to open them,” Addie explained. The words practically ran together, even faster than she was jetting around the house.

He doubted the Moonlight Strangler would climb a ladder to try to get inside. That would make him too visible, but he might try other ways. “Is there a security system for the rest of the house?”

Addie nodded, her breath still gusting. “Jericho had one installed after...well, just after.”

It was the kind of security measure Weston would have taken if he’d been in her brother’s place, even if there’d been no hint of the killer coming after her.

“It’s not armed,” he reminded her. Weston knew that for a fact since he’d literally walked right into the house. Something he needed to stop the killer from doing.

“The keypad is by the front door.” Addie led him in that direction, and while she set the system, Weston locked that door. He also checked the sidelight windows.

No one was out there. Yet. If a killer hadn’t had a target on Addie, everything would have seemed normal. Well, everything outside anyway.

“Does the alarm cover all the windows and doors?” Weston asked.

She nodded. “But it won’t go off if the glass breaks. Only if a window is actually lifted.”

That was better than nothing.

Weston took Addie back to her office. Not ideal since there was a big window, but all the rooms on the bottom floor had them.

“Jericho’s on the way,” Iris informed them the moment they returned. “An ambulance, too. I called Teddy again and told him to hold on.”

Maybe holding on would be enough and an ambulance could get to the ranch hand before he bled out. Of course, Jericho likely wouldn’t let the ambulance onto the grounds unless he was certain it was safe for the medics.

And with a killer out there, it was far from safe.

“Get down,” Weston reminded Addie when she hurried to a cabinet in the corner, where she took down a gun off the top shelf.

Good. He hated that she had to be armed, hated she was terrified to the point of shaking, but without backup, Weston wanted all the help he could get.

With his gun ready, he hurried to the window, staying to the side but still putting himself in a position so he could look out and keep watch. Weston lifted one of the blind slats, bracing himself for the worst. His heart nearly jumped from his chest when the lights flared on.

He cursed.

And it took him a second to realize it wasn’t the glare of something from the killer. It was Christmas lights. Hundreds of them. They were strung out across the barns, shrubs, porch and fences, and they winked on and off, the little blasts of color slicing through the darkness.

“They’re on a timer,” Addie said. That’s when he realized she had lifted her head and was looking out, as well. He motioned for her to get back down. “You want me to turn them off?”

“No.”

They actually helped by lighting up the grounds, and it would make it harder for the killer to use the darkness to hide. Weston hoped. This wasn’t the Moonlight Strangler’s first rodeo, and he’d likely already cased the ranch to find the safest path for him to launch an attack.

Too bad there were plenty of places to do just that.

“Why is this monster doing this now, after all this time?” Iris asked.

While Addie filled her in on what they knew, Weston kept watch and took out his phone to call Cliff Romero, a former cop and one of the friends he’d positioned around the grounds surrounding the Crockett ranch.

“What went wrong?” Weston asked the moment Cliff answered.

“We’re not sure. He didn’t get past Dave and me.”

Dave Roper. The other former cop out there. Both men had been armed with thermal equipment that should have detected anyone or anything with a pulse.

And that could mean only one thing.

That the killer had already been on the ranch grounds, maybe waiting in the shed for nightfall. He was also likely wearing some kind of clothing that would make it hard for the equipment to detect him.

“Hell,” Weston said under his breath.

“My thoughts exactly. Dave and I are moving closer, hoping to pick up his trail. Make sure we’re not hit with friendly fire.”

“I’ll try.” He hung up and glanced back at Addie again. “Text Jericho and let him know there are two PIs headed in the direction of the house.”

She did. But that didn’t mean Dave and Cliff were safe. He only hoped the pair caught up with the killer before he could inflict more harm.

“Maybe he’ll just leave if he knows we’re onto him,” Iris whispered.

Yeah, he probably would, and it was tempting to shout out something or fire a warning shot. But if Weston did that, it wouldn’t end the threat. It would only postpone an attack to another place, another time. One when Weston might have a lesser chance of protecting Addie.

“Do you see him?” Addie asked.

Weston shook his head and tried to think of something reassuring to say. He failed. Addie no doubt saw the worry on his face and in his body language. And he was indeed worried. Even if the killer didn’t attack, all of this stress couldn’t be good for Addie and the baby.

The moments crawled by. Turning into minutes. Still no sign of the Moonlight Strangler. No sign of his friends or Jericho, either.

But Weston sensed something.

Exactly what, he wasn’t sure, but he felt the knot tighten in his gut. Felt that warning slide down his spine. A warning that’d saved his butt a time or two. And that’s why he ducked back from the window.

Not a second too soon.

The bullet crashed through the glass in the exact spot where Weston had just been standing.

He’d braced himself for an attack, of course, but Weston doubted anyone could brace themselves for the roaring blast from the shot and the instant surge of adrenaline through their body.

“Stay down!” he warned Addie and her mother. He hoped the ranch hands were doing the same thing.

A second shot came. Then another.

Both went through what was left of the window and slammed into the wall behind him. They also helped him pinpoint the location of the shooter. All three shots had come from the area around the barn nearest the house.

The killer was way too close.

Not as close as he’d been when he had murdered Collette and left Weston for dead, but it was the first time Weston had been in a position to get a glimpse of him since that fateful night.

The rage roared through him. Not a good mix with the adrenaline and other things he was feeling, but Weston refused to let this snake go after anyone else. Especially Addie.

“Are there any ranch hands in the barn out there?” Weston tipped his head in that direction.

“There shouldn’t be,” Addie answered.

Good. That’d be fewer targets for this idiot to try to kill. And the man was definitely trying to kill them. Weston had no doubts about that as even more bullets crashed through the window.

It was always unnerving to have shots fired, but it didn’t help that knot in his stomach when the killer stopped shooting.

Did that mean he was on the move?

Probably. Because it was too much to hope that he’d run out of ammunition.

Weston ducked and hurried to the other side of the window. It was a better vantage point if the shooter was headed to the back of the house, but Weston still didn’t see anything.

Not at first anyway.

Finally, the Christmas lights flickered over a shadowy spot by one of the trucks parked between the house and the barn. Yeah, someone was definitely there.

Weston took aim and fired.

And he got confirmation of the guy’s location when he saw him scramble behind the truck. He also got another confirmation he’d been waiting for—the sound of sirens from a police cruiser. Jericho, no doubt.

But Weston obviously wasn’t the only one who knew that backup was about to arrive. He saw the shooter dart out from the back of the truck. And the man took off running.

Hell.

Weston didn’t want this monster to get away, and that’s exactly what would happen if he waited for Jericho. It’d be a minute or more before Addie’s brother could stop the cruiser and get into place.

A minute the killer would use to escape.

It was a risk. A huge one. Anything Weston did at this point would be.

He fired a glance at Addie. “Text Jericho and tell him where you are. Then stay down and shoot anyone who tries to come in through this window.” He also tossed her his phone. “Text the first contact in there and let him know I’m out of the house.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished. “You can’t go out there,” Addie insisted.

“I can’t let him get away,” he insisted right back. He knocked out the rest of the shards of glass from the window.

Weston wished he had the time to convince her that this was the only way, but he didn’t. With Jericho so close now, he’d be able to protect Addie and their mother. But just in case the killer doubled back and tried to come through the window, Weston kept watch around him.

And he started running the moment his feet hit the ground.

For one thing, he wanted to get out of the line of fire in case Jericho mistook him for the killer. For another, he wanted to make up the distance between him and the guy he could see running flat-out ahead of him.

Weston could also see something else thanks to the Christmas lights.

The guy was dressed all in black and was wearing a ski mask, and he wasn’t running in a straight line. He was darting in and out of whatever he could use for cover. In addition to a gun, he was also carrying something else.

Something that he tossed onto the ground after glancing back over his shoulder at Weston.

Weston darted around whatever he’d tossed, hoping like the devil that it wasn’t a bomb or explosive device, but it wasn’t.

It appeared to be a thermal scanner like the one Dave and Cliff had been using.

That was probably why the killer had managed to pinpoint them so quickly in the house. After all, he hadn’t fired any shots except right into the office, where they’d been hiding.

Behind him, Weston could hear the cruiser approaching, and the slashing blue lights blended with those from the Christmas decorations. It didn’t create the best setup for spotting a killer since it was playing havoc with his vision. But Weston kept on running. Kept looking over his shoulder to make sure this snake didn’t have a partner who was trying to go after Addie.

The killer scurried out of cover, headed toward a second barn. Weston wasn’t sure if there were vehicles inside or not, but he didn’t want to chance it.

Weston stopped. And he took aim.

He didn’t aim for the guy’s head. Something he desperately wanted to do. Especially with all the rage he was feeling. He could avenge Collette’s death right here, right now. No judge, no jury.

Just one executioner with really good aim.

However, if Weston did that, he wouldn’t get answers, and there were a lot of families out there looking for missing loved ones that this piece of dirt could have murdered. Besides, Weston wanted to look this killer in the eyes and make him answer for what he’d done.

Weston fired.

The shot went exactly where he’d intended it to go. In the killer’s right shoulder. It worked because the guy tumbled onto the ground.

“Move and the next bullets go in your kneecaps,” Weston warned him.

Weston wasted no time going after him, and it wasn’t long before he got close enough to see the killer’s face. Or rather the ski mask he was wearing. He was bleeding, clutching his shoulder with his left hand.

But not his right.

Despite the injury, he was reaching for his gun that had fallen just inches away from him.

“You really want to die tonight?” Weston warned him, and he aimed his gun right at the killer’s head.

The killer did move, though, but only to lift both his hands. Weston hurried to kick the gun aside so that the guy couldn’t change his mind and reach for it.

Then, Weston did some reaching of his own.

He had to see the killer’s face. Had to stare down the man who’d murdered Collette. He ripped off the ski mask, and he got a good look at him all right.

Weston cursed.

No.

Chapter Five

Addie wasn’t sure who was more frustrated with this situation—Weston or her. At the moment, she thought she might be the winner.

Because they hadn’t caught the Moonlight Strangler after all.

And that meant he was still out there. Maybe still plotting to kill her.

However, he hadn’t tried to murder her tonight. Not yet anyway. The attacker who’d hurt Teddy and fired shots into the house wasn’t old enough to be the Moonlight Strangler.

So, who was he?

Addie didn’t know, but she was hoping to find out soon. The same was obviously true for Weston.

He had a death grip on the steering wheel of Addie’s truck as they drove toward the hospital. She didn’t miss the glares he was doling out to her, either. He clearly didn’t want her on this trip with him into town. Didn’t want her out in the open.

Well, Addie wasn’t so thrilled about it herself, but she wouldn’t have felt any safer at home than she would at the hospital, where she’d no doubt be surrounded by lawmen.

Maybe surrounded by answers, as well.

Since their attacker would soon be at the hospital, too.

The injured man was just ahead of them in an ambulance. Jericho was inside with him and the medics. Her brother would also be doling out some glares when he learned she’d disobeyed his order for her to stay put at the ranch and had instead come to the hospital with Weston.

But before Addie had left the ranch, she’d first made sure her mother had plenty of protection, both from the ranch hands, Weston’s two PI friends and her other brother Chase who’d hurried out to the scene. Only then, and only after the ambulance had driven away, had Addie demanded that Weston take her with him.

She’d deal with Jericho later.

Later, she’d have to deal with a lot of things.

Including Weston’s arrival.

After three months of not hearing from him, she had written him out of her life. Out of her heart, as well. Addie wasn’t certain what was going on in Weston’s head, but she doubted he would just disappear again.

Well, not until he had caught the Moonlight Strangler anyway.

“I should have known,” Addie heard Weston say.

It wasn’t the first time in the past fifteen minutes he’d said something along those same lines. And maybe they should have known that the Moonlight Strangler would send a lackey to the ranch instead of risking a personal appearance.

Especially after the killer had let Weston know that she was his next target.

Still, a lackey could have killed her just as well as the Moonlight Strangler.

“He’s way too young to be the killer,” Weston grumbled. He was talking to himself now. Or rather berating himself, since the next mumblings had some profanity mixed in with them.

Yes, the guy was too young. Probably only in his late twenties, judging from the quick glimpse she’d gotten of him before Jericho had demanded that she go back inside. Since the Moonlight Strangler had been murdering women for at least thirty years, the shooter definitely fell into the lackey category.

Or worse.

He could be some kind of crazed groupie who had absolutely no knowledge of the Moonlight Strangler’s identity. This could all have been some kind of a sick hoax.

One that could have gotten a lot of people killed.

They were lucky that hadn’t happened, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. Teddy was alive and was already en route to the hospital in an ambulance ahead of the one carrying their attacker, but Addie had no idea how serious his injuries were.

“Thank you for saving my mother and me,” she told Weston.

He glanced at her, maybe wondering if she was sincere. She was. Despite the other stuff going on between Weston and her—the baby stuff—she was thankful he’d been there when the bullets had started flying.

She’d be even more thankful if she knew that was the last of the bullets. But Addie didn’t think she would be that lucky.

“Is it possible this guy faked the threatening letters you got?” she asked.

“No.” Weston didn’t hesitate. “There were personal details in them. Like the cuts on the faces of the victims. That was never leaked to the press.” But then he stopped, added more profanity. “I suppose, though, he could have sent the last two letters. The one that threatened you and my sister. Still...”

“What?” she pressed when he didn’t continue.

“They felt real.” His mouth tightened as if disgusted that he’d rely on something like feelings, but Addie didn’t dismiss it.

“Maybe they felt real because my birth father told him exactly what to write.” Now it was her turn to mumble some profanity. If that was the case, then they needed this slimebag lackey to talk, to tell them anything and everything he might know about the Moonlight Strangler.

“Are you okay?” Weston asked a moment later.

Addie didn’t miss his glance that landed on her stomach. She wasn’t okay, not by a long shot. She felt raw and bruised as if she’d gone through a physical attack instead of just the threat of one. The sound of those bullets would stay with her for the rest of her life.

“I’m fine,” she settled for saying. And she hoped that was true. Her precious baby didn’t deserve to go through this. No one did.

“You should see a doctor while you’re at the hospital. Just to make sure,” he added.

His tone made it sound like an order. Which made her rethink her notion that he’d just leave after catching her birth father.

No.

She really didn’t want to have to deal with this on top of everything else.

“For the record, we barely know each other,” Addie tossed out there. “And you won’t exactly be welcome in my family.”

Another glance at her stomach. “Is that supposed to send me running for the hills?”

“It might after you meet Jericho.”

“I’ve already met Jericho,” he countered.

“Barely.” They’d exchanged brief introductions and some testosterone-laced glares while waiting for the ambulance. “He’s very protective of me.”

Especially since he’d learned she was pregnant. Addie was thankful for his brotherly love. Thankful for all the other things he’d done for her, including offering her a shoulder when she’d been crying over her heart-crushing encounter with Weston. But Jericho wouldn’t be showing much love to the man who’d slept with his kid sister and then dumped her.

“I’ll deal with Jericho,” Weston said as if it were gospel.

“Good luck with that,” she said in the same tone he’d used.

Still behind the ambulance, he pulled her truck into the parking lot. The very truck that he’d insisted on driving from the ranch to the hospital. Normally, that wasn’t a task Addie would have just surrendered, but the truth was, she was shaking, and the nerves were still there right at the surface.

Unlike Weston’s nerves.

He just seemed riled that he hadn’t been able to bring all of this to a close tonight. And it still might happen. If they could get some info from the shooter.

He took the parking space nearest the ER doors. “Stay close to me and move fast,” he instructed.

She spotted the two night deputies already there. Both were positioned just outside the ER. Both with their hands over their guns. A reminder that this nightmare wasn’t over.

“Search anyone who tries to get in,” Weston told them, and he flashed his badge.

Weston used his own body to shelter her while they made the short trek into the hospital. They were just behind Jericho and the medics, who rushed in with their patient. She didn’t hear what Jericho said to the nurse at the reception desk, but Addie didn’t miss the scowl he gave her when he spotted her. He came toward her just as Weston pulled her away from the doors and to the far side of the room.

Maybe just to get her away from the glass doors.

Maybe so he could make this showdown with Jericho semiprivate.

“You should be home,” Jericho insisted, and in the same breath he added to Weston, “And the two of us need to talk.” Weston was on the receiving end of an even worse scowl than she’d gotten.

She seriously doubted Jericho had only talking on his mind, and that’s why Addie stepped between them. “I can handle this myself.”

All right, that didn’t exactly cool the fire in Jericho’s eyes. Nor did it stop Weston from moving her so that he was facing her brother head-on.

Jericho’s index finger landed against Weston’s chest. “You deserve to have your butt kicked for what you did to my sister. Now the question is—are you going to do something about it?”

“Yeah, I do deserve a butt-kicking,” Weston readily admitted. “And Addie deserves some answers, but we can work that out later. Agreed?”

She wasn’t sure Jericho would agree to anything right now, but he finally huffed, pulled her into his arms and brushed a kiss on Addie’s forehead. “Are you okay? And I want the truth.”

“I’ll be fine,” Addie assured him and stayed a moment in his arms. He might be the most stubborn brother in the universe, but he’d walk through fire for her. And vice versa.

“I already told her I want the doctor to check her out just in case,” Weston insisted.

Jericho made a sound of agreement.

“I can think for myself,” she reminded both of them.

But she was talking to the air because both of them ignored her. Jericho motioned for them to follow him, and he led them into a private waiting room just up the hall.

No windows, thank goodness. She figured it’d take a lifetime or two before she walked past one and didn’t hear the sound of bullets shattering glass.

Weston tipped his head to the wallet her brother had in his left hand. “Does that belong to the shooter?”

It was clear her brother didn’t want to drop the personal part of this conversation with Weston, but she saw the moment he shifted from big brother to lawman. “Yes. My brother Jax is running a background check on him, but we know his name is Lonny Ogden. He’s thirty-one and lives in San Antonio.”

Addie repeated it to see if it rang any bells. It didn’t. “You’re sure that’s his real name?”

“The photo on the license matches the one at DMV. I’m running his prints just to verify, but on the drive over, I had Jax check on Ogden’s rap sheet.” Jericho paused, scrubbed his hand over his face and gave a weary sigh. “He doesn’t have one. Ogden’s never been arrested.”

Hard to believe that the man who’d just tried to kill her had never been in trouble with the law.

“Ogden had a cell phone on him, and I had a ranch hand deliver it to Jax at the station. Jax’ll examine the calls and any other phone records Ogden might have left.”

“Did Ogden say why he did this?” Weston asked.

Another weary sigh from Jericho. “He rambled on a lot, not much of it making sense. When I asked him if he was working for the Moonlight Strangler, he said no, that he was working for a higher being that didn’t live on this planet.”

Now it was Addie’s turn to sigh. “He’s insane.”

“Possibly. Or he could be faking it.” Jericho’s gaze came back to hers. “He said he couldn’t have the Moonlight Strangler’s blood live on and that you weren’t doing all you could to help the cops catch the killer.”

Good God. Addie had known right from the start that this attack was aimed at her, but it was sickening to hear the motive spelled out.

Well, if it was true.

“What exactly does Ogden believe I should be doing to help the cops?” Addie asked.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. He’s crazy,” Weston reminded her.

That didn’t make her feel any better. Mainly because it was coming from Weston. Yes, he’d saved her life, but Addie reminded herself that he’d also used her to find the Moonlight Strangler, the very monster at the heart of all of this.

“Ogden said you should try hypnosis and some drug therapy,” Jericho finally answered.

“I’ve done both.” A reminder that wasn’t necessary since her brother and Weston already knew that. If she thought more hypnosis would help, she’d gladly repeat it. Ditto for another round of drug therapy once the baby was born.

“Ogden believes you know plenty of things you’re not saying because you want to protect your birth father,” Jericho added. “And remember that part about him being crazy.”

Addie wanted to curse. Or scream. “I wouldn’t protect him. Not ever.” Of course, she hadn’t needed to tell Jericho that. But it did make her wonder. “Is this personal for Ogden? Maybe the Moonlight Strangler killed someone he loved?”

Even though Weston wasn’t touching her, she could almost feel his muscles tightening.

“We’ll check all angles,” Jericho assured her, but anything else he was about to say was cut off when they spotted a tall gray-haired man in scrubs making his ways toward him.

Addie instantly recognized him. It was Dr. Applewhite. There were only a handful of regular doctors at the small hospital, and she’d known Dr. Applewhite since she was in elementary school. However, she didn’t usually see such a serious expression on his grandfatherly face.

“Teddy’s in surgery,” the doctor said right off. “He’s lost a lot of blood. A lot,” he emphasized. “But there doesn’t seem to be any damage to his vital organs. He should pull through.”

Addie hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until the air rushed from her throat. Like the doctor, she’d known Teddy most of her life, and it felt like a stab to the heart to know he’d been hurt because of her.

“Thanks for telling us,” Addie said. “My mother’s already called his family to let them know. They’ll be here soon.”

The doctor had no sooner stepped away when Jericho’s phone buzzed, and she saw Jax’s name on the screen. She also saw the debate Jericho had with himself before he finally put the call on speaker.

“I found something,” Jax greeted.

Addie had braced herself for bad news, but the relief flooded through her. Guarded relief anyway.

“I’m looking at Lonny Ogden’s phone records, and he’s only been in contact with one person in the past twenty-four hours. Ira Canales.”

Yet another name Addie didn’t recognize, and apparently she wasn’t the only one who didn’t.

“Who is he?” Weston and Jericho asked in unison.

“He’s the campaign manager for Alton Gregory Boggs.”

Addie shook her head. “The attorney who’s running for the state senate?”

“The very one,” Jax confirmed.

She’d seen campaign ads. Everyone probably had. Pictures of a smiling Boggs and his equally smiling wife were plastered on billboards all over the area.

“It’s not just a couple of calls to Canales,” Jax went on. “Ogden phoned him six times today. All under a minute long so I can’t be sure if Canales actually spoke with him. Ogden could have just left him messages.”

True, but it was a start. Maybe Ogden had said something to Canales that would tell them if Ogden truly had a connection to the Moonlight Strangler. Any connection that would help them learn the killer’s identity.

“I’ll call Canales now and have him come in tomorrow,” Jax continued. “Jericho, have you been able to question Ogden yet?”

But Jericho didn’t get a chance to answer because of the shouts that were coming from the ER. One of the shouts she instantly recognized as coming from the night deputy, Dexter Conway.

“Stop!” Dexter yelled.

“Stay here,” Jericho insisted. He drew his gun, then hesitated a split second so he could make eye contact with Weston. “Watch out for her.”

Jericho rushed out, racing toward the sounds of Dexter’s repeated shouts for someone or something to stop. Weston stepped in the doorway in front of her, and he, too, drew his gun.

Just like that her heart was right back in her throat. “What’s happening?”

Weston shook his head.

But Addie heard something she definitely hadn’t wanted to hear.

A gunshot.

The sound put her heart right back in her throat. “Another attack?” she managed to ask.

“Maybe.” Weston didn’t budge. He kept watch and then started a new round of profanity. “Yeah. It’s a gunman. And Jericho’s in pursuit.”

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