Читать книгу Raw Talent - Debra Webb - Страница 9

The Sierra Madre mountains, washed in green forest, jutted upward around the desolation of the desert and were a sharp contrast to all that surrounded it. The desert scrub and cacti of the expansive terrain she’d traveled for miles after leaving the village had given way to the rugged landscape at the foothills of the mountains, but the Jeep she’d rented had handled the drive easily.

Her patience and persistence had paid off. A kid, maybe twelve or thirteen, who’d made a delivery to the Sloan residence from the local market had given her directions.

For a price.

She hadn’t haggled with him. At least, not once she’d seen a sort of kindred soul in his eyes. This kid hadn’t needed any more grief in his life. From what Gabrielle had deciphered from the conversation, his mother was ill and he drove the broken-down truck his father had left behind when he’d deserted the family years ago. The kid helped put food on the table for his three brothers and sisters.

Life sucked that way all too often, Gabrielle decided. But the kid…he reminded her of herself. He wouldn’t let it get him down. Instead he’d do what he had to. No matter the personal cost.

She focused a little more closely on the house in the distance. She’d decided that getting too close without sizing up the situation wouldn’t be a smart move. Instead she’d driven around it, parked at the base of the mountains and then climbed for a while. Just long enough to find a decent position for scouting out the property.

“Some digs,” she muttered as she surveyed the massive residence once more.

A fortress. A ten- or twelve-foot wall completely surrounded the property, which included a monstrosity of a house and sizable grounds, as well. A large iron gate allowed entrance from the front, if one possessed the proper credentials. Probably a numeric code at the very least. Another gate provided a secondary exit at the rear of the property. She could see a pool and what could be a detached garage or rather large workshop. The stuccoed exterior and red-tiled roof of the main house gave the place a rustic Southwestern style.

Apparently murder paid well.

Fury boiled up inside Gabrielle, but she wrestled it aside. She had to stay focused. Losing her temper or having an emotional outburst would be detrimental to that task.

No vehicles were in view. She supposed they were parked in the garage. In the past half hour she hadn’t noted any activity period.

Getting onto the grounds wouldn’t be easy. She’d definitely have to wait for the cover of darkness to attempt any sort of move. Even then—she scanned the rear gate once more—security might include motion sensors. But that was a risk she’d just have to take.

Movement beyond the front of the property snagged her attention and she focused her binoculars to check out the vehicle approaching from the road that led to town.

Her heart rate bumped up a notch. This could be him. This could be Sloan.

The vehicle stopped at the gate. A truck. Full size. Maybe four-wheel drive judging by how high the chassis sat off the ground.

A man, dark hair, dark complexion, entered a code into the keypad. Not Sloan, Gabrielle decided. He had blondish hair and this guy looked like a native of the country versus just a guy with a deep tan.

As she watched, a woman in the passenger seat leaned past the driver and pressed her thumb to some part of the security keypad device.

Fingerprint analysis. Oh, yeah, Gabrielle had known security would be tight.

The gate opened and the truck rolled forward to park directly in front of the main entrance to the house. Before the two passengers were out of the vehicle, the gate had closed securely back into place.

If Gabrielle waited until the visitors left, she might be able to slip through the gate as it closed. It would be dark soon. She glanced at the setting sun. That might work. But she would need to get into position right away. Who knew how long these people would stay or whether or not they were permanent residents? They could be the hired help. The kid from the market had mentioned there was a man who helped around the house.

Gabrielle started to put her binoculars away and get to her feet, but new movement near the house stopped her.

What the hell?

She peered through the binoculars, hardly believing her eyes.

Two boys, one small, nine or ten maybe, another thirteen or older considering his manlike features, ran out of the house and toward the rear gate. Another man, this one much older and clearly Mexican with slight features, hurried after them.

The older man abruptly fell forward onto the stone courtyard. The driver of the truck rushed up to him. Shot the old man twice in the back.

Gabrielle jerked with each sound that echoed against the mountains around her. She scrambled to her feet, almost falling in the process.

“What the hell are they doing?”

The woman, the passenger from the truck, rushed up to the man with the gun. She appeared to be screaming at him. She, too, looked like a local. Dark hair, dark skin. Young.

The man with the gun grabbed her by the throat and said something to her. Something brutal, considering the cruel twist of his face. And then he ran after the boys.

Gabrielle tracked the course of the kids. They had made it through the rear gate but the man was gaining on them fast. Surely he wouldn’t…

Her gaze swung back to the woman who was now kneeling next to the old man. The woman cried and rocked back and forth as if she’d just lost a loved one.

Gabrielle’s attention shifted back to the kids. The older one was giving the guy with the gun a run for his money but the smaller boy…

“Damn.”

The guy had the little kid.

Adrenaline seared through Gabrielle’s veins. Her business here involved Sloan and only Sloan. Whatever the hell was going on with these kids was none of her concern. But she damn well couldn’t stand here and watch some bastard hurt a kid. No way.

She tore out down the mountainside, careful to take the route she’d chosen on her ascent. The daylight was waning and she didn’t want to risk falling.

By the time she’d reached her vehicle the man had rousted the two boys back through the rear gate, but he hadn’t closed it. Cocky bastard.

Gabrielle jumped into the Jeep and drove as close to the house as she dared for fear of being heard. She bounded out of the vehicle and crept covertly onto the property.

Even before she’d edged up to the corner of the building she’d assumed might be a garage she heard the man with the gun ranting at his captives as well as his partner in crime.

“Tell me when your father will call!” he screamed, simultaneously ramming the muzzle of the weapon into the older boy’s skull.

The boy told the man to go screw himself and Gabrielle couldn’t resist a smile. “You tell him, kid,” she muttered under her breath.

“Maybe I’ll just kill you now, smart boy!” the killer warned.

“No!” the woman cried, only then moving away from the downed man. “You promised no one would die. What are you doing, Manuel? I don’t understand!”

Gabrielle shook her head. Women could be so stupid when they were in love. She braced herself to take down the bastard with the gun.

She’d been training for a moment like this for weeks. She was the best in her class back at the firing range in nowhere Montana.

The sound of a weapon discharging exploded in the air.

Gabrielle’s mouth dropped open and it was all she could do not to scream.

He’d killed her.

The man with the gun had shot his girlfriend.

He ordered the boys to get into his truck.

For ten, maybe twenty seconds, Gabrielle couldn’t move. Her body felt paralyzed by what she’d seen. None of her training had adequately prepared her for this.

By the time she’d pulled it back together. the truck was driving out through the front gate.

She swore and rushed toward the two downed victims.

The man was dead for sure.

The woman gurgled and frantically flung one arm.

Damn.

Gabrielle surveyed the damage. The bullet hole in her abdomen was pouring blood. The one in her chest was a little too far to the right to have hit her heart, but maybe a lung. Gabrielle shook her head. How the hell did she know?

She needed help.

How did she get an ambulance way out here?

Her gaze zeroed in on the blood pooling on the ground around the woman’s waist. Gabrielle swallowed hard. This girl wasn’t going to make it.

Gabrielle pressed her left hand over the gut wound since it appeared to be the worst and tried to staunch the flow. “How do I call for help?” she asked the woman who still writhed desperately.

A dark brown gaze collided with Gabrielle’s. “Stop…him…” The words were scarcely a breath of choking sound.

Gabrielle glanced toward the gate. “I don’t…”

Icy fingers wrapped around her wrist with surprising strength. Gabrielle’s gaze jerked back to the woman.

“I am…dying…” she gasped. “Help…the children.”

Her voice was barely audible now.

What did she do? Let the woman die or go after the children?

Gabrielle’s heart pounded so fiercely she couldn’t think.

“Take the…chi-children and hide…”

“What?” Hide? Panic tightened around Gabrielle’s chest. What did she mean hide?

The woman’s mouth worked but no words came out.

“Oh, God.” Gabrielle lowered her head closer to the woman’s face. Strained to make out her words. “I don’t understand. What do you want me to do?”

“Hide…the children…more bad men will come…”

Gabrielle reared back at the warning. “Your friend isn’t alone in this?”

“…many more will come…”

The woman stilled. Her eyes lost their desperate appeal.

Gabrielle’s breath caught. She stared at the wounds that still oozed blood, but the force was much less now.

“Look, lady, I don’t know—”

The woman remained completely, unnervingly still.

Gabrielle felt for a pulse. Nothing. Damn! She tried to get the woman’s heart beating again, but it was no use.

The kids.

Dammit all to hell.

Gabrielle glanced at the gate, then back at the woman.

Someone had to save those kids.

There was no one but her.

Without taking a moment to second-guess herself, she bolted toward her Jeep.

If Sloan’s residence was tied in with any kind of security monitoring system then maybe help was already on the way. It was too late for those two, but someone needed to know what had happened here.

One thing was certain, if Gabrielle was going to catch up with the son of a bitch who had the kids, she had to move fast. She jumped behind the wheel of her Jeep, wiped her bloody hands on a T-shirt lying on the passenger seat and twisted the key in the ignition.

The motor started and she released the clutch, allowing the vehicle to lurch forward. She sped out over the sandy landscape, dust flying behind her. But that was good because it was flying behind the other guy, too, and that was the only chance she had of keeping him in sight.

The sun had almost completely set, leaving only the thinnest purple hues reaching across the barren desert in front of her.

She couldn’t turn on her headlights. She needed to get close enough to shoot out this jerk’s tires before he noticed her approach.

She would figure out what to do next after that.