Just One Kiss (Whisper Lake #4) - Barbara Freethy Page 0,93

every step difficult. When they got to the top, they moved through the trees and he felt an enormous sense of relief when he saw the clearing and the circle of cabins.

That relief faded when he saw an unfamiliar vehicle next to Hannah's car. He hoped it was Kelly's car, but it certainly wasn't the one she'd stolen from Trevor.

He paused, looking at his dad. "I don't know who that other car belongs to."

"It looks like it was in an accident," his father commented, nodding his head toward the shattered windshield.

That sight sent another chill through him. Hannah had said Kelly had a stalker, someone who was tracking her. Was he here? Was he inside?

"I'm going to get closer," he said. "Stay here, Dad."

"No. We're doing this together."

"Then we need to see what's going on inside, before they see us."

"Agreed."

They slid through the trees toward the house, avoiding the porch. There appeared to be a light on in the bedroom, so they made their way around the structure. They were almost to the back windows when he heard a baby crying.

Kelly had had the baby. At least, the child was alive. Hopefully everyone else was, too. But as they moved around the corner, he could see a large shadow in the window. The person was tall, and he had something in his hand.

His heart stopped. It was a gun.

He had to get inside—now!

A hand came down on his shoulder, his father's soft voice in his ear. "Careful," he said. "We need a plan. We can't rush in."

"We also can't wait here," he growled, but he knew his dad was right. "We need a distraction."

His dad met his gaze. "I'm on it. We're not going to lose Hannah, son. We're not going to lose Hannah or her sister or that little baby."

"No, we're not," he said, praying that they weren't already too late, because at this moment, he had no idea who was in that house or what condition they were in.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hannah stared at Tom Washburn as he paced back and forth, his footsteps jerky, his anger palpable. But there was something else at play—uncertainty.

Tom had been holding them at gunpoint for almost thirty minutes. At first, he'd wanted to grab Kelly and throw her into his car, but her condition and the arrival of the baby had thrown him. He also didn't seem to know what to do about her.

He'd ordered Hannah to sit on the floor, her back against the wall, which she'd done without complaint, not wanting to upset what appeared to be a fragile mental condition.

"Please, Tom, just go," Kelly pleaded again, her arms around her baby, who was fitfully crying. She'd begged him before to leave, but he seemed unmoved.

"You're mine. I'm not leaving you or our baby," Tom replied.

"She's not our baby. She's my baby," Kelly said.

Hannah frowned, wishing Kelly would stop talking, because she didn't think reminding him that the baby was not his was the best approach. The man was clearly unhinged. He'd be more likely to hurt a child who didn't belong to him than one who did.

"They both need to go to the hospital," she interjected quietly.

"Shut up," he said, his evil gaze swinging to her.

"Kelly lost a lot of blood. Look at her face," she continued. "Look at how white it is. If you love her, and it seems that you do, you don't want anything to happen to her, do you?"

"She's fine."

"She's not fine. She could be bleeding internally. I'm a nurse. I know these things."

"You're lying."

Kelly started to gasp. "I don't think she is, Tom. I feel like I'm dying."

Hannah didn't know if her sister was playing along or if the pallor of her skin really was a sign that she was bleeding. "Can I check on her?"

"Stay where you are," he ordered. "You're both lying." He moved back and forth in front of the window.

She thought she heard something outside. Maybe the police had finally come. Or else it was just the wind. Perhaps the ambulance hadn't been able to get through the snow. Jake might have been stopped, too. Although, now she hoped he had been stopped, because if he got here first, he could walk right into a volatile situation. There was no doubt in her mind that Tom would shoot anyone who walked through that door.

Her heart pounded against her chest as an image of Jake rushing to help them, only to be gunned down, entered her mind.

Why had she texted him? Why

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