Guardian Ranger (4 page)

Burning.

Everything around them was burning as greedy flames leaped across the station, destroying everything in their path.

Chapter Three

“Keep her safe,” Jasper barked as he pushed Veronica toward Gunner. The sniper had just come back through the station’s front door, rushing toward the flames, and his timing was pretty damn perfect. Jasper wanted a guard on Veronica while he went back in to help the sheriff, and Gunner was one of the best guards that Jasper had ever met.

Gunner nodded, but his gaze drifted back to the flames. Jasper knew that Gunner wanted to be the one running back inside. The guy was always drawn to the fire.

One of his good points.

And his weaknesses.

“Jasper!” Veronica called his name as he ran back inside. He didn’t stop. Wyatt would need another pair of hands to get those prisoners out of that burning building.

The fire wasn’t one that would be controlled easily. He’d heard that explosion, a too-familiar sound. The initial flames in the storage room had been a diversion. The detonation he’d heard had been deliberate. A trap.

A premeditated inferno.

Once he made it back to the holding area, Jasper saw that Wyatt had his gun on the prisoners. He’d already cuffed them and was trying to lead them outside. He couldn’t do the job alone. Jasper grabbed the first guy, then ducked low to try to get some fresh air into his lungs. “Get your butt out of here!” he ordered the guy.

Wyatt whirled on him. “The deputy...Jimmy...he came back... I’ve got to find him...”

Jasper nodded grimly. “I’ve got these two.” The would-be kidnappers were shaking with their fear. They just wanted to get away from the fire. They weren’t planning an attack on him.

The sheriff coughed. He started to hand Jasper his gun, then hesitated.

“There’s a federal agent...” Jasper covered his mouth. The flames were getting worse. The sprinklers had shot on overhead, but they weren’t doing much of a job at stopping the flames. “The agent’s right outside.”
And one is right in front of you.
“You can count on us.”

The sheriff gave him the gun.

Jasper led out the two prisoners. He cast one quick look back at the sheriff. He sure hoped that Wyatt knew what he was doing. Jasper didn’t like leaving any man to the flames. Leaving a man behind—that wasn’t the way he was programmed to operate.

The prisoners rushed outside. And, as he’d expected, Gunner was there, waiting on them. Gunner had his gun drawn and a fierce
don’t try anything
expression etched on his face.

Jasper glanced back at the station’s door. Where was the sheriff? Would he come out the front or make his way out the back?

He’d go check, make sure everyone was safe and—

Gunfire ripped through the night. One blast. Two.

The two prisoners fell instantly. Blood bloomed on their chests and their bodies hit the pavement.

Swearing, Jasper leaped forward and slammed his body into Veronica’s. They fell to the ground, and he kept her covered, using his body as a shield. At any moment, he expected to hear the blast of more gunfire, and he expected to feel bullets slam into his back.
“Gunner!”
Jasper bellowed. His yell was an order. Jasper would protect Veronica, and Gunner would find the shooter.

Keeping his body over Veronica’s, Jasper led her behind his parked truck. It wasn’t much in the way of shelter, but it was better than nothing. An old garage was at their back, the truck in front of them.

Jasper’s head turned toward the men on the ground. They weren’t moving, and that dark bloom on their chests told him that he wouldn’t be getting any more information from them.

Heart shots. Both of them. Dead-on. Just...

Dead.

Veronica was silent beneath him. He heard footsteps pounding toward him and he looked up to see an ash-covered Wyatt racing across the station’s small parking lot. The deputy—pale, with wide eyes—was right on his heels. The men were right out in the open. Perfect targets.

“Get down!” Jasper roared at them. “We’ve got a shooter.” A very skilled shooter who’d just taken out two men who were less than five feet away from Jasper.

Two men...but after those hits, the gunman hadn’t fired another shot. Gunner and Veronica were the two who’d been out in the open the longest.

He didn’t aim for us.
He’d waited and taken the shots when his real targets came out of the sheriff’s station.

“Stay low,” Jasper ordered Veronica as he finally lifted his body off hers. “Keep your head down,” he told her because the last thing he wanted was for her to become a target.

She grabbed his hand when he turned to leave. “Where are you going?” There was a scratch on her cheek, and her palms looked red and raw. Jasper knew the injuries had come from the impact, when he’d shoved her to the ground.

Just for a second, his fingers brushed over the scrapes on her palm. Then he told her the truth, “I’m going hunting.” Because that was what he did best.

Her face tensed, but he didn’t hesitate any longer. He got his weapon ready and eased away from his cover. He knew where the gunfire had come from. He’d been trained to track back to the source of a shot. In the dead of night like this, no one else was around, so the tracking was even easier for him. A fast glance assured him that the little strip in town was deserted. Flames kept crackling, and Jasper didn’t even know where the fire department was, but he sure hoped Wyatt was calling for help.

Moving with barely a whisper of sound, Jasper headed up to the right. He caught a glimpse of Gunner, moving fast in the same direction. They were both closing in on their prey. The angle of the shots, the trajectory—they knew where their shooter should be.

Only when they closed in, he wasn’t there. No one was there.

Jasper spun around, searching the darkness. Damn it. A car or motorcycle could have crept quietly away, its movements easily covered by the crackle of the flames. If the shooter had escaped in a vehicle, they wouldn’t be able to tell for sure in the darkness. When morning came, they’d be able to check in the light. Look for tracks in the dirt roads and gravel and—

Thunder rumbled, and it was definitely thunder this time, not another gunshot.

His teeth snapped together. Rain would destroy any tracks. Hell, hell,
hell.
The shooter was about to have one lucky getaway.

“Are we clear?” That had to be the deputy’s voice. Cutting high with fear and trembling in the night. “Is it safe to come out?”

Jasper and Gunner shared a long look. They might be clear, for the moment, but the killer had just sent them one blunt message.

I’m here. I’m watching.

I’m killing.

The shooter had just executed two men right in front of EOD agents. The guy wasn’t playing.

That was fine, because Jasper wasn’t playing, He would find the killer. Find him. Stop him. Permanently.

The flames were still raging. Jasper tucked the gun in the back of his jeans. He needed to find some water, some hoses. Do whatever he could to stop that fire until backup arrived.

He returned to the bodies and found Wyatt crouched over the men. The sheriff gave a sad shake of his head as he felt for a pulse along the necks of the fallen men.

The backup will be too late.
No EMTs would be able to save these guys.

Someone hadn’t wanted the men to talk. So now they’d never say another word to anyone.

* * *

T
HE
STORM
HIT
just before dawn, rushing in with heavy rain and strong winds. The weather forecaster had warned that they’d be in for some hard weather for the next week.

No one had warned that death would be coming, too.

Veronica opened the door to the main ranch house. The lights flickered on instantly, part of the security system that Cale had installed. The alarm began to beep, signaling that the door had been opened. Jasper followed behind her, shaking his booted heels, then heading inside the foyer.

The big house seemed smaller the instant he entered.

She hurried forward and reset the alarm. “We should...um... You can have the room at the top of the stairs.” She waved her hand vaguely toward the staircase. “It’s Cale’s room, and since he’s not here...”

Where are you, Cale?

“...he won’t mind you using it,” she finished quietly.

Jasper nodded and just kept watching her with that too-intense stare. She almost felt as if his stare saw right through her, to the insecure girl she kept holed up inside.

“I—I’m going to shower.” She
hated
that stutter. For the most part, she could control it, but when Jasper turned that laserlike gaze of his on her, she got too nervous. Veronica turned away from him, determined to keep her composure. At least for a little while longer. Those men were dead. Shot, right in front of her. She’d seen the injured man’s face when the bullet hit him. The horror. The flash of pain. Then...the mask of death.
Veronica rubbed her chilled arms and told Jasper, “The kitchen’s down the hallway. You can help yourself to—”

“That’s it?”

Veronica glanced back at him. He was stalking toward her. Looking sexy and dangerous with a faint line of stubble coating his jaw. “You seen a lot of death, Veronica Lane?” Jasper asked in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

Not a lot. Some. More than she wanted to see. Wasn’t that the way it was for people?

“Because when most folks see two men get shot to death in front of them, they don’t turn to ice.”

They did if the ice was the only thing that could protect them.

“Make me understand you.” His voice was gruff now. And there it was. He was looking at her as if she was
off,
different. Story of her life. Everyone but Cale had always thought she was different. Too quiet. Too shy. Too...well, everything.

Forcing her spine to straighten, Veronica held Jasper’s gaze. She didn’t owe him any explanations. He’d been hired to do a job, simple as that. She didn’t divulge her personal history to anyone because it was
personal.

But he’d put his body over hers. Covered her and been willing to take a bullet to keep her safe. She remembered the feel of his body against hers. Strong muscles, hard flesh. His breath had whispered near her ear. He’d held her tight, shielding her from the gunfire.

Jasper risking his life in order to keep her safe—that hadn’t exactly been covered in their one-thousand-dollar-a-day deal that had been brokered before she’d left Last Chance.

So, maybe,
definitely,
she did owe the guy some kind of explanation. She’d bare her soul to him, as she hadn’t done to anyone else.

“I’ve seen dead bodies before.” She pressed her lips together. This wasn’t a memory she enjoyed visiting. “My parents died in a car accident when I was six.”

“Cale mentioned—”

“I was in the backseat.” Her words tumbled over his because she wanted to get this story out as quickly as she could. If she said it fast, then maybe she wouldn’t have to think about it too long. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. “We were on our way to pick up Cale from his soccer game.” As soon as the car had stopped rolling, the silence had hit her. Then she’d screamed. She’d known something was wrong with her mother right away. She’d called for her, but her mother hadn’t answered.

Her dad had. His voice had been weak as he’d told her,
“Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry.”

She hadn’t been able to stop. She’d cried and cried—
especially when her dad had stopped talking to her.

“The other driver was drunk. He was knocked unconscious when the cars hit and he... It took him a while to wake up.” And to make his way to her car. To find the screaming child trapped in the back.

Jasper’s arms were around her. He hauled her close. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her. “I’m sorry.”

So was she.

“I didn’t know you were— Cale never mentioned you were
in
the car.”

Because Cale liked to pretend that she hadn’t been. Or that she didn’t remember. That she’d never seen blood and death. That she hadn’t known fear.

That all the years in foster care hadn’t existed for either of them.

But you couldn’t just wipe away the past.

She forced herself to step back from Jasper even though the warmth of his arms was so tempting. “So I’ve seen death before, but...but I wasn’t ready for what I saw tonight.” Who could be? She saw again the horror in that man’s eyes. The pain. Then...
nothing.
“The fact that I don’t break down, it doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

“It just means you’re strong,” he said.

Strong? Not many people had called her that before. Cale was the strong one. She was the smart one. At least, those were the tags they’d been given in foster care. But she’d told him enough about herself for now, and he wasn’t trying to break through the ice that shielded her any longer. She swallowed and tried to focus less on death.
I don’t want to keep seeing that man’s eyes go blank.
“That special agent...Gunner...” The man who’d stayed behind at the scene while Jasper took her home. “How do you two know each other?” She’d been distracted before, hadn’t even really processed that an FBI agent had appeared at her kidnapping scene. Talk about some luck. She’d known that Jasper had connections she could use; she just hadn’t expected to use those connections instantly.

“I do some freelance work for the government.” His answer came easily. His gaze held hers. “Gunner and I have worked together on missions in the past.”

The words held the ring of truth, but then, why would she even think that he’d lie to her? So far, he’d done nothing but save her. “He’ll tell you what he finds out about those men?”

Jasper nodded.

“Why do you think they were shot?” She was exhausted. Her body hurt
.
But she couldn’t stop talking. The questions she was asking him...part of the reason why she was bringing them up was that she wanted to steer him away from her parents. Her past. That wound was still raw.

“They’re dead because someone wanted to make sure they didn’t talk.”

She thought so, too. “About Cale?”

He didn’t answer. Maybe that was answer enough. Bracing herself, she asked, “Do you think my brother is dead?” Had he been shot like those two men, gunned down with no warning? No time to fight or plead or live?