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.
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
