Dawson growled in frustration from his perch on the bed. “None of the birthday combinations worked, and we’re wasting time. The sooner we access whatever is on this drive, the better. Penelope, our cybersecurity specialist, has programs that can run combinations to crack the password.” He reached for his phone. “I’m calling the chief.”
Peyton dressed Grace quickly, reattaching the pacifier clip with the GPS tracker to her undershirt before snapping the onesie over it. She listened to Dawson’s half of the conversation.
Then he hung up. “Chief Garcia is going to bring Penelope and her equipment here. He’s worried that Marvis and/or Cadeis watching roads, and if they see us driving to the police station at this hour, they’ll assume we uncovered something.”
“Won’t they think that if they see the chief arriving at the ranch?”
“He’s going to coordinate with the Special Forces and sneak onto the property. But it'll take some time. Penelope is at home, and the chief wants to make sure they aren't followed.” Dawson tapped on the trackpad to eject the drive. “Until we can access what’s on this drive and make a duplicate, this is the only copy we have.”
Grace fussed. She was sleepy after her bath. Peyton reached for the cloth sling hung on the closet door. “Hold Grace for me while I put this on.”
“What about your stitches?”
“I’ll be fine. She’s not heavy yet. It’s no different from carrying her.” Peyton handed the baby over, and then wound the fabric across her chest and around her waist, tying it securely the way Ellen had shown her. It pulled slightly at her wound, but the pressure was manageable. "Okay, give her here."
Dawson gently settled Grace into the wrap. The baby fussed for a moment, then nestled against Peyton's chest and sighed. Within seconds, her eyes were drifting shut. Peyton smiled. “Works every time.” She laid a hand on Dawson’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Pray with me?”
He covered her hand with his own and bowed his head. “Lord, we thank You for leading us to this discovery. Help guide our next steps so that we can use this evidence to bring justice. Watch over Lilia. Keep her in Your hands, help her hold on to hope. And watch over us, Lord. Because we need You now more than ever.”
“Amen.” Peyton felt a peace envelop her. There was so much that was still uncertain. Was Lilia alive? Could they crack the code on this drive? Would she and Dawson be able to truly moveon from their mistakes? Danger lurked beyond the safety of the ranch. But Peyton knew she wasn’t alone. She had God. And Dawson. And other people—like Ellen and Raymond—who loved and cared about her.
She leaned into that. She had to. It was the only way to walk through the uncertainty and the fear.
Dawson leaned down and kissed her. Nothing but a brush of his lips against hers, but it was when he pulled back, and she saw the love shining in his eyes that her heart tumbled over itself. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
His cell phone rang, interrupting their sweet moment. Dawson glanced down at the screen and stiffened before swiping the screen, putting the call on speaker. “Walker, what’s wrong?”
“We’ve got an Iron Serpent headed for the house. Alone.”
Peyton’s hand instinctively went around Grace, as if she could shield the baby with only that. Her chest tightened. “What does he look like?”
“Can’t tell. He's wearing a helmet. But the bike is a Harley-Davidson Road King. Black with red pin striping on the fuel tank.”
Dawson frowned. “That's not Cade. He rides a blacked-out Street Glide.”
“I’m moving to intercept. Keep Peyton and the baby inside.” Walker hung up.
Simultaneously, they reacted. Peyton grabbed her holster and handgun from the nightstand as Dawson grabbed a bag they’d packed with baby supplies in case they needed to make a run for it. Then he caught her hand, hustling her down the hall to his parents’ bedroom. It’d been strategically chosen due to its proximity to the woods flanking the east side of the house, and the multiple exits. They could escape through the patio doors, the bathroom window, or the mudroom off the kitchen.
Once the door was shut behind them, Dawson grabbed the laptop on the small desk in the corner of the room. He pulled up the ranch's security camera feed. Four grainy images split the screen—the front gate, the driveway, the barn, and the back porch. Peyton leaned over his shoulder, one hand cradling Grace against her chest.
On the driveway camera, a single headlight cut through the darkness. The motorcycle rolled to a stop near the front porch. The rider killed the engine and dismounted, pulling off his helmet.
Peyton's breath caught. Even in the grainy footage, the bald head and spider tattoo on his neck were unmistakable. “That's Ricky.”
Walker materialized from the shadows, weapon raised. The audio was tinny through the laptop speakers, but clear enough to follow. “Hands where I can see them.”
Ricky immediately did as he was ordered. “My name is Special Agent Richard Mercer. I’m working undercover for the ATF. I need to speak with Detective Dawson Graham and Special Agent Peyton Hughes immediately.”
Dawson hit a button on the laptop. “Walker, bring him in.”
Peyton’s chest tightened. This was serious. By coming here, Ricky had blown his cover. He wouldn’t have done that unless something big was going down. Her steps were hurried as she followed Dawson back down the hall, past the kitchen and into the foyer. Her stitches ached with the hurried movements, the weight of the baby too much for them. The doctor had warned her against lifting anything. But what was she to do? Grace needed her.
Walker and Ricky were already inside. Relief creased Ricky’s rough features the moment Peyton stepped into view with Grace. “We need to get out of here. Cade knows you have the evidence, and he’s coming with his men. He doesn’t care who hehas to kill, as long as he prevents that evidence from leaving this house. He also wants his daughter.”
Dawson held up a hand. “Hold on. How could Cade possibly know?—”
