“That’s the place,” Wyatt said.
Chapter Twenty
Wyatt was going to have to handle this situation very carefully. He didn’t usually carry an Alpha alien Defender, but he did have one hidden in his trunk. Cam Gray, one of his six brothers-in-law, also the creator of the Defender to keep humans unaware of aliens in town, had insisted he keep one in his personal vehicle at all times.
Thus far, he’d never had to use it and he’d been grateful for that.
Having had a memory-wiping Defender used on his mind—more than once, as a matter of fact—he didn’t relish the idea of using it on someone else unless it was absolutely necessary. And he especially did not want to shoot Alienn’s new sheriff before the man had spent a whole month on the job.
Wyatt had sent the address to Sheriff Hollister before leaving home. It was possible Hollister was going to be there waiting there for them. If what Jett said about the abductor being a non-human was accurate, he was going have to consider his options and maybe break in that unused Defender tonight.
He did not look forward to it.
“If the sheriff beats us there, stay in the car until I talk to him.”
Beryl said, “No promises.” Her expression was the very definition of determined. It would not be easy to convince her that staying in the car was best. He glanced in the rearviewmirror at her brother. Yeah, Jett wasnevergoing to stay in the car.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, Beryl. I don’t know what we’re facing. Technically, I’m a civilian here tonight. This isn’t my jurisdiction.”
Jett said, “Beryl, let the man do his job.”
Beryl did not look happy, but she did nod once.
The turned from the paved road onto Wolf Track Road, which was mostly grown-over gravel. There were two narrow grassy ruts on either side of a gravel strip in between. It could’ve been worse, he supposed, but he didn’t want to have to replace all the shocks on this vehicle. Technically, it was an SUV, but he’d never taken it offroad before.
As he drove carefully down the rutted track, Wyatt could see lights at what looked like an old barn about a quarter mile up the road. He slowed. He didn’t want to alert the occupants of the barn that they were about to have company.
As he drove closer, he saw Sheriff Hollister’s empty cruiser parked beside the crude structure pretending to be an oversized cabin in the woods. It was past rustic, leaning heavily toward rickety. Wyatt pulled his SUV up next to the sheriff’s cruiser, parked and turned his engine off.
In a low voice, he said, “Please, I beg of you, stay in the car until we clear the building of any danger.”
Jett said, “We’ll wait here for you, Wyatt.”
Beryl nodded and Wyatt didn’t wait around for any further discussion.
He exited his vehicle, eyes on a barn so old and weathered it looked like if he coughed on it, the place would flatten into sticks. Inside the building, light of some sort seeped through the gaps in the boards that formed the walls. It was hard for him to believe the structure had working electricity. Camp lantern,perhaps? He couldn’t risk trying the door without knowing what was happening inside.
He moved toward the side of the structure, as there was no window at the front. He didn’t count the gaps between the wooden slats on the walls.
Wyatt hadn’t taken three steps when someone screamed. It came from inside the barn.
Behind him, Beryl leapt out of the car and ran toward the cabin. Jett was right on her heels. To Wyatt’s great relief, he grabbed his sister from behind before she could run willy-nilly into a possibly bad situation. She didn’t scream or speak, but she looked very determined to get inside that building.
Wyatt raced over to where Jett held Beryl, putting a finger to his lips for them to continue to be quiet while he went inside. Gun drawn, Wyatt walked around to the back of the barn, where a whole section of wall was missing.
Slowly, he walked toward the opening and carefully stepped inside. There was some sort of a bright light high in the space. Light spilled down in the center of the room but the rest was in shadows.
Wyatt’s eyes went to the sheriff, who lay flat on his back on the dirt floor, eyes closed, gun in his hand. Jake, in a pool of light, was strapped to a long wooden table in the center of the barn. He appeared to be unconscious, but breathing. He also looked like someone who was being prepped for backwoods surgery. That was bad.
Wyatt lifted his gun, arm straight, elbow locked. He moved farther into the room. Behind him, he heard soft footsteps approaching, two sets of them.
So, both Beryl and Jett had decided not to wait for his signal. Great.
Wyatt didn’t waste time turning around to glare at them as he searched the building for a threat. And a plausible reasonfor why the sheriff was flat on his back. Was Hollister the one who’d screamed or was it Jake?
Wyatt glanced down at Hollister. At least the man was breathing. That was the first good news since they’d arrived.
Other than the table Jake was strapped to, which looked like someone’s old Sunday best dining room table for large families, and a smaller table positioned near Jake’s head, he saw absolutely nothing.
