That was, if Justice hadn’t become distracted. He couldn’t depend on it, because the other man had the protection of Lily and Shay. If someone had gone for the girls, or made it appear as though they were, then the Culpeppers would ensure their safety before wondering if Jacob had checked in.
There were too many variables, too many ways Masser and whoever he was working with could have influenced the plans he and the Culpeppers had put in place. Ultimately, Sallie’s protection was on his shoulders, and he’d never allowed himself to think otherwise. He didn’t depend on the others to be in place to protect her. He’d seen that fail in too many operations with other agents and saw too many dangers associated it when the women in question belonged to him.
“Jacob, I know where you’re hiding,” Masser snapped. “Stop pissing me off and come on out. You’re one man. You don’t have the ammo to hold me off, or the firepower I have.”
Yeah, he was just going to give himself and Sallie up like a twit with nothing better to do than die. And the little bastard might think he knew where they were hiding, but he wasn’t certain. If he was certain, then he’d have already made his play.
Just a few more minutes, he predicted, holding his weapon steady, his body relaxed, prepared to move at a second’s notice.
Another round of furious whispers, the feminine sound of it commanding, pushing Masser.
Yeah, that woman was going to get the bastard killed, Jacob was betting on it. He was lying there betting both his and Sallie’s lives on the fact that she would force Masser to make a move.
A sudden round of automatic gunfire swept the room. Illegal, the rat-a-tat-tat of a small, handheld machine gun pistol by the sound of it. Hell of a lot more firepower than Jacob’s Glock, but hell, it only took one bullet to kill.
The mirror on the wall at the end of the bed shattered, raining glass over his head. The rounds dug holes in the carpeting and sent cotton bedding in the air. The windows, so far, hadn’t been hit.
He felt Sallie jerk behind him and tensed, wondering if she’d cry out. She didn’t make a sound, but one hand gripped his ankle lightly over his boot, her fingers tightening then releasing.
Damn, she was smart. She let him know she was okay without a breath to give away their position.
“Bastard!” he heard Ray mutter.
Almost. He was almost there.
If they rushed the room, they’d come together, he guessed. One would jump on the bed, the other would come across the room at the end of it, heading for the bathroom. That would be his plan if he was certain the enemy was in the bathroom, but wanted to be sure they weren’t hiding beside the bed, and time was running out.
If Masser knew anything at all about Jacob, he’d know he’d have backup somewhere. And if nothing else, the sound of gunfire could be heard across the distance between Sallie’s house and her nearest neighbor. Those neighbors were nosy as hell and didn’t hesitate to call the sheriff if they felt it warranted. And hopefully, Masser wasn’t aware of the neighbors’ paranoid natures or the fact that someone was always home whether a vehicle was or not.
Another round of furious whispers. The change in tone and anger had him preparing himself.
Oh yeah, Masser’s female partner wasn’t happy. She might even suspect Jacob and Sallie had somehow escaped.
Keeping his shoulder to the bottom of the thick mattress to ensure he felt any pressure on the bed, he waited, watching that point where the shaft of light spilling from the other window fell across the floor just enough to alert him if anyone was moving in the room.
It didn’t matter if they came in together or one waited behind as backup, both were dead. Male or female, once they targeted Sallie, they’d signed their own death warrants.
The whispers stopped and Masser wasn’t speaking. They were gathering their courage now, he guessed, especially the aide. He’d be convincing himself that whatever argument the woman presented was logical and knowledgeable. A few deep breaths. Check his weapon, listen …
They rushed the room in a hail of gunfire that had him moving. He rolled to his back, catching the woman as she came across the bed and firing before he changed angle and fired again, hitting Dougal’s aide in the chest and throwing him back.
Swinging back, his gaze locked on the woman as her fingers tangled in Sallie’s hair and dragged it back, forcing her to sit up and provide cover for the woman.
Jacob knew her. The same woman Sallie had introduced as the head of Dillerman’s pet department. Blonde hair, dark eyes, slender. She’d hidden her toned body with slouchy clothing and a shy demeanor and the fact she’d been in town nearly since Sallie had been.
Those eyes were narrowed on him, hatred gleaming in them as she placed her weapon at the side of Sallie’s head.
Sallie stared back at him, tears filled her eyes, regret shimmering in the dim light of the room.
“Well, fuck,” he said heavily, letting his wrist rest against his knee, his weapon lowered.
Cora smiled in triumph, her wrist shifting, the weapon turning in his direction.
And that was all he was waiting for.
Except someone beat him to it. Before he could fire his weapon, another exploded, driving a bullet in the center of the woman’s forehead, flinging her back as brain matter exploded on the table behind her.
“Goddamn.” He jerked Sallie to him, pushed her to the floor and came around, weapon leveled on the older man standing in the doorway as three Culpeppers rushed around him and surveyed the room in surprise.
“Ambassador Dougal,” Jacob greeted Sallie’s stepfather as though blood and two dead bodies didn’t lie between them. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
His arms tightened around Sallie, feeling the shuddering of her body, the sobs that began tearing from her as her hands held him, her fingers tight at his waist.
She was safe. That was all that mattered, he told himself, she was safe.
Justice, Pride, and Rancor looked around the room, their gazes heavy.
“We found John,” Justice said quietly. “He’s in bad shape but I think he’ll live. From what we pieced together, he was trying to identify who sent Deverson. Masser caught him by surprise.”
Sallie’s head jerked, staring across the bed at the men gathered there, focusing on Dougal.
“Did he kill Mom?” Her voice was rough, filled with pain. “He said he killed her.”
Grief flashed in Rance Dougal’s eyes before he stared back at Sallie in surprise.
“Your mother had a stroke.” He shook his head at the question. “I wouldn’t have lied to you, Sallie.”
Rance’s dark face was creased, lined with worry, and for his age, he was in surprisingly good shape. The three-piece suit he wore looked a little out of place, but hell, he was a politician. They always looked out of place.
Pushing to his feet, Jacob helped Sallie, the sound of sirens in the distance assuring him that things were about to get decidedly uncomfortable.
Swinging Sallie up in his arms, Jacob stepped past Masser’s body and the blood soaking the carpet. Cradling her against him, holding her tight, he carried her into the living room, where he placed her gently on the couch.
He was surprised that Rance was right behind them, his hands shoved into his pants pockets, his gaze on Sallie, his expression concerned.