Page 30 of Ransom for His Secret Son

It didn’t take her long to find out why.

Remi pulled herself over the edge and took in the scene. The air was thick with the lingering scent of gunpowder, the odor unmistakable. Near the ledge where Tarrant had fired, there were several dozen spent shell casings glinting under the harsh glow of the city lights.

But no Tarrant.

Brody cursed under his breath, shoving his gun back into his holster. “Damn it. He’s gone.”

One of the San Antonio cops—Rodriguez, as per his name badge—stepped up beside him. “Who the hell are we chasing?”

Brody’s jaw clenched. “Tarrant Eddington. Fugitive. Wanted for murder.”

The cop blew out a hard breath. “Hell.”

The four of them split up, moving to the edges of the roof. Remi rushed to the side where she’d last seen Tarrant’s silhouette before he disappeared. She looked down, searching the alley below for any sign of movement, a shadow, a disturbance.

Nothing.

Well, nothing other than Langley who was still lying on the ground right where they’d left him. She could see that he was talking to someone on his phone.

Brody scanned the opposite side, his breathing heavy with frustration. “He’s gone.”

Rodriguez’s partner, a younger cop named Willis, shook his head. “He must have made it down before we even got here.”

No, no, no. Remi groaned and wanted to shout every curse word she knew. They’d been so close to catching Tarrant, and while she and Brody wouldn’t have put his head on a silver platter, they would have used him to start negotiations with the person holding his son.

Now they were empty-handed and no closer to finding the baby.

Brody’s phone rang just as they hit the fire escape, and Remi watched as his entire body went rigid when he saw the caller ID.

“It’s dispatch,” he relayed to her. “Lost Canyon dispatch.” He answered immediately, putting it on Speaker. “Sheriff Walker.”

“Sheriff, we just got an anonymous call,” the dispatcher said. “The person claimed there’s an intruder at your ranch.”

Remi’s stomach dropped. Oh, God. The baby.

Brody didn’t hesitate. “Send a unit now. I’m on my way.”

He ended the call, already moving, his pace even faster than before. Remi kept up, a new slam of adrenaline surging through her. With a white-knuckle grip on his phone, Brody used the voice command to call Holt.

The call connected, and Holt’s voice came through, calm but alert. “Yeah, boss?”

“Do you see or hear anything suspicious?” Brody demanded.

A pause. “No. Everything’s quiet.”

Remi could hear Holt shifting on the other end, probably already checking the windows, reaching for his weapon.

Brody exhaled but didn’t relax. “Stay alert. Lost Canyon units are en route. I’ll be there soon.”

“Got it,” Holt said. “I’ll be ready.”

He ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. His jaw was clenched so tight Remi thought his teeth might crack. When they hit the ground, two more San Antonio officers were already approaching.

Brody barely slowed as he flipped his badge. “My newborn might be in danger in Lost Canyon. I have to go. I’ll call to handle reports on the attack. Oh, and check on the man over there.” He pointed in Langley’s direction. “He could be in danger if the shooter comes back.”

Before Brody had even finished talking, he was heading toward his cruiser, and Remi followed without question.

They had to get to the ranch.