Page 68 of Ransom for His Secret Son

Remi knew that was a strong possibility as well. The trick would be to make sure Tarrant didn’t take anyone else with him.

She glanced at Brody as he typed out messages to Christina, Eloise and Langley, instructing them to meet at the construction site of the inn. The sooner they were all in place, the sooner they could figure out how to outmaneuver Tarrant.

He barely had time to finish those before another text came in. He checked it and nodded. “Harlan and Reese are parked out of sight up the road from the inn. They’ll move in when we do, but they’ll stay hidden unless we need them.”

Remi was beyond grateful for the backup. Tarrant was unpredictable, and she wasn’t about to assume he’d keep this showdown fair.

It was still dark when they stepped outside, sunrise about forty-five minutes away. Which meant they could very well be facing down Tarrant with very little light. That was likely what he wanted. Easier for him to hide that way. Easier to lie in wait and try to ambush them.

Since Tarrant had proven to them that he had some sniper skills, she and Brody quickly made their way to the cruiser and got in. Theirs wasn’t the only cop car, though. There were two others parked in front of the house. A visible reminder that he was taking no chances with his sons’ safety.

“You know, Christina, Eloise or Langley might do something stupid when they get there,” she said as he started the engine. “Like show up with guns blazing.”

“Yeah,” he muttered without a moment of hesitation. “Which is why we need to get there first. Get the lay of the land before they arrive.” He glanced at her. “And don’t trust any of them.”

She didn’t need the warning, but she let it pass without comment.

“Whoever tried to use the twins might decide to put an end to this investigation by killing us, too,” he added. He drove away from the ranch and turned onto the main road. “They’ve already proven they’ll cross every line.”

Remi nodded. “Which is why we don’t give them a single opening.”

“We don’t give them a single opening,” he repeated, and it sounded dangerous. Like a declaration of war.

The inn came into view in less than a minute, a hulking shadow against the backdrop of the moonlit sky. Nestled amid the trees, the unfinished building looked like something out of a horror movie.

Remi hadn’t lived in Lost Canyon when the builders had broken ground and started construction a couple of years ago, but she had heard about it. It’d been a project meant to pump some tourist dollars into the local economy, but that had obviously gone south when the builders had lost their funding and ended up in litigation. Heaven knew if and when it would ever be finished.

She supposed that the design was meant to replicate an English manor, but with the skeletal frame of its walls and the boarded-up window openings, it had the eerie presence of a forgotten ruin rather than a luxury retreat. Construction stones, meant for the exterior finish, sat in haphazard piles near the entrance, some scattered across the ground. Metal scaffolding hugged the front and had fallen down in places.

Remi scanned the area as Brody slowed the cruiser, stopping about twenty yards away from the inn. Like her, he was looking for Tarrant, but he shook his head.

“No sign of him,” Brody muttered.

No. The weasel was staying out of sight. But there were plenty of places for him to hide.

“Tarrant’s playing every advantage here,” she said. “Shadows, cover, the high ground. He picked this place for a reason.”

Brody made a sound of agreement, and they continued to keep watch.

The minutes crawled by, stretching Remi’s nerves thin. Every shadow around the construction site felt like a potential threat, every rustling breeze like something waiting to strike.

A sharp slash of headlights cut through the darkness, grabbing Remi’s attention, and moments later a sleek, dark-colored car rolled up and stopped several yards away. The engine idled, but no one stepped out.

“It’s Christina’s car,” Brody relayed to her after using his phone to run the license plate.

Remi watched as Christina lowered her window. “Where is the SOB who killed my sister?” she shouted, her voice carrying loud and clear.

Brody huffed and lowered his own window—just an inch, just enough. “Hiding,” he shouted back.

Christina made a sound of disgust. “Hiding like the coward he is!”

Brody cursed under his breath. The last thing they needed was to antagonize Tarrant into doing something reckless. But maybe, just maybe, he would remember that he needed to keep Maria alive and unharmed to use her as leverage.

Remi scanned the darkness, searching for any movement. They still hadn’t heard from Tarrant, hadn’t seen any sign of him. But she could feel him watching. Waiting. Of course, he might not be watching from within the inn. Tarrant could have taken up position elsewhere and be ready to attack.

Not exactly a thought to steady her nerves.

Her pulse kicked up a notch as Christina shouted out again. “Tarrant, show yourself now.”