Six-Gun Showdown. Delores Fossen

need a totally clear head to know that this could turn out to be a huge mistake—no matter what they did.

      “Do you see anything on the scanner?” he asked his brother.

      Jericho shook his head. “I don’t even see Cord.”

      “He’s wearing some kind of thermal blanket,” Paige explained. “The kind hunters use. It’ll make it harder to be seen on infrared.”

      That meant the killer and/or his henchmen could have done the same thing. And probably had. After all, this killer had gotten away with murder for years, so he wasn’t an idiot.

      But what was he exactly?

      Deranged? Obsessed? Or was this more personal for him?

      Then it hit him. The Moonlight Strangler had gone after Paige because he considered her a spawn of his victim and believed she didn’t deserve to live. The killer probably wouldn’t want the victim’s grandson to live, either. It sickened Jax to think his little boy had any connection to something like that.

      “I guess I also don’t want to know why Cord was in on this little plan and I wasn’t?” Jericho asked.

      “Jax didn’t know about the plan until a few minutes ago,” Paige informed him.

      “And yet you’re still going along with it,” Jericho mumbled. “Yeah, nothing could go wrong with trusting your ex-wife who let you believe she was dead.”

      Jax ignored his brother’s sarcasm and double-checked the Glock in the back waist of his jeans. It’d likely be detected right away, but he might get lucky and be able to keep it.

      “You see anyone?” Jax asked him.

      “No. But like you said, we don’t know the range on this thing. Somebody could still be out there, hiding under a thermal wrap. Somebody who’ll kill you. That vest isn’t going to protect you from a head shot.”

      Nor a shot that would incapacitate him in some other way. “I don’t think he wants to kill me. Just Paige. And he doesn’t want to put a bullet in her.”

      Damn, that sounded ice-cold. But it was the truth. The Moonlight Strangler would want his hands on her.

      Paige went closer to his brother. She was ash pale now, and her hands were trembling. “I know you don’t owe me any favors, Jericho, but if something goes wrong, stay here to protect Matthew.”

      Jericho doled out a glare to her as if he might confirm the no-favors part, but he nodded. “I’ll protect him.”

      Jax knew his brother would. And Jax would do the same for him. “When Levi and Chase get here, tell them what’s going on. Don’t have them follow us, but if they can position themselves in front of the house and closer to the road, they might be able to give us some backup.”

      “Cord might be able to do that, too,” Paige added. “He’s got sniper training.”

      Good. Jax would take anything he could get at this point, but he really didn’t want bullets flying near the house. Too bad he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen, and that meant Paige and he needed to put as much distance between them and the house as possible.

      “We need to leave now,” Paige pressed, already starting out of the garage.

      Jax knew she was right, but he still took a moment to look around, to see if there was anything he could do to make this plan safer.

      There wasn’t.

      He could see more headlights coming from the road that led to the main ranch and to his brothers’ houses. Chase and Levi, no doubt. Jericho would have to explain to them what was happening and get in the best positions to protect Matthew.

      In the meantime, all Jax could do was get moving toward this showdown with a killer.

      Since there was no truly safe position for Paige, Jax fell into step beside her. However, he did maneuver her to his right.

      “If someone fires shots, drop down into the ditch,” he instructed, pointing at the ground. It wouldn’t be ideal protection since it was only a few feet deep, but it was better than nothing.

      He glanced back at the house to make sure Belinda wasn’t at the window. She wasn’t. Hopefully, she would stay put with Matthew in the bathroom until she got the okay from him.

      Hell.

      He hated putting his son through this. Matthew was too young to understand the danger, but he had to sense something was wrong. After all, he should be getting dinner about now, followed by reading time with his daddy. He shouldn’t have to be holed up in a bathtub, hiding from a serial killer.

      “I’m so sorry,” Paige whispered.

      “Don’t,” Jax warned her. Any apology she attempted would be useless right now and might mess with his head. “And keep watch.”

      Of course, she was already doing that. Her gaze was firing all around them. Jax couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard her mumble a prayer. Good. Because he was certainly saying a few of them, too.

      Paige took out her phone, checked the screen. No doubt for an update from Cord or the killer. But there was nothing on the screen. Ditto for his own phone. No word yet from his brothers. Jax decided to believe that was good news, because if they’d spotted someone in the area, Jericho would have certainly let him know about it.

      The road wasn’t long, less than a quarter of a mile from his house to the highway that led into town. It wasn’t a straight shot, though. It’d once been an old ranch trail, and it coiled around massive oaks and other trees that dotted the acres of land. Those deep curves in the road would no doubt prevent Cord or his brothers from being able to see what was going on.

      There were no lights out here, but it wasn’t pitch dark yet. Soon would be, though.

      And there was a moon.

      Since the killer had struck only on nights with a visible moon and left the crescent shaped cuts on his victims’ cheeks, that’s how he’d earned his nickname. Maybe he wouldn’t add another victim or two to his list tonight.

      “Still no text from him,” Paige mumbled, checking her phone again.

      No text from his brothers, either, but Jax did spot something. So did Paige because she stopped, and they both stared at the truck ahead. It was parked right where the ranch road met the highway. The lights were off, and it was positioned so that it blocked any vehicle from getting on or off the ranch. Unfortunately, this made it impossible for Jax to read the license plates, although they were probably stolen, anyway.

      “You see anyone inside?” Paige asked.

      Jax had to shake his head. Too dark, and the windows had a dark tint, too. He fired off a text to Jericho. Try to use the scanner. You might not be able to see it, but there’s a truck parked at the end of the road.

      Then he turned to Paige to tell her to text Cord and ask him to do the same thing, but Paige was already in the process of taking care of that.

      Nothing, Jericho texted back. I got a glimpse of the truck through the trees, but it’s too far away for the scanner.

      Yeah, that’s what Jax figured, and he also figured that’s why the killer had parked it in that particular location.

      “Cord’s not getting anything on his scanner,” Paige relayed to Jax when she got a response. “He’s too far away to see the truck and is going to try to move closer. He’ll be careful,” she added.

      No doubt. But careful might not be nearly good enough.

      Jax didn’t draw his gun, but he kept his hand over it, and he started toward the truck again. Still no sign of anyone inside, and Paige and he were still a good fifteen yards away when her phone dinged with a text message.

      Not Cord this time.

      “It’s from the killer,” she said, showing