Confiscated Conception. Delores Fossen

and Smith and sped along the gravel road in front of the house. His best chance was to make it to the highway and try to outrun the two cops. And maybe, just maybe, those Texas Rangers at the checkpoint wouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later.

      Of course, escape from the safe house was just the first hurdle. He didn’t want to speculate how many hurdles they had ahead of them after that.

      Or what those hurdles might be.

      Even some serious detective work and a fair amount luck might not be enough to help them find the child—and stay ahead of danger.

      “Are they following us?” Rachel asked.

      Jared glanced in the side and rearview mirrors. “Not yet.”

      But he quickly had to amend that. The moment the words left his mouth, he saw the dark gray car barrel out of the garage, coming right after them.

      “They’re behind us,” he said. “Stay down. The tires are bullet resistant, but they might try to shoot them out anyway.”

      “Oh God.” She mumbled another curse under her breath. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

      He was asking himself the same thing. Jared tried not to think beyond saving this child that might be theirs. But even if they managed to get the baby out of harm’s way and put Esterman behind bars, there would be consequences.

      Huge ones.

      After all, he was essentially kidnapping his soon-to-be ex-wife so he could obstruct justice. The department certainly wasn’t going to see that in a favorable light, no matter how good his intentions. When this was over, he’d have some serious explaining to do.

      Jared kept his eyes on the zigzagging road and spotted the Rangers’ checkpoint station just ahead. Both men were there. Waiting. The detectives must have alerted them, because the Rangers had angled their car to create a roadblock.

      Without slowing down, Jared veered around them, using every inch of the grassy shoulder, and raced past the checkpoint. As he’d figured they would do, the Rangers jumped into their vehicle and followed in pursuit. They wouldn’t just give up and let him leave the area with Rachel.

      “What now?” she asked.

      She lifted her head and looked out the side mirror. Jared pushed her right back down. If the officers tried to shoot out the tires and missed, he didn’t want Rachel to become the victim of “friendly” fire.

      Rachel didn’t exactly cooperate. The minute his hand was off her shoulder, she slipped right back up in the seat and pinned her gaze to the mirror, and their pursuers. From her soft gasp, she obviously knew things weren’t going well.

      He took the next curve, and the other cars made the turn along with him. And worse. Jared saw the detectives drop back so the Rangers could overtake them. One of the Rangers leaned out of the window and aimed his weapon at the tires.

      Hell.

      Jared pushed Rachel down in the seat again. He definitely didn’t want her to get a good look at that rifle. With her fear of firearms, she might have a panic attack. There wasn’t time for that.

      He didn’t slow down. Jared kept the pressure on the accelerator and snaked over both lanes so the tires wouldn’t be such easy targets. Unfortunately, that didn’t protect them from a quick jab of Murphy’s Law.

      “Hang on,” Jared warned.

      At seemingly a snail’s pace, an old beat-up truck hauling a flatbed of hay pulled out from a side road and directly into their path. He managed to swerve around it. Barely. The car jerked to the right when he clipped the ditch. Jared corrected and then corrected again so he wouldn’t broadside a tree.

      He heard the sound of metal scraping and buckling and saw the cause of that noise in his rearview mirror. The Rangers and detectives hadn’t been so lucky in avoiding an accident.

      They’d sideswiped each other to avoid the truck, and the impact had sent both cars careering into a waist-high ditch. Everyone looked unharmed, but their vehicles were temporarily out of commission. It’d probably take a tow truck to get them back on the road.

      Jared didn’t waste any time. He stomped on the accelerator and got them out of there.

      “We can’t follow the highway,” he said.

      He sped toward the farm road that he’d already checked out. By his estimation, it would take five minutes to get there and another five minutes to start working their way through the maze of back roads that would eventually lead them to the cabin.

      “They’ll set up blocks to find us.”

      When she didn’t respond, Jared glanced at her. Rachel was no longer sitting low in the seat. Nor did she have her attention focused on the accident behind them. Rather, she was looking at the envelope and the photograph that had fallen out of his jacket pocket.

      “Who is she?” Rachel asked.

      The picture lay between them. The gruesome image that he hadn’t wanted Rachel to see.

      Jared checked the mirror again to make sure they weren’t being followed. They weren’t, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. He hadn’t intended to get into an explanation like this until they were someplace safe. Of course, he didn’t have a clue when that would be.

      He tried to put the picture of the dead woman back into the envelope, but Rachel pushed his hand away.

      “Esterman’s people sent this to you, didn’t they.” Rachel’s voice was ragged, laced with nerves and adrenaline, but there was fire there as well.

      Jared knew exactly how she felt. He’d had the same reaction the first time he saw it. It wasn’t any easier the second time around. “Yeah. It was in the envelope with the letter and the photo of the baby.”

      He debated how much more he should tell her, but the debate didn’t last long. This was a critical piece of information that he couldn’t keep from Rachel. She’d risked as much as he had by leaving the safe house. Besides, he needed her cooperation, and this unfortunately might do it.

      “I computer-matched that photo to the one in her police record,” Jared explained. “Her name is Sasha Young. She did time for forgery, and she’s—”

      “The surrogate mother,” Rachel finished. “The woman who supposedly gave birth to our child.” She paused and moistened her lips. “They murdered her?”

      Oh, man. This wasn’t an easy thing to discuss with Rachel. If the people behind this would kill a young woman, they probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. But then, Rachel must have come to that same conclusion. If she hadn’t truly thought a child was in danger, she wouldn’t have climbed out that window with him.

      “It appears they murdered her,” Jared admitted.

      She narrowed her eyes. “Appears? That’s twice you’ve used that word today, and it’s starting to annoy me. Cut the doublespeak, Jared. Is she dead, or is this a doctored photo to scare us into doing what Esterman wants?”

      If he hadn’t been so concerned over what they were about to face, he might have smiled. Might have. Here, he’d expected the news to send Rachel into a near panic. And it no doubt had. But even so, she was holding herself together—for now, anyway. However, they weren’t even close to finishing this.

      “I don’t know if she’s really dead,” he admitted. “I checked the morgue, and there’s no Jane Doe fitting her description, but that doesn’t mean anything. They could have taken that picture and then disposed of the body so that it wouldn’t be found—ever.”

      “Yes.” Rachel took a deep breath, and another, and rested her head against the seat.

      “I know this isn’t easy, and I’m sorry.” That picture probably reminded her of her own murdered parents. It was the main reason Jared hadn’t been eager to show it to her.

      Her