Page 11 of Protecting the Newborn

Even though the woman had never given him a single reason not to trust her, Ruston was going to err on the side of caution here.

“What happened?” Charla demanded the moment Ruston answered the call.

Since that question could encompass a whole lot of things, Ruston took the safe route with this as well. “My cover was blown. Again. Any idea how that happened?”

There was silence for a long time, and then Charla cursed. “Blown? How? Are you hurt?”

Ruston didn’t answer any of those questions but instead went with two of his own. “Why did you ask what’d happened? Why did you suspect something was wrong?”

That brought on more muttered profanity from Charla. “Because I’ve got a dead body on my hands. And judging from the crime scene, someone’s trying to set you up for the murder.”

Chapter Four

Gracelyn’s heartbeat was still pounding in her ears, but she had no trouble hearing what Charla had just said.

Dead body.

Gracelyn had to choke back a sob because her mind instantly jumped to whose body that might be. Her sister’s.

Sweet heaven, had Allie been murdered?

That was her first thought. Because if someone had come after Allie’s baby and her, then they might have gone after Allie as well. Gracelyn needed to know the answer, but she wasn’t sure she could handle it right now. Not coming on the heels of this attack that could have killed Ruston, Abigail and her.

“Who’s dead?” Ruston asked.

Since Gracelyn didn’t want Charla to know she was in the vehicle with Ruston, she stayed quiet. Waiting and praying.

“Marty Bennett,” Charla provided. “He was found dead at his house in San Antonio. A single gunshot wound to the head.”

Gracelyn felt the relief wash over her, but it didn’t last. Yes, she was so thankful it hadn’t been Allie, but Marty Bennett was the man who’d hired Ruston to kidnap Abigail and her.

Why was he dead?

Since he was a criminal, there could be plenty of reasons for his murder, but Gracelyn figured the man’s death wasn’t a coincidence. It had to be connected to this attack by those two thugs in the truck.

“Are you there, Ruston?” Charla asked.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, and Gracelyn saw that, like her, he was still keeping watch around them while he drove. “I didn’t kill him. Why do you think someone’s trying to make it look as if I did?”

“Because whoever did kill him left your badge at the scene,” Charla was quick to reply.

Ruston cursed under his breath. “My actual badge or a fake?”

“Looks like the real deal to me. Where did you last see it?”

He muttered yet more profanity. “In my apartment in San Antonio. Not the one I rent under my current cover, but my actual apartment under my real name. It’s nowhere near the one I use for cover, and there are only a handful of people who know about it.”

Gracelyn wondered if one of those people was Charla. Or any other cops. If not, it still meant the person behind this knew way too much about Ruston.

“I have a decent security system at the apartment,” Ruston went on, “and I didn’t get an alert that it’d been triggered.”

“Do you have security cams?” Charla asked.

“No, but there are some on the street in front and back of the building.”

“They’ll be checked,” Charla assured him. “I’ll send someone over there now.”

“No,” Ruston said firmly. “Hold off on that. Uh, I’m not sure who to trust on this. With my cover blown, there could be some kind of leak.”

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