Santa's Sweetheart (The Christmas Tree Ranch #4)(44)
“Hurry up, old man,” the gunman’s voice was high-pitched, his speech slightly slurred. “No tricks, or you’ll be scrapin’ bodies off your nice, clean floor. Which one do you think I should shoot first? The little snot-faced brat, maybe? Or the mom?”
“You can have the money and anything else you want.” Walt’s voice quivered as he lifted the tray out of the register and scooped out the bills underneath. “But please, for the love of God, don’t hurt them. Just take the cash and go. We’ll say we never saw you.”
Sam shifted his position. Raising his head a few inches, he could see where the robber was pointing his pistol.
A terrified-looking young woman crouched against a display rack, her body shielding two small boys.
Chapter Eleven
Sam made a quick assessment of the situation. The gunman appeared to be high on drugs, which meant his behavior could be erratic. He might take the money and leave, or he might get nervous and start shooting. Anything could happen.
There was something else to consider. The young man had walked into the store unmasked. There were two adult witnesses who would have no trouble describing him to the police or picking out his mug shot. Either he hadn’t given a thought to what might happen, or he was a cold-blooded murderer, planning to kill everybody in the place before he left, as he’d already threatened to do.
Training and experience had taught Sam to assume the worst. If he were to speak and identify himself, even a word could trigger a shooting frenzy. He would be risking the lives of four innocent people, including two children.
As he was debating his options, all hell broke loose.
The older of the two boys tore away from his mother and bolted for the front door. With the robber distracted for an instant, Walt whipped a pistol from under the counter and fired.
Wounded in the shoulder, the young man staggered, reeled, and dropped his weapon. Sam charged in and kicked the semiautomatic pistol out of reach. Jamming his gun against the young man’s neck, he forced him to the floor.
“Run!” Sam shouted to the mother. “Grab your boys and get out!”
The woman scrambled to her feet, scooped up her youngest, caught her other boy at the door, and raced outside.
Sam reached back for the handcuffs on his belt. “Get that pistol, Walt. Then get to the phone and call—”
The words died in his throat as he caught a flicker of movement behind him. The gunshot rang out before he had time to react. He felt the sickening burn of the bullet piercing his body as he pitched sideways, onto the floor.
Through the enfolding darkness, he heard voices.
“Jeez, Trixie, you just shot a cop! We got to get out of here! Grab the money!”
“Forget the damned money! The old guy’s disappeared and he’s got a gun! Come on!”
Sam heard the sound of running footsteps and the slamming of car doors. As the Camaro roared into the distance, the images in his mind faded to black.
*
With ten minutes to go before the bell, Grace was leading her class through the verses of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” when one of the office volunteers opened the door a few inches.
“Excuse me, Miss Chapman,” she said. “You’re needed in the office right now. I can stay and supervise your class.”
“Thanks. They’re just singing. If I’m not back by the time the bell rings, please make sure they have everything they need, then line them up and let them go.”
Worry gnawed at Grace as she hurried down the hall. What could be urgent enough for the office to call her out of class? Had Ed Judkins found some crime to pin on her? She felt in the pocket of her blazer for Jess’s minirecorder. It was there, and she knew how to use it. Whatever the problem, she needed to be prepared.
But it wasn’t the principal who met her at the entrance to the office. It was the school secretary, Emmaline Spicer.
“We have an emergency with one of your students, Grace,” she said. “It’s Maggie Delaney, the sheriff’s daughter. Her father’s been shot.”
The shock slammed Grace like a head-on collision with a glass wall.
Oh, no! Not Sam. Please, not Sam!
She fought to hide her reaction from the secretary. “What can you tell me? How did it happen? Where is he?”
“It was the clerk at the sheriff’s office who called. There was a robbery at the feed and hardware store. The sheriff happened to be there and got shot trying to stop it. He’s been taken to the hospital in Cottonwood Springs for surgery. That’s all I know. But that poor little girl has no other family at home. She lost her mother just last year. Her only grandparents are out of state. If you could take her in hand—”
“Of course. I’ll give her the news and take care of her. Right now I need to find her before she goes outside to wait for him.”
Oh, Maggie, Maggie . . . Grace knew that as terrible as the news had been for her, it would be devastating for Sam’s little girl.
She heard the bell as she raced back down the hall. Her students were already leaving. She caught Maggie in the doorway. “Come back into the room with me, Maggie.” She laid a hand on the girl’s small shoulder. “I need to talk to you.”
She resisted. “But my dad—he’ll be waiting to pick me up.”
“No, he can’t be here. There’s been a problem. Come on in.” Grace ushered her gently back into the room and closed the door as the last student left.