Ranch Hideout. Sandra Robbins
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realized her mistakes too late. First, she shouldn’t have dawdled in the theater lobby studying the posters for coming attractions when the movie was over. By the time she exited the building, the parking lot had emptied, and her car sat in its lone spot in the late afternoon’s gathering darkness. Second, she really should have been more attentive to her surroundings. If she had been, she would have heard the man’s footsteps behind her, and she could have made a run for it.
Now she found herself pressed face-first against the driver’s side of her car with her hands splayed against the window, her keys dangling from her fingers. A choking sound escaped her throat as a hand tightened around her neck, and her attacker pressed a gun against her head.
A sudden gust of wind swished her long skirt around her legs, but she trembled more from fear than from the cold. A man’s face rubbed against her cheek, and the fabric of the ski mask he wore scratched her skin. The smell of tobacco assaulted her senses as his warm breath rippled over her face. “Don’t make a noise, lady, or it’ll be the last one you ever make.”
Liz closed her eyes and tried to keep from retching. “Wh-what do you want?”
“Let’s start with your money,” he said. His body kept her pinned against the car as one hand pushed the gun harder against her head and the other rifled through her jacket pockets. He pulled her cell phone out and threw it to the ground before he reached back in for her wallet.
The reprieve of his hold on her neck gave her the opportunity to glance over her shoulder. His attention was directed to the cash in her wallet. A moment later, he snorted in disgust, and the gun pressed against her head again.
“Fifty dollars?” he snarled. “You only carry fifty dollars?”
“I—I never carry much money,” she answered.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he laughed. “Well, I was thinking we’d take a little drive anyway. I see you have a debit card. Maybe we’ll make a stop first at your bank. You can go through the ATM and get some cash.”
“No, please,” she begged. “Just take the money and go.”
The gun dug harder into her temple, and she closed her eyes in anticipation of the bullet that was about to end her life. He chuckled and brought his mouth back to her ear. “It’s either go to the ATM, or we’ll end it right here with a bullet.”
“I-if I go to the ATM and give you the money, will you let me go then?”
He chuckled. “Sure I will.”
The mocking tone of his voice told her he had no intention of letting her go. If she left the parking lot with him, he would kill her. The wilderness of the Smoky Mountains provided the perfect spot to dispose of a body that might never be found. And to think, she had come here to be safe—to escape from the danger she’d left back home. How ironic.
Liz pressed her hands against the car window harder to keep from collapsing. If she was to live, she had to do something. But what?
The man released her neck and grabbed hold of her arm. “Now, don’t make a sound as we get in the car. If you do...”
Before he could follow through on his threat, his grip on her released, and he let out a strangled cry of pain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him fall to the ground, and she whirled to see what had happened.
A man she’d never seen before bent over her attacker. She gasped as the mugger raised his gun. Before he could fire, her rescuer delivered a swift kick, and the weapon sailed across the pavement. He then slammed his foot down on her assailant’s arm and pinned it to the ground as he reached down, grabbed the man’s shirt tight enough to pull his head up and delivered a solid blow to his jaw. Her attacker fell back unconscious.
The stranger reached for the gun on the ground and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans before he turned to her. “Are you all right?”
She pressed her hand to her chest and nodded. “Yes, but if you’d been a few seconds later, I don’t think I would have been.”
“You’re safe now.” He directed his attention back to the man still on the ground, but he hadn’t moved.
He picked up her cell phone. “Is this yours?”
She nodded, and he handed it to her before he pulled his from his pocket and punched in 911. “My name is Gabriel Decker. I’m at the Cinema Theater. A man attacked a woman in the parking lot, and I’ve subdued him. I need officers right away.”
He paused as he listened to the voice on the phone before he spoke again. “Thanks.”
He ended the call and looked down at his prisoner, who was just beginning to stir. “I’ve called the police,” he told the mugger. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. Until then, if I were you, I wouldn’t try anything stupid. I know how to use a gun, and I’ll pull the trigger if you move a muscle.”
With one swift movement he reached down and jerked the mask from the man’s face. Liz took a step back to distance herself from the cruel eyes that glared up at her. She’d heard the expression if looks could kill many times, but she’d never seen such hatred on anyone’s face.
“Do you know this guy?” Gabriel’s voice penetrated her thoughts, and she shook her head.
She might not know him, but the threat she’d heard in his voice had set off warning bells in her head. She knew he’d meant to kill her. Had he picked her at random to target in a parking lot, or was it something more? Had the trouble she’d left behind found her again?
She slowly shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen him.” It had to be just a coincidence that she’d been attacked. She couldn’t allow this random crime to make her paranoid or she’d never feel safe going anywhere again.
The sound of a siren split the air, and a squad car with its lights flashing rolled into the parking lot. Two men jumped out and walked toward them. She recognized them right away. She’d met Sheriff Ben Whitman and his deputy Luke Conrad soon after she’d come to Sevier County a few weeks ago.
Sheriff Whitman frowned as his gaze swept over her. “Are you okay, Liz?”
She nodded. “I am, thanks to Mr. Decker.”
He turned his attention to her rescuer, who stuck out his hand. “Gabriel Decker, Sheriff. I’m the one who made the call to 911.”
Sheriff Whitman shook his hand and then tugged the brim of his Stetson lower over his eyes. “And where were you when this was taking place?”
“I had just come out of the theater when I saw the man push her against her car. I rushed over as fast as I could.”
“That was quick thinking.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Well, I knew it wasn’t a friendly encounter when I realized he had that gun pressed to her head. I’m just glad I could help.”
Deputy Conrad reached down and yanked the man to his feet. “Face the car and put your hands behind your back.”
Her attacker delivered another withering glance her way before he did as the officer ordered. When Luke had snapped handcuffs on him, he searched the man’s pockets for some identification. After a moment, empty-handed, he looked at the sheriff and shook his head.
“What’s your name?” Luke demanded.
His question was met with silence. “I’ll ask you again. What’s your name?” Still nothing.
Ben shrugged. “So he wants to play hardball. Well, we can, too. Read him his rights, Luke, and put him in the backseat of the squad car.” He watched until Luke had their prisoner secured, then turned back to her. “I’ve heard Mr. Decker’s account. Now tell me yours, Liz.”
For the next few minutes she related what happened from when she left the theater until the officers arrived. She ended by glancing at Gabriel Decker. “I really believe he meant to kill me. If Mr. Decker hadn’t come