“I do,” she said. She slipped the towel off her shoulders and headed for the door. A rush of wind and rain lashed against her face as she ran across the driveway and climbed into the truck. A streak of lightning blazed in the sky. Panic pressed down on her. “I’m really scared for Timmy, Seb.”
“I know, Tace. Me, too. But we’re going to find him. I promise.”
“I’m worried about my grandfather, too.”
“He wasn’t home when Steven and I checked. But we don’t need to jump to any conclusions.”
She turned sideways in her seat and looked at Seb. His eyes were fixed ahead, and the set of his mouth was resolute. It seemed impossible that less than a week ago, he didn’t even know that he had a son. But as soon as he found out, he was all in. It wasn’t often that she felt an urge to open her heart, but this was one of those rare moments. Right now, before everything else got in the way, she needed to tell Seb that she was sorry—for everything.
“Seb. And all that stuff I said before when we argued about you moving to DC? I want you to know that we’ll make things work, no matter where you decide to live.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay, Tace. I’ve already decided to turn down the job with the FBI.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She was tired of pretending that she didn’t care.
“I’m glad. I just hope you can forgive me for waiting so long to tell you about Timmy.”
There. She had said it. She had put aside her fears and opened her heart. It must have been the right thing to say because Seb reached over and took her hand. Their fingers touched for only a minute, but it was enough to show that he had forgiven her.
There didn’t seem much need to say more after that. Especially since their minds and hearts were focused on finding Timmy.
The sheriff’s office was in chaos from the storm. With all of the accidents and stranded motorists on the roads, resources were stretched thin, and only a skeleton staff remained behind to manage the radios. The sheriff himself had been called out to deal with a rollover involving multiple fatalities and a semi jackknifed across the road. But the kidnapping of a child took immediate precedence. The desk clerk ushered them into a small room, where the deputy in charge was quick to respond. They were assured that all available personnel would be mobilized immediately. An Amber Alert was issued. The FBI was notified, and so were the police in Bismarck and Fargo and Grand Forks.
The deputy glanced up from the paperwork scattered over her desk. “Do either of you have a picture of Timothy? Maybe on your phone or in your wallet?”
Tacy reached into her purse to pull out her phone, but Seb beat her to it. “I took this the other day when we were playing baseball.”
The deputy nodded. “I’ll make a copy, and we’ll get it out on the wire.”
Tacy slid her own phone across the desk. “Timmy was using my cell as a flashlight when he was abducted. I found it by the front door. Maybe you can pull some prints.”
The deputy opened the desk drawer and took out a plastic bag. “We’ll check on that and get your phone back so you’ll have it in case the kidnapper calls. Our mobile task force will be out to the ranch to monitor all your devices as soon as the towers come back up. In the meantime, we’re going to stay on this, checking the wire and monitoring any information coming in from federal and local agencies.”
The deputy was true to her word. A quarter of an hour later, they had their phones back and were headed through the empty corridor leading out of the station.
“Wait.” An authoritative voice halted them in their tracks. They turned to see the deputy rushing to stop them at the door.
“We just had a report of yet another multi-car crash,” she said. “It might make sense to wait the storm out here.”
Seb shook his head. “I appreciate the advice, but we need to get home.”
“Okay. But take it slow and easy.” She turned and disappeared into a room in the middle of the hall.
Tacy took a deep breath and pushed back tears. “I’m scared, Seb. What if no one calls? What if this isn’t a kidnapping? What if...”
“Tacy, stop. Someone will call.”
She shook her head. She could only pray.
EIGHTEEN
Back at the ranch, everyone was still in the kitchen, listening to the radio. Sandy stood up to meet them at the door. “What did the sheriff say about Timmy?”
Tacy shook her head. A wave of hopelessness washed over her. There was nothing positive to report. The kidnapper was still out there. The phone lines were still down. And her baby was still missing.
Scott took one look at their faces and stood up. “It’s getting late. Let’s all try to get some sleep.” After a brief discussion, it was agreed that Tacy should take Seb’s bedroom. Seb had insisted on staying on the main floor to keep watch, and she didn’t have the energy to argue. Her body felt drained and her head foggy.
Her face must have reflected her distress because Scott clapped an arm around her shoulder, giving a kind squeeze. “I know this is tough, but things will look better in the morning.”
Could that be true? Probably not, but there was nothing to do but trudge up the stairs, leaving Seb behind, tucking a fresh sheet around the corners of the couch.
Slowly and carefully, she went through the motions of preparing for bed. Washed her face and brushed her teeth. Plumped the pillows and turned down the quilt on the bed. But all she could think about was Timmy. Was he hurt? Was he frightened? She stretched out and tried to sleep. Twisted and turned. Flipped onto her back and pushed her sweat-soaked hair off her forehead as an icy fear seeped through her veins. What if her son was dead?
She pounded her fists against the mattress. She had no tears left to cry. All that remained was a paralyzing anxiety. And anger at herself for letting her guard down and allowing Timmy to wander from her sight.
The whole evening had been a colossal exercise in frustration. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe everything would sort itself out in the morning—but that sure seemed hard to believe.
The morning. When did that officially begin, anyway?
She looked at the time on her old clock on the nightstand. 3:07. Still too early to get up and go downstairs. She flipped back over onto her stomach, closed her eyes and forced her body to relax. Slowly, she drifted off.
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Her body jerked upright. Was that her cell? The towers must be back up and working if someone had sent her a text.
She needed to tell Seb about the phones immediately. But...wait. Her eyes were drawn to the words piling up in neat columns on the screen.
For your eyes only.
Your grandfather has gold coins hidden at the ranch. Find them.
If you want to see your son again, bring them to the ledge on Shepherd’s Peak.
Come alone.
Tacy scrolled back up and reread the texts. Gold coins in exchange for Timmy. She could do that. The harder part to swallow was that the person had told her to come alone. She longed to talk to Seb to see what he thought. But that might anger the kidnapper and put Timmy in danger. And Seb might tell her not to go, or insist that they wait to consult with the sheriff.
Who knew how long that could take? She took a breath and made a decision.
If Seb was awake when she came down the stairs, she’d show him the text. But if he was asleep, she’d handle it herself.
She grabbed her shoes, slipped on her jeans and sweatshirt and crept down the steps. Seb was curled up on his side, facing the back of the couch. He didn’t move as she walked by him toward the kitchen. Well, that settled that. The keys to his truck were on the counter by the stove. She snagged them and slipped out the door.
The rain had finally stopped, but mud sloshed under her feet as she dashed toward the barn. If memory served her, Seb kept his climbing gear hooked along the back wal
l of the hayloft. She swung open the door and flicked on the overhead light. She sat down and pulled on her sneakers as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Yes! There, propped between the riding mower and a wheelbarrow was a helmet, a set of ropes, and a plastic bag full of carabiners.
She stuffed everything into a backpack, and, a minute later, she was on the road. The beams of her headlights illuminated a rain-slicked tarmac covered with fallen branches and puddles full of water from the storm.
Should she have left Seb a note to tell him where she was going? Probably. Her fingers clenched the steering wheel. But if she’d left a note, Seb might come after her, and the text had said to come alone. She wasn’t about to take any chances with Timmy’s life.
Was Lois the kidnapper? The answer to that question kept changing in her brain. Wouldn’t Lois know how to access her grandfather’s stash of gold? But if not Lois, who else could it be?
The ranch house was dark as she pulled into the driveway. She slipped her key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, trying to calculate the most likely place to find the coins.
She let the beam of her flashlight rove through the small storage space under the stairs. It had been her favorite hiding place when she was a kid, but it seemed unlikely that anything valuable would be hidden in there. She bent down and peered inside. Just as she thought. Nothing but cobwebs and dust. A memory popped into her brain. She had been about ten when she had come into the kitchen to see her grandfather dropping coins into an old coffee can. He’d winked at her and offered some sage advice. “If there’s something you want to keep secret, hide it in plain sight.”
In plain sight. She walked into the kitchen and looked around. She began opening cabinets, but there was nothing inside but everyday dishes and glassware, stacked neatly on the shelves. What about the pantry? She let her gaze scrape over the cereal boxes and rows of canned vegetables. After a moment, her eyes lit upon the bent edge of an oversized can at the back of the bottom shelf. She pushed aside a couple of jars of sweet pickles, and there it was. The very same can she had seen her grandfather holding in the kitchen all those years ago. It was heavy. And it jangled when she picked it up. She was about to pry open the top when the clip-clopping of boots against the kitchen floor alerted her that someone had come into the room.
Could it be her grandfather? Seb had checked earlier and said he hadn’t been home. But what if Seb was wrong—or her grandfather had arrived back in the hours since then? Or maybe it was Lois. Her eyes darted to the left and to the right. There wasn’t anywhere to hide. The footsteps were getting closer. Tension rose like a fever in her heart.
Click. The pantry light blinked on. Her stomach churned with disappointment. Not her grandfather. She stared up at the bemused face of Len Jones.
“Tacy-girl! What are you doing here? I saw the light and assumed it was Mr. Tolbert.”
Her heart was still pounding against her rib cage as she scrambled to find words. “No. No. It’s me. I came here to get something.”
Len gave her a curious look. “What could be so important to bring you here this early in the morning? I heard you were staying at the Hunts. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” She tried to hide the shaking in her voice as his eyes zeroed in on the battered can she was clutching in her arms.
“What’ll you be wanting with that old thing?” Len asked.
“Nothing, really. I just need to take it with me. Trust me, okay?”
“Well, sure I trust you. You being a Tolbert and all. But maybe we should let someone know that...”
Her cell vibrated in her pocket, and she checked the screen. Her breath hitched. Another text.
She turned away from Len to read it. But there was nothing to read. It was just a map of Shepherd’s Peak with an X on the ledge near the top.
Len moved beside her. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help? I know my way around these parts like the back of my hand.” He gave her a shrewd look.
An overwhelming desire to take him up on his offer crashed down on her, but she squared her shoulders and shook her head.
No one could help her. The message had said she needed to come alone.
“I appreciate it, Len. But no. I’ve got to leave now. But thanks for watching the house and for everything.”
She pulled the can against her chest and backed out of the pantry. It was heavier than she expected, and her fingers itched to look inside. But she didn’t want to raise Len’s suspicions any more than she already had. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked toward the truck.
Slipping the key in the ignition, she gave a quick wave as she backed down the driveway and turned onto the main road.
She drove for five minutes before pulling over. What if the can was filled with rusty old nails? Even though she was in a hurry, she had to stop and make sure. She pried the lid off and stared down at a glittering pile of loose coins. She picked one up and weighed it in her hand. It felt cold and substantial. Didn’t people in movies and books always check to see if the gold was real by biting it? She brought the coin to her lips and bit down. It was surprisingly supple. She tossed it back into the can and pushed down on the lid, and then she merged back onto the road.
It was a thirty-minute drive to Shepherd’s Peak, but if she kept a heavy foot on the accelerator, she could make it in under twenty. Threads of light were already beginning to show in the eastern sky as the speedometer hovered at seventy.
She approached the final turn to the cliffs, still wavering about which way to go. If she chose the quicker route around the front of the rocky outcropping, she’d need to climb to reach the ledge. Could she do so encumbered with a backpack full of extra weight? The memory of what had happened ten years ago still filled her with dread.
The second option, the easier option, was to take the path along the back of the plateau. But the narrow trail had been designed for ATVs. She’d never reach the top in Seb’s truck, and going on foot would slow her down tremendously.
She tightened her grip on the wheel and pushed the speed up to seventy-five.
Dread washed over her. She was going to have to climb.
* * *
Seb didn’t expect to fall asleep folded up like a taco on the living room couch. But he must have dozed off, at least for a while, because when he looked at his phone, the time flashed five a.m.
Wait. He rubbed the grit from his eyes. Forget the time. His cell had four bars. The towers must be up. That was just the jolt of adrenaline he needed to power him awake.
He headed into the kitchen and flicked on the light. Great. Now they were in business. The power was back, too.
Cody looked up from his bed and yawned in greeting.
“Hey, boy,” He said, ruffling the pup’s furry head. “Looks like it’s going to be just you and me for a while.”
He dropped a dark roast pod into the Keurig and leaned against the counter to watch the machine hiss and puff out six ounces of strong java. He took his cup over to the table and sipped. Now that the cell towers were back up, it wouldn’t be long before the FBI arrived to set up their equipment to monitor the phones. Plus, a glance out the window showed that the rain had stopped, which meant the search for Timmy could begin in earnest.
But he had no intention of sitting around and waiting for the kidnapper to make contact when he could be figuring out where Lois or Gunnar had stashed Timmy.
Cody’s wet nose pressed against his hand, and the pup’s liquid brown eyes looked up at him beseechingly.
“You’re ready for your chow?”
Cody thumped his tail and nudged next to him as he walked to the cupboard and measured out a cup of dried food and poured it into the bowl. Hard to believe a pup could be that desperate for breakfast.
His eagerness reminded him of Timmy. He paced across the kitchen, the need to be proactive itching across his brain. If nothing else, he
could re-review his notes on the case. But his computer was on his desk in the room where Tacy was sleeping. He decided to take the risk and see if he could creep in and retrieve it without waking her up. He tiptoed up the stairs and slowly turned the knob.
What? His eyes blinked in disbelief. The bed was empty, and there was a pile of rumpled sheets on the floor. His heartbeat quickened. Where was Tacy? He tried for calming breaths. There was probably a good reason why she wasn’t in bed. She was probably right around the corner or somewhere down the hall.
But no. He rushed toward the bathroom, but she wasn’t inside. And the upstairs porch was dark and empty. Trepidation hastened his footsteps as he ran down the stairs to check the driveway. His truck was gone. And a set of footprints in the mud led into the barn and toward the back wall where he kept his climbing gear.
The hooks were empty. What? Why?
His heart pounded. Tacy would never attempt a climb in her current state of exhaustion. Unless...
A tinge of unease spread across his chest. Unless she thought it was the only way she could rescue Timmy.
Maybe—he could only hope—she had left a message on his cell. He looked down at his phone and saw a missed call.
But it wasn’t from Tacy. It was from Len Jones.
Why would the Tolberts’ ranch hand be trying to reach him at four thirty in the morning? He hit the return button, and waited for Len to answer.
“Hey, this is Seb Hunt. You wanted to talk to me?”
“Sure thing, Seb.” Len’s tone was slow and easy. As if he had all the time in the world. “Tacy came by here a while ago and was poking around the kitchen. She seemed pretty upset. I’ve always had the impression that the two of you had a bit of history, so I thought you might like to know.”
“Do you know what she was looking for?”
“I’m not rightly sure. But she was hanging on to an old coffee can, and she seemed to be in an awful hurry.”
Fatal Ranch Reunion Page 16
