Cutter's Law

by Judith Rochelle

  "W-Who are you? And where am I?"

  "You are awake, senorita.” One of them flashed her a smile. “You feel okay? You don't be sick?"

  Allison started to shake her head, decided that was a very bad idea, and settled for simply saying, “No.” Then she changed her mind. “Yes. Who are you? Where am I?"

  "We're sorry, we can't tell you that,” they chorused.

  She closed her eyes again for a moment. Had she fallen asleep and woken up in a bad movie? “I demand you tell me where I am."

  "You are with us,” the darker one told her. “I am Alex and this is Jorge. But that is all we can tell you."

  "Stupido!" Jorge nudged his brother. “No names, remember?"

  Alex shrugged. “Only first names. Not so bad. We want her to feel at home, don't we?"

  At home? What the hell was going on?

  "I demand to know where I am and why I'm here.” Yeah, like she was in a position to demand anything. “And I want you to untie my hands."

  "Oh, senorita.” Jorge looked very sad. “I'm sorry. We cannot do that.” His face brightened. “But would you like a cold drink?"

  A cold drink? She wanted to get out of here. She needed to call Morgan—Morgan!

  The thought of him made her heart pinch. Now she remembered. She'd been on her way to see him, to make him listen to her. To tell him she trusted him and he should do whatever he had to and she'd be waiting for him.

  The scene down the street from the D&D flashed into her brain.

  "You kidnapped me!” Dear God. “You stuck a gun in my ribs and a cloth over my face.” She frowned. “Only—only it wasn't you."

  "No, senorita,” they chorused, shaking their heads in unison.

  "We are very sorry for this,” Alex said. “But we are in big trouble and you are going to help us out."

  "Yes, help us,” Jorge echoed.

  "Help you.” She wet her lips. “Help you with what?"

  "With the exchange...” Jorge started to say, when Alex jabbed him in the ribs.

  "No questions.” Alex stood up from his chair and opened a sack on the table, taking out a six-pack of cola. “You should drink some of this, senorita. He said the stuff would make you sick to your stomach a little bit, and this would help."

  "He? He who?” When she moved slightly, the nausea rose again and she fought it back with determination. “Maybe I will have a one of those soft drinks. Just a little bit, though."

  "Oh, si! Good, good."

  Alex reached to separate one can from the others just as Jorge did the same thing, and the cans of Coke fell to the floor. Cursing, they both bent down to pick it up and knocked their heads together.

  Allison suppressed a hysterical laugh. She had to be a victim of the most inept kidnappers in the world.

  Finally they managed to get the six-pack back on the table and Jorge yanked one free.

  "Don't open it yet,” Alex yelled, just as Jorge pulled the tab and the shaken soda exploded through the opening, drenching his hand and arm.

  "Ay! Ay! Ay!" he hollered, wiping his hand on his pant legs.

  "Here. Give it to me.” Alex yanked the sticky can from his brother and offered it to Allison.

  She held up her bound hands. “How am I supposed to drink? And do you think you could find a glass?” She was trying to make her drugged mind work. There had to be a way out of here, especially with morons like this. If she could only get hold of Morgan.

  "Oh, sorry, senorita.” Jorge bowed. “I'll get you a glass."

  He poured some of the Coke into the plastic glass he retrieved from the bathroom and held it to her lips.

  Allison drank two or three swallows, steadying the glass with her bound hands. Then, moving slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I have to—um—use the facilities."

  The brothers looked at each other, frowning.

  "The facilities?” she repeated. “You know, the bathroom?"

  They looked at each other again, still frowning.

  "But senorita, it's right over there.” Alex pointed.

  "And how am I supposed to manage with my hands tied like this?"

  They turned away, whispering. When they looked at her, they both had stern looks on their faces.

  "We will untie you to use the facilities,” Jorge told her. “But then we will have to tie your hands again. And no—um—how you say—no funny stuff."

  "Of course not.” She tried to slow her accelerated heartbeat. Somehow she'd have to find a way to make a break for it.

  With her hands free, she made her way on unsteady legs to the bathroom, and closed and locked the door. She took care of business, then ran the water while she tried to think. Once she left the bathroom and was back in the motel room, her hands would be tied up again. They still tingled from being restricted and she rubbed them hard to stimulate circulation.

  The door to the room was in a direct line with the bathroom. If she could just distract them, maybe she could make it outside and run like hell. She reached to pull a towel from the chrome rack, and the bar came loose in her hands. She stared at it. Okay. She could come out swinging. Maybe that would work.

  Grasping the bar in one hand and the door knob in the other, bracing herself for what she had to do, she yanked the door open.

  And stopped, facing a broad, muscular male chest.

  She raised her eyes to a face with the darkest eyes she'd ever seen, and a mouth both sensuous and cruel. Her heart nearly stopped beating.

  "So, Senorita Moore.” The voice was harsh. “You are awake. Good, good. I have plans for you."

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

  Morgan and Jace had just arrived back at the station, and Morgan had been cursing steadily since the call from Luis Obradors. What an absolute nightmare this had turned into.

  "Decided how you want to handle this, Chief?” Jace was sitting in the chair in front of the desk. He'd tried to be as unobtrusive as possible since learning Escalante's men had Allison and wanted to trade her for Amber.

  "Yes. No. I have to think a minute.” He banged his fist on the desk. “If those bastards hurt her..."

  "She'll be fine. Miss Moore's a gutsy lady. And they need her in good shape for the exchange."

  "That's the only thing that keeps me from losing it.” He rose from behind the desk. “I need to talk to Amber."

  "Everyone will be glad of that. She's been raising holy hell since you brought her in here."

  "Well, that's just too bad."

  Amber was indeed making a fuss, hollering at the top of her voice for Morgan and for someone to come let her out.

  "It's about time,” she spat when she spotted Morgan striding toward the cell.

  "Unlock this stupid door and get me out of here. Right now."

  Morgan gripped the bars until his knuckles turned white. “If I had a damn bit of sense, that's exactly what I'd do. Escalante's men are waiting for you and I'd be happy to give them directions."

  Her face paled. “W-What do you mean?"

  "I mean they've got Allison and they want to trade her for you."

  Amber dropped onto the cell bunk and stared at Morgan, real fear on her face. “You can't do it. Morgan, they'll kill me for sure."

  His eyes glittered. “Do you think I'd rather let them kill Allison? I must have lost my mind the day I married you, and God's punishing me for my stupidity."

  "Please.” Her voice was unsteady. “I'm begging you. Don't do this. You have to find another way."

  "And then what? I just let you wander off into the sunset? I don't think so."

  "So what are you going to do?"

  Not even her palpable fear could dilute his anger, but he also knew he couldn't just carelessly toss her out there to a pack of killers.

  "I have an idea that might work. When Marcy comes back here she'll give you jail coveralls to put on. You give her your clothes."

  "Why? What for?"

  "Damn you,” he exploded. “Just shut up
and do what you're told. Okay? And when this is over, the white collar crime unit of the district attorney's office will be happy to have you as their guest."

  "Morgan..."

  But he was already heading back to his office.

  "Marcy?” He shouted to her from the doorway. “Have you got that call through yet?"

  "Yes, chief. He's waiting on line two."

  "Thanks. Take Amber a set of coveralls and bring me her clothes."

  "W-What..."

  "Just do it.” He dropped into his desk chair and picked up his phone. “Steve?"

  Steve Michaels was with the San Antonio office of the FBI. When Morgan was a deputy sheriff they'd connected on a few cases and become, if not friends, at least good acquaintances. He was sure Steve would do him a favor, especially if it meant a noteworthy arrest.

  "Hey, Morgan. How's life back on the ranch? Lose any cows you need us to find?” Steve chuckled.

  "Not quite. But I do need a big favor from you."

  In short, tight sentences, Morgan told the man Amber's story, including the dumping of Jared's body, and ending with Allison's kidnapping.

  Steve whistled. “You don't mean to tell me she was dumb enough to con Emilio Escalante? He'll make chopped liver out of her."

  "Yeah, well, he's planning to make chopped liver out of the woman I love if I can't get her out of this."

  "Sounds like you wouldn't mind handing Amber over to them."

  "Not a bit, but you know that's not my style."

  "Yeah, yeah.” Steve sighed. “Cutter's Law, right? Okay, what do you need from me?"

  "I don't know how much time I've got. He said he'd call back, but the bastard didn't say when. Also, I need your promise that you won't take over jurisdiction in this case until I have Allison back safe and sound."

  "Listen, Morgan..."

  Morgan cut him off. “I don't want to get into a turf war here, but you know I did you a big favor when you needed one. Now I'm calling it in."

  Steve cleared his throat. “Okay. I'll square it with my boss. What do you really need?"

  "A look alike, some backup, and in return the chance to nab Escalante's men and maybe el jefe himself on kidnap charges."

  "Well, we haven't been able to pin the drug dealing on him, so we'll take what we can get. Okay, how do you want to do this?"

  By the time Morgan hung up, he was assured a stand-in would arrive shortly for Amber. Steve just happened to be in Austin with another agent who had the right physical appearance. They would leave at once, with some additional manpower, if Morgan could stall until they got there.

  "Jace,” Morgan hollered, and young Murdock appeared at once, just as Marcy brought in Amber's clothes.

  "Right here."

  "Obradors is supposed to call back, only he didn't say when. The asshole's trying to play on my nerves to make me do what he wants. I'm going to try setting up the exchange on Anderson Road, the one that runs along side The Yellow Rose. It's secluded out there, we've got plenty of trees for Steve Michaels to hide his men, and if we park facing the highway they'll have the sun in their eyes."

  "You think this will work?” Jace looked worried.

  Morgan deliberately pushed away his rising fear.. “It has to."

  * * * *

  "So, senorita.” Luis lit one of his cigarillos. “I hope my men have made you comfortable."

  "I'll be comfortable when I can get out of here.” Allison was sitting on the bed again, her hands bound once more. She lifted her jaw in a gesture of defiance. This man scared the hell out of her but she knew it would be unwise to let him know that. “When Morgan Cutter finds out about this he'll eat you for lunch."

  Luis smiled, but it was not an expression of warmth. “I think you will be seeing your precious Chief Cutter before too long. He seems to be a man of great reasonableness."

  "What do you mean?"

  He blew out a thin stream of smoke. “I mean, he has something we want and he is willing to exchange it for your safety."

  "Senor Luis?” Alex's voice was tentative. “There is a sign in the room that says No Smoking. I meant to tell you yesterday."

  "Shut up, idiot.” Luis twisted his lips in disgust. “Do you think I care about something so insignificant when we have far more important things to worry about?"

  "What could he possibly have that you want?” Allison asked.

  Luis smiled again. “His ex-wife, of course."

  "Amber?” Her eyes widened. “What could you possibly want with that bimbo?"

  The man gave her that insidious smile again. “Aha. So you share our opinion. Only a bimbo would be foolish enough to steal money from Emilio Escalante."

  Allison felt the blood drain from her face. Escalante was a man of immense wealth with reputed influence in the drug trade. Two years ago a reporter had written an article about him for the San Antonio Express-News. A week after the story ran, the reporter was found dead in an alley in South Tampa. No one was ever caught but the rumors flew fast and thick. If Amber was foolish enough to tick this man off, she was even stupider than Allison thought.

  Allison thought her capacity to hate had reached its limit, but at that moment she felt more venom for Amber than she'd ever felt for anyone in her life. The woman had not only screwed up Morgan's life, but now she'd brought life-threatening danger into it. If Escalante didn't kill her, Allison was ready to.

  "But what does that have to do with me?"

  "Senor Escalante would like the pleasure of her company, and Chief Cutter is anxious to have you returned to him. So we are going to arrange an exchange."

  "An exchange."

  "Si. Simple like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  But not so simple, Allison realized. Morgan, with his code of ethics, would be reluctant to turn even Amber over to what was certain death. She shivered at the thought of what would happen to her if that didn't happen. She would have to trust Morgan to find a way to do this.

  Trust. There was that word again. If ever there was a time to trust him, this was it.

  "You don't look so confident, senorita.” Luis opened one of the Coke cans and poured some into the glass of ice on the table. “Do you not think this man would do anything to have his heart of hearts back?"

  Heart of hearts? Allison hoped that was what she was to Morgan. She guessed she was about to find out.

  "I will be calling him,” Luis continued. “He sounded anxious, your police chief, but I'm going to make him wait. A little anxiety will help him do the right thing, don't you think? Give him time to think about what he would be losing if he does not agree to my terms."

  Allison's stomach clenched. The Two Stooges were one thing, but this man would eliminate her without blinking if things went wrong.

  Morgan. Please help me. I want the chance to tell you I love you.

  "He's not going to hand her over to you.” Allison felt sick saying it, but she knew it was true.

  "Then, senorita, you will not be seeing the sun come up again. But first...” He leaned forward and reached his hand out to caress her face. “...we will have ourselves a little amusement, you and I. A little something for my troubles, no?"

  Allison shuddered and drew back.

  Luis Obradors’ laugh was a chilling sound.

  * * * *

  They were all in the room at the station where Morgan held his briefing—he, Jace, Steve Michaels, Denise Starrett and four other FBI agents. They had arrived in record time in a helicopter from Austin, landing at the Circle C, and Morgan had fetched them all to his office. Marcy had produced coffee for everyone, and they were seated around the large table. All except Morgan, who paced a narrow path from one end of the room to the other and back again. Every minute he checked his watch.

  "I know this is hard to do,” Steve told him. “But you have to keep your cool here. It won't do Allison any good if you lose it."

  "I know, I know.” He ground his teeth. Call, call, call.

  "He's doing it just to rile you,” one of th
e other agents pointed out. “I know it's easy to give advice when I'm not in your shoes, but Steve's right. Obradors is doing what he thinks will give him the upper hand. Put you off balance."

  Morgan turned to the woman. “Denise, are you all set?"

  She nodded. “Yes, Chief.” She lifted her denim shirt and smiled. “I even have my Kevlar on."

  "Good.” He nodded. “I'm not taking chances with someone's life."

  "Morgan.” Steve's voice was low and calm. “We put our lives out there every day. We hope we come home in one piece at night, but it's all part of the job."

  "All right. We're still agreed this is my ball game until I have Allison back safely?"

  Everyone nodded.

  Morgan picked up a paper cup and drained the last of the coffee. “Let's go over this one more time, then you all should get going. You need to be in place before I even talk to him."

  "What if he doesn't like the meeting place?” one of the other agents asked.

  "I'll call Steve's cell phone. We should still have time to get all of you in place if we have to move."

  They reviewed their plan once more, then the men all rose from the table.

  "One more thing."

  They turned.

  Morgan cleared his throat. “Thank you."

  Each of the men nodded and shook his hand as they filed out of the room, and Morgan found himself alone with Denise Starrett.

  She gave him an encouraging smile. “Well, Chief, it's just you and me. Why don't you sit down and tell me about this woman we're going to bring home safe to you."

  He was halfway through his story about Allison when his cell phone rang.

  * * * *

  "Ah, senor, but how do I know this is not a trap for me?” Luis pressed the cell phone to his ear.

  Morgan's voice was low and harsh. “Because I'm telling you it isn't. If you want Amber, I guess you'll have to trust me on that."

  Luis nodded. “You should be aware I will have other men with me. We don't want what you call in Texas a shootout, right?"

  "I want to speak to her. Now. Or there's no deal."

  "Yes, yes. Of course. She is right here."