by Irene Brand
He stepped behind her and cut the cords that bound her hands, and she groaned when the blood started circulating through her arms. He continued walking, and when they started downhill, Kennedy realized why he had freed her hands. The ground was damp and slippery, and she could hear running water. They were crossing a stream—probably the Niobrara, but she was completely disoriented. When they reached the river, her feet flew out from under her, and she sat down in water that reached to her waist.
Her abductor snarled a curse and jerked Kennedy to her feet. She decided that there was a gravel bar at this point, for the water wasn’t more than ankle deep as they crossed the river and climbed the opposite bank. Kennedy had lost her scuffs when she fell into the river, and walking across the rough terrain was torturous.
She stifled a scream every time she stepped on a rock or a brier.
It seemed like hours had passed before a tall structure loomed before them. A door squeaked, and Kennedy was shoved into a building of some kind. It was dark inside, and she couldn’t tell where they were. Without speaking, the man again tied her hands behind her back, took the rope from around her waist, and tied it to one of her legs. The interior of the building was pitch-black and she couldn’t see anything, but she had a feeling that he was securing the other end of the rope to a large object. A door slammed. Kennedy listened intently. The only sound she heard was the whir of a windmill, and she knew instinctively that she was alone.
Unable to stand any longer, she supported her back against a wall and slid to the floor.
Was this the kind of trouble Derek had feared for her? Was there any connection between her kidnapping and the man who’d come to the Circle Cross in a taxi a few weeks ago? Her kidnapper could easily have been that man. Since his arrival, Derek had been tense, morose, and burdened. Was he someone from Derek’s past who was trying to get to Derek through her? Could that be the main reason he had insisted on her leaving Valentine?
Kennedy was still gagged, and she couldn’t call for help. She had no idea what time it was or how long she’d been a captive. She was hungry and thirsty, and she wanted Derek. All during the long ordeal of plodding along, shackled to her captor, Kennedy had tried to keep from crying. But now she felt helpless; tears seeped from her eyes, and her nose started running. Without a tissue or handkerchief, all she could do was sniff.
Chapter Sixteen
Derek and Sam were saddling their horses near the stable when Wilson ran wildly through the pasture, scaling fences in giant leaps. The dog was dragging his leash, and when he jumped up on Derek, panting and drooling, Derek noticed at once that the rope had been chewed in two. Wilson looked into his face and barked loudly then turned and raced toward Riverside, pausing once to see if Derek was following him.
“Something has happened to Kennedy!” Derek shouted. He tossed his horse’s bridle toward Sam and ran toward his truck.
“What’s up?” Sam yelled back.
“I don’t know.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“No. Stay here until I find out what has happened.”
He had expected to find Wilson at Riverside, but there was no sign of the dog. He rushed through the front door, which was hanging open, and called for Kennedy. Her bed hadn’t been made, and the coffeepot was still warm. He shouted her name over and over, but there wasn’t any answer.
He went outside and noticed the broom lying on the gazebo floor where Kennedy had probably left it. That’s when he saw a note pasted to a porch column.
I’VE GOT HER, STERLING. DON’T CALL THE COPS!
“Oh, yeah, right,” he muttered.
Lazaro! He should have alerted Sheriff Morgan days ago instead of trying to fight his enemy alone. Feeling as if he’d been sucker-punched, Derek dropped into a chair and reached for his phone.
Fortunately, she answered on the first ring. “Sheriff, this is Derek. Kennedy Blaine has been kidnapped. I’m at Riverside, and I’ll stay until you get here.” Derek felt as if he’d aged fifty years in the past fifteen minutes, and he slouched in the chair. Through the years he’d often mourned his youthful indiscretion—
but never more than he did at this point. If the six months he’d strayed from the straight and narrow had brought disaster on Kennedy, he would never forgive himself.
God, don’t make her pay for my sins. I love her more than my own life. I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins if You will keep her safe.
But even as he prayed, Derek remembered that Jesus had atoned for the sins of all mankind. The supreme sacrifice had already been paid on Calvary more than two centuries ago. What God wanted from Derek Sterling was love, worship, and a committed life.
“You have it, God,” Derek said. “I’m not bargaining anymore. No matter how this turns out, I’m going to serve You with my whole heart and life.” Now that his relationship with God had taken on new meaning, Derek found the strength to go out and meet the sheriff when he heard her cruiser approaching.
He explained quickly what he knew about Kennedy’s abduction.
Fastening her direct, brown-eyed gaze on him, the sheriff said tersely, “Anything else I should know?”
“Yes. Something I should have told you weeks ago.”
He directed her to the gazebo where the sign was still in place.
“I grew up in Chicago and got mixed up with the wrong crowd. When I was a boy, I ran with a street gang for six months. I never got into drugs, but I was involved in several cases of petty theft. Lazaro, the leader of the gang, killed two cops. He tried to implicate me and some of the other boys in the crime, but there was no evidence against us. He was sentenced to prison for life with no chance of parole. Mom and Dad brought me to Nebraska, and you know I’ve lived straight since then.”
The sheriff nodded.
“A few weeks ago, Lazaro showed up in Valentine. He came to the ranch pretending to be looking for work. I knew that was a sham—he wanted me to know he’d located me. I looked every place I could think of to find him, but Lazaro was always good at keeping himself hidden.”
“Would this guy have mob connections?” Sheriff Morgan questioned.
“I’m sure of it, but I can’t imagine how he got out of prison. He was sent up for life.”
“Give me the facts, and I’ll check him out,” the sheriff said. She took notes as Derek told her all he knew about Lazaro. “I can soon find out if he’s escaped from prison.”
“I’ve been miserable, not knowing what to do and trying to protect Kennedy if he was responsible for her harassment. A week ago, I met him behind George’s bar in Valentine. He told me that he’d been released from prison after he squealed on the rest of us who were involved in the murder. That’s a lie; he did the job himself. The police records show that I wasn’t involved, but if he’s still trying to implicate me, I may be wanted for questioning in Chicago, even if it has been a long time since I was with the street gang.”
Sheriff Morgan fixed him with her compelling eyes. “Better tell me all of it, and the sooner the better, for Kennedy’s sake.” Derek took a deep breath and told her that Lazaro had somehow learned about Kennedy and that he had demanded that Derek get fifty thousand dollars from her so Lazaro could leave the country. “I refused, of course, but I’ve been worried about her ever since. She intended to go back to California in a few days. But she waited too long.”
“Check to see if her car is here. Also, look around for any clues. I’m going to call the state troopers to get help in combing this county. I won’t let some cheap crook cut up the peace of Cherry County.”
The sheriff had opened the door of the cruiser when Derek noticed that Wilson was running across the field from the river. He was barking loudly, and when Derek started toward the dog, Wilson halted, barked again, turned, and ran the direction he’d come.
“Wait a minute,” Derek said to the sheriff. “Kennedy is a favorite of Wilson’s—he may have located her. I’ll follow him.” The sheriff got out of the car and kept pace
with Derek as they ran after Wilson. The dog stopped after a few yards to be sure they were following before he started running again. When he came to a ford in the Niobrara, Wilson jumped into the water. “Looks like he’s heading toward Valentine,” Derek said.
“I’ll go back to the cruiser, cross the river, and keep in touch with you by phone.” Turning, the sheriff said, “Be careful. If the convict did take her, he doesn’t have anything to lose by killing someone who can identify him.”
Derek nodded his understanding and plunged into the river, which brought him to the West Eighty. He thought Kennedy might be hidden in the unfinished conference center, but Wilson raced by the building without stopping. Derek panted for breath, wondering how much longer he could keep up this pace in his boots. When he reached the road, he vaulted over the gate and saw the sheriff’s cruiser approaching.
When she stopped, Derek opened the door and nodded his thanks. Wilson stood waiting for them, but when the car eased close to him, he took off at a run. A When she stopped, Derek opened the door and nodded his thanks. Wilson stood waiting for them, but when the car eased close to him, he took off at a run. A mile down the road, he ducked under a fence and cut off across a Circle Cross pasture.
Derek groaned, but he got out of the squad car.
“I’m coming with you, Derek,” the sheriff said, and she parked beside the road.
“There’s a barn in this field where we store hay for emergencies when a blizzard hits the ranch,” Derek said. “It’s in a grove of trees, and the Circle Cross headquarters can be seen from that point. It would have been easy for Lazaro to hide there. We haven’t been in this field for a month or so.” When they were within a few yards of the building, the sheriff laid her hand on Derek’s arm and pulled him behind a large bale of hay.
“From now on, I’m in charge,” she said. “You stay behind me and do what I tell you to do.”
“No way! I’m responsible for this. I told Kennedy I’d look after her if she stayed here.”
“Listen to me! Lazaro may be in the building with Kennedy. He’s dangerous.”
“But…” Derek began. The sheriff held up her hand.
“I can see your point, but Lazaro will be less apt to shoot me.”
“He was sent to prison for killing two cops. One more won’t matter to him.”
The sheriff continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I have on a bullet-proof vest. I’m armed. You aren’t. And even if you were, if you don’t have a permit to carry a gun, you’d be in trouble if you shoot him. Stay behind me!”
Derek shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He knew the sheriff was right, but how could he stand by idly and allow Sheriff Morgan to risk her life for Kennedy?
She was his responsibility.
Wilson was sniffing around the building, and the sheriff said, “Tie him up if you can’t hold him any other way.” Derek whistled softly, and Wilson ran toward him. Derek cut a piece of twine from the bale of hay, connected it to the dog’s collar, and tied him to a tree. When Wilson growled, Derek said, “Stop!” Wilson stared up at Derek with eager black eyes and whined piteously, but when Derek put a restraining hand on his head, the dog collapsed, panting, on the ground.
Unwillingly, Derek yielded to the sheriff’s demands. He knew she was right, but he watched anxiously as she ran to one corner of the building and moved slowly toward the door. Staying undercover, she pushed the door inward. Derek held his breath, expecting a gunshot, but he didn’t hear one. Moving quickly, the sheriff entered the building in one giant leap.
Derek crouched beside Wilson, agonizing over what was happening inside the barn. Although it seemed like a lifetime, it was probably less than five minutes before the sheriff stepped to the door and motioned for Derek to come.
“She’s here alone and apparently all right. You take care of her, and I’ll look around.” Derek thanked God that they had found her. Kennedy was tied to a wagon wheel. Derek rushed to her, dropped to his knees, and fumbled at the dirty tape on her mouth. His anger increased when he saw how the tape had bruised her lips. The joy in her eyes when he knelt beside her pierced his conscience. It was a miracle from God that she wasn’t dead; he would have been responsible for it, yet she was glad to see him. Bitter tears blinded him as he worked to free her.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he removed the rope from her arms and wrists. She moved her lips, but she couldn’t talk. By the time he freed her feet, she croaked, “Water.”
“Just a minute. There’s a windmill here. I’ll bring some.”
Sheriff Morgan entered the barn. “I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find anyone else. Can she answer some questions?”
“She wants water. I’ll get it.”
A tin can filled with nails stood on a shelf. Derek emptied the nails and ran out of the building. He rinsed the can and filled it with water. He knew it wasn’t sanitary, but there wasn’t any other way to get water to her immediately. As he ran back to the barn with the water, Derek whispered, Thank You, God, that she’s still alive.
When he returned to the building, Sheriff Morgan had helped Kennedy to stand, and she was hobbling a few steps. “Look how her feet are bruised!” the sheriff exclaimed. “Apparently she walked all the way from Riverside.”
While Sheriff Morgan supported her, Derek lifted the can to Kennedy’s mouth, and she gulped a few swallows. He wet his handkerchief and wiped her swollen lips and tear-streaked face. Giving him a tremulous smile, Kennedy lifted her hand and wiped the tears from his cheeks.
“I’ve called for backup,” the sheriff reported. “I told my deputies to come through the field. As soon as they get here, you can take her back to the Circle Cross, but I want to find out what happened first.”
After she swallowed some more water, Kennedy licked her lips. “I can talk now,” she said hoarsely.
The sheriff nodded. “Let’s take her outside, Derek. There’s a bench she can sit on.” He lifted Kennedy in his arms, and she put her arm around his neck. Moving slowly, he lowered her to the bench.
“Just tell us what happened.” Sheriff Morgan said. “Take your time.”
Derek went to the water trough for another can of water, and Kennedy took a few swallows when he came back. While she talked, he knelt beside her and sponged her bare feet, gritting his teeth in anger when he saw the lacerations caused by the rough terrain she’d been forced to walk over.
Kennedy gripped her hands in her lap. “I got up soon after Miranda left, and then I went outside to sweep the porch. Somebody slipped up behind me and jerked my hands behind my back. I was surprised into silence at first, and before I could call out, he’d gagged and blindfolded me. I don’t know who it was.” The time for complete honesty had come. “It was Lazaro, the man who came to the ranch a few weeks ago asking for work,” Derek admitted—but he couldn’t meet her eyes. “He left a note for me.”
The sheriff’s phone rang. While they waited for her, Derek untied Wilson and the dog rushed to Kennedy, jumping up on her and licking her face. Derek pulled him away, and the dog settled beside her, his head on his front two paws, soulfully gazing up into Kennedy’s eyes. Derek sat down again and rested Kennedy’s feet on his legs.
Lifting her hand to his lips, he said, “Did he molest you? I want the truth.”
“Oh, no,” she assured him at once, “nothing like that.”
“What time was it when the guy showed up?” the sheriff asked when she finished her phone conversation.
“Miranda leaves between seven and eight. It was probably around half-past seven. What time is it now?” Derek glanced at his watch. “One o’clock.”
“I didn’t think you’d find me that fast. Or if you’d ever find me.”
“Wilson broke loose and ran to the ranch, and I knew something was wrong,” Derek explained. “It’s a good thing the front door was still open so he could leave the house, or we wouldn’t have known yet.”
A vehicle approached, and the sheriff went to meet her deputies.
Derek drew a deep breath. “I should have told you this before, but I hoped you would never have to know. Lazaro is a convict and was also the gang leader I ran with for six months when I lived in Chicago. When he was arrested for a double murder, he tried to prove that I was involved.” He explained about the alibi that
with for six months when I lived in Chicago. When he was arrested for a double murder, he tried to prove that I was involved.” He explained about the alibi that had exonerated him, his parents’ move to Valentine to remove him from further danger, and Lazaro’s recent demands for money from him. “I told him I didn’t have that kind of money, but obviously he had found out that you’re rich. I’m guessing that he intended to hold you for ransom.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kennedy said quickly. “I’d have given you the money in a heartbeat.” Derek, still holding Kennedy’s hand, squeezed it as he said, “I know you would have, but I’m not that low-down. Don’t you realize now that you must leave Nebraska and go back to California? He’s a hardened criminal. You’re not safe as long as he’s running loose.” Sheriff Morgan joined them, and she had apparently heard what Derek said, for she nodded. “I agree with him, Kennedy. Until we capture Lazaro, you’re in danger.”
Noting Derek’s haggard face and the pain in his eyes, Kennedy decided she wouldn’t cause him further worry. But how could she bear to be in California not knowing what was happening to Derek? He wasn’t safe in Nebraska either as long as Lazaro was out of jail.
“I’ll go,” she said.
“Good,” the sheriff said. “My deputy will take you and Derek to Riverside, and the detective and I will check this building for fingerprints and any DNA possibilities. We need something to tie this crime to Lazaro.”
Derek picked up Kennedy and deposited her gently in the police cruiser. “I’ll start to the Omaha airport with her as soon as we can get ready.” Derek called June when the squad car left the barn. “Kennedy is all right, Mom, except for some bruised feet. Will you meet us at Riverside with some ointment for those injuries? I’m taking her to the airport today so she can leave for California.” He briefly explained about Lazaro’s appearance at the Circle Cross and his actions since then. His face was grim when he hung up.
