by Cassie Miles
Mace continued his account with his pursuit of the kidnappers. “I got the license plate. It was registered to a car that had been totalled.”
“What about the driver? He might be a lead.”
“He died in the car wreck.”
“And his plates went up for sale on the black market,” Heflin said. “These guys are pros. Now tell me more about this Nicole Ferris. Did you know she has a criminal record?”
“As a juvenile,” Mace said. Though he was sure that Nicole was still withholding information from him, he wasn’t about to give her up to this jerk. “She’s a waitress at the Elkhorn Café and a law-abiding citizen.”
“I want to question her,” Heflin said. “Right after we complete our forensics on the cabin.”
Libby Tynsdale’s ancient Volkswagen van rattled onto the tarmac and parked nose to nose with the jet. When Special Agent Luke Heflin read the Elkhorn Lodge logo printed on the side of the van, his eyes glazed. “Oh, no.”
“Looks like your ride is here,” Mace said cheerfully.
Gray-haired Libby hopped out of the van, planted her fists on her ample hips and bellowed, “If you guys are the FBI, get your buns in the van. I got another stop to make.”
“Oh, no,” Heflin repeated.
“Welcome to Elkhorn.”
TAKING THE MOBILE PHONE with her, Nicole followed Jewel out to the stables to care for the horses. The long, whitewashed building with six stalls on each side was incredibly clean. The mingled scent of hay, leather and horse didn’t seem at all unpleasant.
All the doors to the stalls were open, and Nicole peeked inside one of them. “Where are the horses?”
“In the pasture. It’s a nice day for them to be outside.”
When Jewel slid open the opposite door leading to corrals and pastures, a fat little burro trotted up to her and brayed, demanding attention.
Nicole laughed. “He’s adorable.”
“The silly donkey thinks he’s a dog. If I let him, he’d sit on my lap. He follows me everywhere.” She gestured toward a fenced-in corral between the stables and the barn. “These are my beauties.”
Though Nicole knew very little about horses, she could appreciate the magnificence of these five Arabians. Their chestnut coats gleamed over muscled flanks. They looked strong, healthy and proud. “Beauties, indeed.”
“And a lot of work,” Jewel said.
“I can help. Tell me what to do.”
Jewel pointed her toward high rubber work boots and a heavy-duty jacket. The chores involved a lot of lifting, shoveling and swabbing, which Nicole undertook with enthusiasm. She’d always been strong; waitress work can be physically demanding. And she enjoyed tromping through mud in her work boots and feeling the fresh October sunlight on her face. Activity was preferable to sitting around and waiting for the next dreaded phone call from the kidnappers.
When she sat for a moment’s rest on a hay bale inside the stable, the burro came close and stared at her. His long ears twitched curiously. When she reached toward him, he stepped backward.
“Don’t be scared,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.”
But the burro flounced away. Not yet ready to be her friend. That seemed to be the story of her life. She was always the outsider, always on the move. It might have been nice to settle down here in Elkhorn, working in the healthy atmosphere of a ranch instead of in a greasy café.
Mace slammed through the door to the stable like a volcanic explosion. He wasn’t wearing his Stetson or his shearling coat. In his tan sheriff’s uniform with his gun and cuffs on his utility belt, his appearance was official and intimidating. His brow furrowed. His mouth was set in a snarl.
Without saying hello or acknowledging her presence, he picked up the mobile phone and flung it against the concrete stable floor with such force that the instrument shattered. “We won’t need this anymore. The Feds are taking all phone calls.”
“They can’t.” Nicole stood. A tremble went through her. “Joey wants to talk to me.”
“He’s got no choice. Agent Heflin is in charge.”
Pacing the length of the barn and back again, Mace seemed to be trapped in a cage that was barely strong enough to contain his anger. His body tensed. He growled under his breath, “There’s too damned much ego involved in this investigation. Heflin’s got something to prove. He’s treating me like his errand boy.”
Nicole didn’t want to see him like this. Nothing good ever came from rage. Too often the heat of anger had turned toward her. Her body ached from remembered blows, kindled by unchecked fury. Involuntary terror rose within her. “Stop it!”
He halted midstride and stared at her. The fire in his dark eyes burned through to her soul. She cringed away from him, fearful that he’d strike out at her. Her eyelids squeezed shut. Her hands rose to cover her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Nicole, I won’t hurt you.”
She wanted to believe him, but she’d heard those words too many times before and knew better than to trust him. Though she lowered her hands, her heart jumped hysterically inside her rib cage. She was scared. Instinctively she knew she should run away from him.
Jewel raced back into the stables. “What’s going on here? Mace, what have you done?”
“I was mad,” he said.
She glared at the broken cell phone on the floor. “So you threw a temper tantrum. How mature!”
His gaze focused steadily on Nicole. Though he had calmed by several degrees, she still saw the anger that might erupt at any second. “Trust me,” he said. “Please.”
“I’ll try.” She concentrated on controlling her breathing.
He glanced toward his sister. “Jewel, would you excuse us for a minute.”
“Okay.” With slow, dubious steps, she went back out the stable door. “If I hear any yelling in here, you’re in deep trouble, Mace.”
Alone with him in the stables, Nicole shivered. A little while ago she’d been so happy, playing with a burro and reveling in the good weather. Now she felt like sobbing. When would it end? When would her life be about something more than terror?
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mace said. His voice was gentle, and she tried to believe him. “I forgot about your past. I was treating you like Jewel or one of the guys.”
Ironically, that was exactly the kind of relationship she craved. True friends had the freedom to say anything to each other. With trust, there was no need to maintain tight control. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Mace sat on the hay bale. His shoulders slumped. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past few days, but this one is the worst. I can’t pretend to know everything you’ve gone through, Nicole. But I’m guessing there’s been some serious abuse.”
“Good guess,” she said quietly.
“And I come raging in here like a crazy man. You must have thought I was going to take my mad out on you.” He looked up at her with sad, exhausted eyes. “I wouldn’t hit you. Not ever.”
“Nobody plans for abuse to happen,” she said. “But it does.”
“Not from me. I know right from wrong.”
She swallowed hard. The grip of panic had begun to loosen. “I’m okay, Mace. No harm done. I accept your apology.”
“I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Mace wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, but he knew that behavior fit too well into the abusive pattern. First came the beating. Then the apologies. Then the making up.
If he’d rescued her from someone else, he might have been able to touch her. But in this case he was the unwitting perpetrator, and it didn’t matter that he never would have harmed her. She expected him to be violent, and her perception made him guilty.
He’d never forget how she’d flinched and covered her face. As if he would hit her? My God, he felt like a thug.
She tried a smile. “Now, what’s this about the FBI taking Joey’s phone calls?”
“They’ve set up a base of operations at the Elkhor
n Lodge where Libby Tynsdale is making their lives miserable. Bless her ornery soul. They’ve already reprogrammed the phones. Their procedure is to intercept all communication from the kidnappers.”
“Why?”
“So they can be the negotiators.”
“That’s a stupid idea,” she said. “There’s nothing to negotiate. Uncle Blake turns over the money, and Joey gets released.”
“That’s another problem.” Though Agent Heflin hadn’t been forthcoming with any of their privileged information, Mace had gleaned a few bits of intelligence. “Blake Wentworth ran into a snag getting the cash released from Joey’s trust fund. He won’t have the ransom until late today. It might take until tomorrow.”
“And what happens to Joey in the meantime?”
“He waits,” Mace said. “We all wait.”
She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. The color had returned to her face. “Isn’t there something we can do?”
He intended to pursue his own investigation, separate from the Feds. Though that kind of attitude had earned him reprimands for insubordination when he was a police detective in Denver, he had pretty much decided to go his own course. This was his county, damn it! He couldn’t just stand by and twiddle his thumbs.
The Feds were going down the wrong path, looking for professional criminals. Mace believed there was a connection closer to home. How else could he explain the screwball trail of clues at the cabin? And the theft of Nicole’s savings? And Joey’s demanding attitude?
“I’m going to follow up on some leads myself,” he said.
“Let me help.”
He shook his head. “I can’t take responsibility for putting you in the line of fire.”
“That’s my choice,” she said as she peeled off the muddy boots. “How do we get started?”
“The Feds want to talk to you,” he said. “I told them I’d bring you to them.”
Agent Heflin trusted him to transport a witness. It was a fetch-and-carry task, one step above filling their coffee mugs.
“I have an idea.” A devilish grin played at the corners of her mouth. “I could tell them something misleading to throw off their investigation.”
“No, no. This isn’t a competition. We’re all on the same side. We all want to bring Joey safely home.” But he was beginning to have an idea. “Here’s how you can help me. When I bring you to the cabin to be questioned, keep Heflin busy so I can take a look in Joey’s studio.”
“To see if you can find the sketchbook where he wrote down messages.”
He nodded. “Be sure to pick up some clothes while you’re at the cabin. You’re staying here with us.”
“I appreciate your hospitality.”
Her ladylike response amused him. Only a moment ago she’d been prepared to con the FBI. “If you’re ready, Nicole. We can go now.”
“Let me say goodbye to your sister.”
She ran toward the stable door, energetic as a colt. There were a lot of contrasts in Nicole. She had more moods than there were colors in a rainbow—all of them vivid. She was a trickster and a victim. Though she acted tough, she was also painfully vulnerable. Sometimes she talked like a prissy schoolmarm. Other times she sounded like a gun moll.
With all these different personas, which one was the truth? What would he find in her deepest heart? He knew one thing for sure. She needed to be handled with care. She wasn’t a package that could be wildly ripped open, throwing the ribbons and bits of wrapping paper. She was breakable, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be the man who caused her to break into a million pieces.
Coming back into the barn, she approached him gracefully. “Jewel says we should probably have some lunch before we go.”
Mace glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost noon. “Does my bossy sister have some idea about what we should eat?”
Jewel appeared in the stable doorway. “For you, dog meat. Nicole and I will be having soup and salad like civilized human beings.”
Mace nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to give Heflin and his men a little more time to finish up the forensics at the Wentworth cabin. They’d taken enough equipment over there to build a space shuttle.
He fell into step behind his sister and Nicole as they returned to the house. As soon as they stepped inside, Nicole said, “There’s one more thing, Mace. Can we put gas in my car and bring it back here? I don’t want to leave it on the side of the road.”
Her request seemed perfectly ingenuous, but he knew better. Nicole had the reputation of running. He didn’t want to provide her with means of escape. “Why would you need your car?”
“For one thing, all my savings were stolen. I need to go back to work.”
“Not until this is over,” he said firmly. The grapevine in Elkhorn was already pulsating with rumors. If Nicole showed up at the café, the tabloids wouldn’t be far behind. “We want to keep a low profile.”
“It seems like my car is a hazard at the side of the road,” she said. “All it needs is a gallon of gas.”
“Give me your car keys, and I’ll have one of the deputies pick it up.” He couldn’t very well deny her the use of her own vehicle. “But don’t even think about running away. Not for one second. Not for one nanosecond.”
She fluttered her eyelashes in a blatant display of fake innocence. “Trust me, Mace.”
Chapter Seven
I will not run away. Nicole repeated the sentence over and over in her mind, like a mantra. She owed it to Joey to stay in Elkhorn and fulfill the kidnapper’s demands.
I will not run away. On a practical level, she knew that if she tried to flee before the FBI gave their permission, she’d surely be apprehended, maybe even arrested.
I will not run away. She’d promised Mace that she wouldn’t run. That seemed like the most important reason of all. Even though her instincts warned her to escape, she didn’t want to disappoint him.
But her feet were itching as she rode to the cabin in the passenger seat of his Explorer. They were on their way to meet with Special Agent Heflin—not a fun date. Nicole would need every ounce of her poise and self-control to get through this FBI interrogation in one piece. She had to convince Heflin that she wasn’t a suspect. At the same time, she couldn’t be completely truthful and reveal her marriage to Derek. Was this the most complicated encounter she’d ever faced? Probably not.
Casting around in her mind, she recalled another situation requiring steely control. Oddly enough it was a formal dinner event she’d attended with Derek. Those fancy occasions were always uncomfortable for her. The other women regarded her as a brainless trophy wife, and their husbands leered like starving men eyeballing a choice cut of prime rib. She hadn’t wanted to go, but Derek insisted. He’d said that this was her job; the reason he married her was so she could be an appealing blond accessory on his arm.
Before they’d left the house, Derek had fastened a dazzling diamond necklace around her throat. He stood behind her as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, amazed at how glamorous she was in her designer gown with her hair upswept and her makeup professionally applied. She looked like a princess.
Then Derek’s caress tightened around her neck. He pressed just hard enough to close her windpipe, and he whispered into her ear. “You’re mine, Nicole. Never forget that you belong to me.”
Struggling to inhale, she managed to nod.
“I’m receiving an award tonight,” he said. “If you embarrass me in any way, I will punish you.”
He released his choke hold, and she gasped. Tears welled in her eyes, and she carefully dabbed the corners so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup. “I’ll make you proud, Derek.”
Her behavior had been impeccable. For four long hours she’d endured catty comments and held her head high. She’d smiled at the dumb jokes from Derek’s associates. When she danced with her supposedly loving husband, she’d gracefully followed his lead. For that one night she truly was as poised as a princess on the brink of execution.
M
entally she recaptured that imperious strength. In her dealings with the Feds at the Wentworth cabin, she would be regal, unshakeable and firm.
When Mace parked at some distance from the cabin, she saw two vans, a lot of yellow crime-scene tape and a couple of guys in black windbreakers with “FBI” written across their backs in big white letters. “What are they doing?”
“Making casts of the tire tracks,” Mace said. “It’s a waste of time since I already told them that the kidnappers were driving a black or dark-blue Jeep Wagoneer.”
“I don’t like them being here,” she said. “Do I have any right to tell them to leave?”
“Afraid not. If they cause any damage, you can sue them after the fact.”
“Oh, sure. As if anybody wins a suit against the FBI.”
She hated that they could come here uninvited and paw through her life. Last night her cabin was ransacked. Now it felt like she was being violated all over again. The quiet refuge she’d shared with Joey didn’t look anything like home.
“Let’s go,” Mace said. “Tell the truth, and you’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.”
He reached over, clasped her hand and affectionately gave a light squeeze. His skin felt warm, and his touch reassured her. “You’re not alone, Nicole. I won’t let them bully you.”
She believed him. For the first time in her life, she had somebody in her corner, somebody to protect her. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, too.”
“Just buy me enough time to take a look around in Joey’s studio for that blue sketchbook with the phone numbers.”
As he escorted her through the pine trees to the front entrance of her cabin, Mace felt as if he was leading her into the lion’s den, but he wouldn’t abandon her like a helpless gazelle to be ravaged by the pride of the FBI. He’d promised to keep her safe, and he meant to do exactly that.
Right at the moment, however, Nicole didn’t seem to need protection. With her shoulders back and her head held high, she looked as though she could take on the world. By God, she was a beauty. He’d never known anyone like her before.
