by Cassie Miles
“I want her here,” Heflin said.
“There’s nothing more she can do.”
Heflin paced nervously in the small cabin like a pit bull on a short leash. “There’s something she hasn’t told me yet.”
“Believe me,” Nicole said coldly. “I want this to be over as much as you do.”
“Where’s Joey?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “You’re supposed to be the special agent. Solve this mess.”
“Who are you protecting?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nobody.”
“You’re in the center of everything. You could have planned this whole scheme,” Heflin accused. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that you’re the mastermind.”
“That’s me, all right. A master criminal. I’m Al Capone and Ma Barker and Bonnie and Clyde all rolled into one.”
“Enough,” Blake Wentworth said. “I’ve heard enough of this petty squabbling.”
“Sir,” Heflin said, “with all due respect, I—”
“The bottom line,” Blake interrupted, “is that I paid top dollar for my nephew’s safety and he hasn’t been returned. I’ve been gypped.”
Mace felt his lip curl in disgust. With this guy, it was always about the money.
Blake rose from the sofa and announced, “I’m leaving. I’ll be at the Elkhorn Inn.”
Heflin breathed an almost audible sigh of relief. “That’s probably for the best, sir. We’ll keep you informed.”
“I don’t want minute-by-minute updates.” He thrust his arms into his camel overcoat. “I want results.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Contact me when you have news about my nephew.”
As Blake strode toward the door, Mace permitted himself a wry smile. He was fairly sure that the accommodations in Libby Tynsdale’s boarding house were a lot less luxurious than Blake expected.
Heflin sank into a chair beside the table where the state-of-the-art FBI surveillance equipment was arrayed. None of his electronics nor the helicopter search had produced results. His investigation was going nowhere fast. Under his breath he muttered, “Blake Wentworth is going to get me in a lot of trouble.”
Mace sympathized. “A rich guy like him must have powerful friends and influence.”
“He’s not as big a hotshot as he thinks,” Heflin said. “We’ve looked into his company finances. He’s hurting. He couldn’t have come up with that ransom on his own.”
“Not many people could,” Mace said. But most people who were on a budget didn’t parade around in thousand-dollar overcoats. No doubt it took a lot of capital to run Blake’s multinational empire.
“If my career wasn’t on the line,” Heflin said, “I wouldn’t mind seeing Blake lose his money.”
For the first time, Heflin had dropped his guard and was exchanging confidences like a regular cop. Mace hoped this signaled a change in attitude. He offered, “If you want, I can take over the investigation from here.”
“How? You’ve already got most of your deputies posted at roadblocks.”
“Here’s the thing,” Mace said. “The roadblocks were your idea. And I’ve got to tell you, they aren’t real effective. For one thing, you can see the roadblock from a long way off and turn around. For another, there are too many back roads and byways to catch every vehicle.”
“Don’t care,” Heflin said. “The roadblocks stay.”
“It’s been five hours since we turned over the money. If the kidnappers took off right away, they’re long gone.”
“They could be waiting until nightfall,” Heflin said.
This was the first intelligent observation Heflin had made. “I agree.”
“You do?”
“At night, surveillance from the chopper is worthless. It’s easier to slip by unnoticed.”
Heflin nodded. “What would you do?”
“My men know the territory. If you’ll let me, I can coordinate the search for Joey and for the kidnappers. There’s other manpower available. We can call in some of the volunteer search-and-rescue units.”
Heflin shook his head back and forth, but he didn’t say no.
Mace continued, “You met Barry, the night dispatcher.”
“The bald guy?”
“He’s a computer genius,” Mace said. “He has the entire county on a grid. We’d work everything through him and—”
“Hold it! Are you telling me that your guy is better than my agents?”
“This isn’t a damned game.” Mace felt Heflin’s resistance coming back. “Give me a chance. Let me try.”
“Please,” Nicole chimed in. “If there’s any way to find Joey, we’ve got to do it.”
“Joey’s only chance is me,” Heflin said. “What if the kidnappers have already left this county? Then you’d have no jurisdiction.”
“Not a problem,” Mace said. “We have good relations with the state highway patrol, the surrounding counties and on the Ute reservation.”
“This is an FBI operation, Sheriff.” Wearily Heflin stood. “I’m in charge. I don’t need your night dispatcher stepping in. A computer genius, my eye.”
A hopeless jackass. Heflin wasn’t going to change his mind. “All right, do it your way. But I’m going home, and I’m taking Nicole with me.”
He held her parka, and she quickly slipped into it. She was as anxious to leave as he was.
They were at the door when Heflin called out, “Hey, Nicole.”
Wearily, she turned back toward him. “Don’t worry, Special Agent. I won’t leave town.”
She stepped through the door with Mace. He was the one and only reason she was staying in Elkhorn. Because of him, running away was not an option. She’d worked hard to gain his trust and wouldn’t betray him, wouldn’t leave him. Their budding relationship promised a beautiful result, and she would not discard it lightly.
As she strode away from the Wentworth cabin, she hoped she would never have to return. She wanted to stay with Mace. At his ranch. She wanted to stay there forever.
When they were safely inside the Explorer with the doors closed and locked, he turned to her. “Hell of a day.”
“You said it.”
“I talked to Jewel on the phone. She made a meat loaf for dinner.”
“Sounds heavenly,” she said. Being alone with him felt ever so good. Despite her exhaustion and her worry, she smiled back at him. “I’ll settle for a few hours without Heflin in my face, asking me the same questions over and over. He thinks I’m a criminal mastermind. Hah!”
Mace started up the car and threw it in reverse. “All things considered, you handled the situation well.”
She sensed a hint of criticism. “Do you mean with Heflin’s interrogation?”
“And during the ransom delivery,” he said.
“There wasn’t anything else I could do. I had to follow the kidnapper’s instructions.”
“I was there,” he said as he pulled onto the main road. “I know what you went through.”
Still, she heard hesitation in his voice. He didn’t sound as if he wanted to give her a medal. “Do you think someone else could have done better?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it. There weren’t supposed to be any more secrets between us.”
“Okay, here’s my theory. You were set up. The kidnappers picked you to deliver the ransom because they were counting on your fear. They knew you’d believe their threats.” He paused. “Did Joey know you’d been abused?”
Not this again! He simply wouldn’t give up on his theory that Joey had participated in his own kidnapping. “Joey is a victim.”
“Then where is he?”
She leaned back in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. Where was Joey? When she talked to him on the phone, he sounded lighthearted and free. She was sure he hadn’t been faking. “Why would he purposely stay in hiding?”
“Here’s my theory,” Mace said. “Joey is choosing not to come forward becaus
e he got what he wanted.”
“The money?”
“You heard what Heflin said. Blake’s business isn’t doing well. If Joey asked for dough to pay off his gambling debts, Uncle Blake would’ve turned him down.”
For the first time, that reasoning made sense. She’d been fighting this logic since the moment Mace brought it up, but now she could see how Joey might have arranged his own abduction. Otherwise, he’d turn himself in.
During the past few days, he’d pleaded with her. Every time they’d talked, he begged her to follow the kidnapper’s instructions. She’d thought he was scared, but it was just as likely that he wanted to make sure she gave them the ransom. He wanted the money—his share of the money. “That little creep. That irresponsible, spoiled-brat, wannabe-artist, rich kid. I can’t believe he’d do this to me.”
“He used your fear,” Mace said.
Seriously angry, she clenched her fingers into fists. “He used me.” She pounded her fists on her thighs. “He knew I’d be terrified of the threats, and he used my fear.” She pounded once, twice, three times. “Damn him!”
“I’m glad you’re finally seeing reason.”
“He stole my savings,” she growled. “Two thousand bucks. Do you know how hard I had to work to save that nest egg? Do you have any idea how many hamburgers I had to serve?”
“Tons of burgers,” Mace said.
“When I think of how he played me, I could kill him.” She glanced over at Mace and noticed his huge grin. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s good to see you show your emotions,” he said. “When you’re really irate like this, what do you do?”
“I get myself under control.”
“Do you ever get wild and drunk?” he asked.
“Never.”
“Come on, Nicole. Do you scream? Break dishes?”
She never allowed her emotions to erupt. She felt as though, if she started screaming or breaking dishes, she wouldn’t stop until she was hauled away in a straitjacket. “I’m not that sort of person.”
“How do you let go?”
“There is one thing,” she said sheepishly. “It’s kind of like your battle cry.”
“This battle cry?” He threw back his head. “Yi-yi-yi-yi.”
“That’s the one,” she said.
“Well? What do you do to let off steam?”
She rolled her eyes. “I like to drive with all the windows open and the CD player blasting.”
He turned on the road leading to the ranch house. “Let’s do it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your car is gassed up and ready to roll. Let’s go for a ride with the windows down.”
Though it was dusk and chilly, that sounded like the most brilliant idea she’d ever heard. A sense of adventure cut through her outrage. “I should warn you that I sometimes sing along.”
“The louder the better.”
They parked in front of the ranch house. From inside, she saw the lights from the kitchen where Jewel was preparing meat loaf. The long, wood-frame house with a shake-shingle roof looked cozy and inviting. Perhaps they should just go inside and relax. That would be sensible and sane. “I feel ridiculous, Mace.”
“Good,” he said. “I want you to feel something. To feel everything.”
“That’s not how I am.” But it sounded appealing. “At the very least I need a destination.”
“Denver,” he suggested.
“I can never go there,” she said quickly. “That’s where Derek is.”
“How about Santa Fe?”
“Something closer,” she said. “I know. We can go to the Elkhorn Café. They owe me a paycheck. Since that scumbag Joey stole all my money, I’m going to need every penny.”
“You’re on,” he said. “We’ll go for a wild and crazy drive to the Elkhorn Café.”
When she slid into the driver’s seat of her little Ford Escort, she felt good—even better when Mace planted himself in the passenger seat. Usually when she got behind the wheel, she was running away from something. Now she had a destination that was somehow more important than the café. And she had a partner, somebody who was riding shotgun, a buddy, a protector. She wasn’t alone anymore.
Grinning, she adjusted the seat forward.
Mace fastened his seat belt. “The deputy who gassed up your car mentioned that the brakes seemed to be slipping.”
“Not a chance,” she said. “I keep my little car in excellent condition.”
Too often, her survival had depended upon being able to make a quick escape. She turned the key in the ignition, and the engine hummed to life. It wasn’t an expensive roar like Joey’s BMW, but the familiar whirring filled her with satisfaction.
She glanced at the dashboard. Mace was right. The warning light for the brakes was on. It couldn’t be anything serious. She’d had the car tuned up less than a month ago.
Mace had already put down his window. “Let’s do it.”
With her window down and her headlights on, she slipped in a tape. “It’s ABBA,” she said. “The old tunes are best for cruising.”
When Mace started bobbing his head along to “Dancing Queen,” he looked so adorable that she could hardly stand it. Who would’ve thought the sheriff had boogie in his soul?
She drove to the end of the driveway. The brakes did seem mushy, but they weren’t going far—only to the Elkhorn Café and back. She made a left and gunned it.
The chilly evening breeze whipped through the car. Her troubles washed away. She turned up the volume and sang along. Laughter bubbled up inside her. She felt utterly, totally alive.
“I want to dance,” she shouted.
“Anything you want,” he yelled back. “Pull over. We’ll do it right here.”
When she pressed on the brakes, they were slow to catch, but then the car stopped. With the music still blaring, they jumped out.
She danced in the headlights. Her shoulders jiggled, and her hips swerved. Her arms waved over her head in time with the solid disco beat.
Mace tried a fancy turn that made her laugh. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Not at powwow,” he said.
She danced closer to him. “You’re pretty hip for a sheriff.”
“You’re just plain pretty.”
She was in his arms. Her body pressed against his. She kissed him quickly, lightly, teasingly. Then she danced away. “Do you come here often?”
“Yeah, baby,” he said. “What’s your sign?”
“I’m not an easy pickup,” she said. “I never kiss on the first date.”
“I’ve got a lot more than kissing on my mind.”
She was ready to make love with him, and she knew it would be different and better than anything she’d ever experienced before.
He caught hold of her hand, twirled her away from him, then pulled her close. Standing in the headlights, they kissed. His lips were warm in the cool Colorado night. Her heart beat even faster than the music. Fluttering like a butterfly broken free from its chrysalis, she soared high in the night, high as the stars.
When she looked up into his eyes, she felt a dreamy smile spread across her face.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Happy.” Such a weird sensation after a day in hell. “I want to make love.”
“Then it’s unanimous.”
“Let’s go back to the house.” She could hardly wait to get into his bed, to make love with him all night long.
They returned to her car. Before she whipped a U-turn, she checked in her rearview mirror. “That’s strange. There’s a car behind us. He’s just sitting there with the lights off.”
Mace swiveled around so he could see through the back window. “Damn.”
“What is it?” Her excitement paled as she remembered the final threat from the kidnapper. He said he’d be watching and she could never be safe. “It’s not them, is it?”
“I can’t tell from this distance, but the shape is right. It might be t
he Jeep.” He continued to peer into the gathering darkness. “I didn’t notice that car when we drove this road before. Did you?”
“No,” she said. Why was this happening now? What could they possibly want from her?
Mace pulled out his cell phone. In an instant he was talking to dispatch. His instructions were terse. “I think I’ve spotted the kidnappers. They’re on the road leading to my house.”
She turned off the tape. “Mace, what should I do?”
“Make a U-turn.” His gun was in his hand.
“Really? You think I should drive toward them.”
“I know you love this little car,” he said. “But you can’t outrun a three-legged heifer in this thing. Drive back to the house. We’ll be safer inside.”
Resentment cut through her—cold as the October wind. This wasn’t fair! Every time she thought joy was within her grasp, she was disappointed.
Quickly she made her turn and drove directly at the waiting vehicle, directly toward danger. As she sped by them, her muscles tensed, and she waited for gunfire.
But nothing happened.
Mace turned around in his seat, keeping an eye on the Explorer. Quietly, he said. “They’re turning. They’re coming after us.”
“That’s crazy. Why would they take the risk of being so close to your house?” The logical answer flashed before her eyes. “Unless they don’t plan to leave witnesses. They want to kill us.”
“Keep going,” he said. “It’s less than a mile.”
She could see the edge of his property. Her foot tapped the brakes. They were worse than loose. There was no response at all.
She jammed her foot to the floor. The car slowed slightly but not enough. “I can’t make the turn.”
“What?”
“My brakes don’t work.”
She swerved off the road. Bouncing over the shoulder and the rutted drainage ditch, she steered toward the lights of his ranch house. Her front fender crashed through the fence. The wood splintered across her hood, but she kept going, unable to stop. Her car bumped and jostled wildly across the uneven land until she plowed into a spruce tree beside the house. The air bags exploded.
Mace fought his way free. “Are you hurt?”
