She wilted in his arms. “Oh, Slade...this is so hard.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
She tipped her chin up, and her expression said she understood where his thoughts were. His daughter, his wife.
“Come on.” He escorted her to her bedroom and helped her undress and tumble into bed. When he’d stripped off his own jeans, he climbed in next to her and cuddled her against his body. “Now sleep. You’ll be better prepared to help us find Cheyenne tomorrow if you get some rest tonight.”
She tucked her head under his chin and sighed. “I’ll try.”
After shifting restlessly for more than an hour, Amanda finally stilled, and her breathing grew deep and slow. Slade tried to sleep, as well, but whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Cheyenne’s whale toy lying next to a puddle of Tom Brooks’s blood.
He clenched his teeth and held Amanda closer. Despite what he’d told Amanda, he knew if the kidnapper was desperate enough to kill the people around Cheyenne, they had no guarantee the baby was safe. The longer it took to find Cheyenne, the more danger Amanda’s daughter would be in.
Chapter 19
The trill of Slade’s phone woke them the next morning at dawn. Amanda bolted upright in bed, a suffocating grief and worry swamping her the minute she blinked the world into focus. The previous day’s events crashed down on her, and nausea swirled in her belly.
“What d’you have?” he said without preamble as he answered his cell phone.
Amanda pressed her ear close to Slade’s, listening to Chief Peters’s report.
“Found Darla Colton and Tawny Lowden at a hotel in Jackson. They claim they were planning a day of Christmas shopping. We’ve brought them back for questioning, but the baby’s not with them.”
Amanda’s heart sank. Cheyenne might not be with her stepmother, but she wasn’t ready to write Darla and Tawny off as suspects.
“We’ll reassemble the search team and head out again, but at this point, my bet is the kidnapper has Cheyenne stashed at a motel or safe house somewhere,” Chief Peters said. “Our time would probably be better used arranging to get the ransom and setting up a sting to catch the kidnapper at the drop-off.”
Slade nodded. “I agree.”
Adrenaline flowed through Amanda, wiping away the last wisps of sleep from her brain. She tossed back the covers and dressed hurriedly, energized by purpose.
Slade finished his call with Chief Peters and slid out of bed. “Where are you off to in such a rush?”
“You heard the chief. We need to arrange Cheyenne’s ransom. I have part of it in my account, but I need Jethro to cover the rest. I’m going to see if he’s awake.”
Slade yanked on his jeans and boots and followed her down the hall to Jethro’s suite. Amanda knocked but didn’t wait for a summons before entering her father’s sitting room. Levi was already awake and cradling a mug of coffee as he chatted intimately with Kate. The fragrant plate of fresh croissants on the side table was, no doubt, Kate’s excuse to come up to visit her fiancé. Amanda’s stomach rumbled, but she shoved aside thoughts of food. How could she think of eating until Cheyenne was safely home?
“Is Dad awake?” she asked Levi.
“He was a few minutes ago.”
Kate sent Amanda an anxious frown. “I’m so sorry about Cheyenne. If I can do anything to help, please let me.”
Amanda nodded. “Thanks.”
She bustled into her father’s bedroom, and as it always did in recent weeks, her father’s frail form and hollow eyes shocked her anew. Pain shot to her heart. Despite the horrid things she’d learned in California about her father’s past, he was still her father, the only parent she had. Despite his flaws, she loved and needed him. Watching her once robust and handsome father fade away was difficult on a good day. Today, with Cheyenne missing, she longed for the security she once knew, having her father in charge and reigning over his ranch like a medieval lord.
A sob caught in her throat as Jethro turned his head to face her. “Amanda. About time you came...to see me again.” He drew a slow shallow breath.
“I’m sorry. I’ve...”
“Been busy.” He wheezed as he drew a breath. “I know. I...invented that excuse.” Her father’s eyes shifted to Slade as he stepped up close behind her, a wall of strength and support.
“Dad...” Amanda sucked in a shaky breath. “The kidnapper struck again. He...he killed Tom Brooks and took Cheyenne.”
Jethro’s graying eyebrows dipped low in a scowl. “Took Cheyenne?”
Amanda felt panic climbing her throat, and she swallowed hard, determined to keep her composure today in order to help her daughter. “Yes. She was kidnapped yesterday, and they’re demanding five million dollars for her return.”
Jethro’s eyes widened, and he struggled to sit up, not making it before collapsing against his pillows again. “Five million!”
A knot lodged in Amanda’s chest, remembering Jethro’s cruel refusal to pay the ransom for Trevor Garth’s daughter this summer. Though baby Avery had been safely rescued, Amanda still held her father’s selfishness against him. Surely he wouldn’t refuse to help his own granddaughter, too!
“I have about half of it, but I need your help with the balance. Please, Daddy!” she cried. “For Cheyenne...”
Jethro stared at her, his expression stunned. “Of course I’ll pay her ransom. She’s my granddaughter!”
Relief poured through Amanda so sweet and strong that her knees buckled. Slade caught her and wrapped her in a firm hug. He gently kissed her hair and murmured, “See, I told you not to worry. We’re going to get her back, honey.”
Jethro raised a gnarled finger. “What’s this? You and the Kent boy...are involved?”
Amanda angled her head toward her father. “The Kent boy? Daddy, he’s hardly a boy.”
“I only mean...” Jethro paused. “I remember his father.”
Slade stiffened.
Amanda glanced up at Slade, then back to Jethro. “Yes. His father was the policeman killed on our property ten years ago.” She squared her shoulders. “And, yes, I have feelings for Slade. Is that a problem for you?”
Jethro eyed them for long silent seconds. “Doesn’t seem as though I have a choice.”
Amanda twitched a grin and squeezed Slade’s hand. “No. You don’t.” She drew a deep breath. “The sooner you can arrange for the money to be withdrawn, the better. The kidnappers will be calling soon with directions for a drop.”
Jethro nodded, his eyes blazing and more alive than she’d seen them in months. “Consider it done.”
* * *
Amanda turned and headed out of her father’s room, and when Slade tried to follow her, Jethro said, “Mr. Kent, wait. I need...a word with you.”
When Amanda hesitated, Slade said, “Go on. I’ll catch up.” He turned back to Jethro, stepping closer to the side of the man’s bed, meeting his eyes. “Yes?”
Jethro waited for the bedroom door to click shut, then narrowed a keen gaze on Slade. “Well, you heard my daughter,” Jethro said slowly, his breath weak. “She has...feelings for you. Deep feelings...judging by the look in her eyes.”
Slade rubbed his chest. The familiar gnawing still bit at him but was softened by a gentle warmth when he thought of Amanda. “Yes, sir. I heard her.”
“So what are your...feelings toward her? Because if you...hurt my daughter...I’ll—”
“I have no intention of hurting Amanda.”
“Then you love her?”
Yes. The answer came to him immediately, with no need for debate, but somehow he wasn’t ready to admit the truth.
“Amanda is beautiful, intelligent, warm and vibrant and—”
“Hell, boy! I know all that!” Jethro sniped. “She’s my...daughter! Answer...the question.”
Jethro made a face. “Care very much...I have feelings for him,” he grumbled under his breath. “Damn youngsters. Don’t equivocate. If you...love her, say it!”
“Fine. I love—”
“Not to me!” Jethro scoffed. “Tell her. My daughter...deserves to be happy.”
“I agree.”
“Good.” Jethro jerked a nod and closed his eyes wearily.
Taking Jethro’s silence as a dismissal, Slade turned to leave.
“It was an accident,” Jethro said darkly.
Slade hesitated, faced Jethro again. “What was an accident?”
Jethro opened his eyes, and the anguish and guilt in his expression made Slade’s pulse ramp into high gear.
“If you’re going to...have a future with my daughter—” Jethro drew a slow ragged breath “—you should know the truth.”
Slade’s hands balled at his sides, struggling for patience. “What truth?”
“It was me,” Jethro whispered, then coughed and said louder, “It was me. I shot your father.”
Slade’s gut pitched, and fury flooded him like a tide of hot lava. “What?”
“I thought he was...an intruder. I’ve made a lot of enemies in my life, some who...settle their business with a bullet in the brain. I never meant...to kill anyone.”
“You murdered my father?”
“Not murder. It was an accident....”
“That you failed to report. You even covered it up by taking evidence from the scene.” His volume rose as all the implications sharpened in his mind. “You pried the bullet out of the fencepost, then left my father’s body lying there—”
“I panicked. I had too much at stake,” Jethro said, his voice stronger than it had been moments earlier.
In his peripheral vision, Slade saw Levi step into the room, clearly concerned by the shouting.
“Like being discovered as a fraud? Having the world learn your firstborn child was never kidnapped. That, instead, you gave him away!”
“What?” Levi asked, his voice heavy with disgust.
“How...where did you hear that?” Jethro asked. “Did Darla tell you?”
Slade took a second to absorb that question. “Darla knew you gave Cole away?” Slade asked, stunned.
“I...yes. And...she knew I killed your father.”
Beside him, Slade heard Levi mumble a curse.
Jethro looked away, grumbling, “She’s been holding it over me for...years now. Blackmailing me. That’s why she...and her brats still live...on my ranch. The only reason.” He scoffed. “But not anymore. Now that...you know the truth, she has nothing...that can hurt me or my family.”
“As if you ever cared how any of this would hurt your family,” Levi scoffed, then turned to Slade. “You said he gave Cole away. How did you find out?”
Slade explained briefly about visiting Breen and learning about the hush money, Jethro’s association with organized crime and his distant relationship to the former president.
“Breen had no right...to tell you any of that. We had a deal!” Jethro grumbled.
“After Amanda left with Cheyenne,” Slade continued, undeterred by Jethro’s glare, “Breen said he came to Dead River to check up on Jethro and saw him hand over a baby to a woman in the parking lot of the motel late one night. The next morning the news was full of reports Cole had been kidnapped.”
A gasp drew everyone’s attention to the bedroom door. Amanda stared back at Slade, her face pale.
Slade’s heart sunk. He hadn’t wanted her to find out this way. Hadn’t wanted her to find out at all if he could have protected her from the truth.... “Amanda, I—”
“Is it true?” she rasped. But her gaze was no longer on Slade. She held the door frame and stared at her father, shaking. “Did you give Cole away? Kill Slade’s father? Lie to all of us all these years?”
Jethro held his daughter’s gaze, his breathing more labored and wheezy than before. “Amanda, I can...explain.”
“No! You can’t explain away thirty years of lies! You can’t explain away the fact that you got rid of your own son like so much garbage. That you murdered a man and covered it up. No deathbed confession or last-minute feigned affection for your family can make up for the years of hurt you’ve caused! It’s...unforgivable!” Her voice broke and tears rolled down her cheeks. Slade took a step toward her, and she threw up a hand. “No. You knew about this and didn’t tell me.”
“I wanted to verify—”
“Save it.” She jerked a harsh glare back to her father. “You are dead to me, old man. I want nothing to do with you, your lies or your dirty money ever again!”
With that, she whirled around and nearly knocked Darla and Chief Peters over as they arrived at Jethro’s door.
Slade started to follow Amanda, but Chief Peters grabbed his arm. “Hey, Kent, I need you to take charge of Ms. Colton here. Question her, take her statement. The department is slammed following up on the tips coming in about Cheyenne’s kidnapping.”
“I—” Slade glanced past the chief, down the hall where Amanda had disappeared. She was probably in no mood to talk to him, and he had a job to do. “Sure. I’ll do it.”
With a tip of his hat, Chief Peters left Darla with him.
“What’s all this about?” she asked. “I had nothing to do with Amanda’s kid disappearing!”
“But you have, for the past several years, concealed your knowledge that Jethro Colton shot and killed my father, a police officer, and that he hid evidence of that crime.” Slade narrowed a menacing glare on Darla. “Am I right?”
* * *
Her father had given Cole away, had lied about it for years. Numb and cold to the core, Amanda sat in her solarium and stared blankly ahead. How could he be so unloving, so despicably deceitful? The man who’d taught her to ride a horse, had encouraged her to pursue veterinary school and had given her a diamond solitaire necklace when Cheyenne was born couldn’t have thrown away his own son. Could he?
Of course he could. Because the same man had been a distant, demanding father. Those horseback lessons had been grueling, with Jethro expecting perfection. Veterinary school had satisfied Jethro’s wish to have a full-time vet on the ranch. The diamond necklace had been his attempt to assuage his conscience over not visiting her in the hospital. Not meeting his first grandchild—in fact—for almost a week. Because he didn’t care, Amanda admitted to herself after months, years, of making excuses for her father.
Amanda, I can explain...
Reyna brushed against her shins and, absently, Amanda reached down to pat her. After a few more minutes of stewing, the scene across from her came into focus. The nativity. Seeing the baby Jesus in the manger sent a fresh stab of pain through her.
She missed Cheyenne. Was worried sick about her. Ached for her.
Plucking the figure of the Christ baby from the manger, she squeezed the figure in her hand, a sob rising in her throat. Please, God, keep my baby safe! Bring her back to me!
Suddenly the room seemed to close in on her. She couldn’t breathe. Needed air.
Still clutching the baby figurine in her hand, she bolted from the room and raced down the back stairs, nearly knocking Mathilda over in the process. She burst through the door and staggered out into the icy morning, gulping in the cold air. Without any conscious intent, she wandered toward the storage building where Cheyenne had been kidnapped. When she reached the outbuilding, she stood in the open door, staring into the dark storage room.
“Miss Amanda?”
She spun around to find Mathilda watching her.
“Are you all right, dear?”
“No.” Amanda d
issolved into tears. Though Mathilda had always been pleasant and kind to her, Amanda had never considered her especially maternal. Faye Frick, her nanny growing up, or Hilda had always filled the mother role when Amanda or her sisters needed a woman’s comfort or advice. But Faye had been murdered in July, and Hilda was somewhere in the ranch house busy with her duties. The sympathetic look on Mathilda’s face reached out to Amanda. And she needed a motherly hug and guidance more than ever.
Throwing herself into Mathilda’s arms, she clung to the head housekeeper and sobbed. “Everything is falling apart. My whole world...” She drew a ragged breath. “Cheyenne’s been kidnapped, everyone around me keeps getting killed, and...and my father...”
Mathilda patted her back awkwardly. “I know, Miss Amanda. It’s hard to see your father die.”
Amanda levered back, shaking her head. “No, it’s worse than that. He— He’s a murderer!”
Mathilda blinked, her body stiffening. “What?”
“Ten years ago...Dad’s the one who killed Slade’s father! I overheard him admit it to Slade and Levi. And...there’s more.”
The housekeeper gripped Amanda’s arms, clearly stunned by these revelations. “What else did he say?”
“Cole was never kidnapped,” she said, then swallowed hard as grief tightened her throat. “My father gave his own son away and lied about it to the police. It was all a big cover-up! Darla knew and used the truth to blackmail him. That’s why he lets her and her horrible kids live here!”
“He what?” Mathilda frowned, shock making her complexion pale.
“What will Slade think of me now?”
Mathilda furrowed her brow. “Slade?”
“I think I...I love him. But my father murdered his dad!” she sobbed, stepping close to embrace Mathilda again and bury her face in the housekeeper’s coat. “How can he get past that?”
“That is...big. I, uh—” Mathilda patted her back.
“I had enough to deal with today arranging the ransom money to save Cheyenne from the kidnappers. But now my father has apparently decided that he needs to confess all his sins on his deathbed.” She leaned back again and swiped moisture from her eyes. “Did you know my dad had connections to organized crime? That he took hush money from a political slush fund and used it to buy this ranch? His entire fortune was built with tainted money!”
Colton Christmas Rescue Page 19
