Colton Christmas Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  “Now!” Mathilda roared, stepping closer to the playpen and waving the gun toward the chair again.

  Much as she despised the idea of capitulating, Amanda couldn’t risk anything that would rile Mathilda or give her cause to shoot Cheyenne. Numb with fear for her child, Amanda eased back to the wooden chair and sat down. With one hand still holding the gun, Mathilda took a rope from one of the shelves and slid the pre-made lasso loop around Amanda’s wrists. She tightened the loop, pinning Amanda’s hands together, then wrapping the rope around Amanda and the chair several times before securing her feet. When Amanda was tied, Mathilda walked over to the playpen.

  Icy terror flashed through Amanda. A cold sweat beaded on her lip. “Stay away from her! I did what you asked! Don’t hurt her. Please!” she sobbed.

  Mathilda scoffed and stashed the gun in her pocket. “A dead baby won’t bring a ransom, now will it?”

  Relief made Amanda wilt against the chair.

  “You, on the other hand, are a different matter,” Mathilda said as she lifted Cheyenne in her arms and headed deeper into the dark tunnel. “I can’t let you live now that I’ve shared my secrets with you. No, my dear, once I have that ransom money, you are expendable.”

  Chapter 21

  “You told them?” Darla screeched, stomping closer to Jethro’s bed. “Are you crazy? You’ll be charged with murder!”

  “Not crazy...dying.” Jethro’s eyes narrowed on his ex-wife. “Only crazy to let you stay...on my ranch...all these years. Holding this over me...” He drew a wheezing breath, his glare fiery. “No more. Get out! You and your lazy kids. I want you...off my ranch!”

  “You can’t do that!” Darla drew herself up, lifting her chin to a haughty angle. “I’ll tell everyone what you did! Even if it’s too late to charge you with the murder, your reputation will be ruined!”

  Slade gritted his teeth as the woman’s high-pitched whine scraped through him. What had Jethro ever seen in this harpy? “Perhaps you should be more worried about being charged as an accessory for withholding knowledge of a murder and false kidnapping allegations,” Slade said, narrowing a glare on Darla.

  “What? But I didn’t do—”

  “Exactly. You had a legal and moral obligation to report what you knew about my father’s murder. And you chose to stay silent for personal gain.” Slade balled a fist. If Darla weren’t a woman... “You disgust me.”

  She raised her chin and sniffed haughtily. “How dare you talk to me like that! You’re nothing but a ranch hand. It’ll be my word against yours. No one will believe—”

  “Actually, I’m a Wyoming Bureau of Investigation agent, working here undercover to find my father’s murderer and solve the open investigations from the past months.”

  Darla gasped. Jethro sighed and closed his eyes in resignation.

  “You’re what?” Levi asked.

  Slade glanced quickly to Levi. “I’m sorry to have deceived you. I needed to protect my cover to root out the truth.”

  “Does...Amanda know?” Jethro asked hoarsely.

  Slade jerked a nod. “She’s been working with me to find answers to a lot of questions. Things are finally beginning to make sense. The pieces are lining up.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Darla edging toward the door. “Hold it, Ms. Colton. I’m not through with you.” He stepped over to Darla and pinned her with a hard stare. “What do you know about Cheyenne’s kidnapping?”

  “Nothing!” Darla’s face flushed red, and her hand fluttered at her throat. “I was shopping with Tawny. Ask the police chief! Didn’t he just bring me back from there?”

  “A convenient alibi. You could have had Trip take her with plans to share the ransom money.”

  “Trip will have to answer for himself. I don’t know what he may or may not be involved with. But I did not touch that baby!”

  Darla’s shrill voice grated Slade’s already frayed nerves. Amanda’s hurt expression as she’d stormed out moments ago knifed through him. He needed to catch up with Amanda. Darla would keep.

  “I swear, I had nothing to do with—”

  Slade aimed a finger at Darla as he stalked for the door. “Don’t leave the house. You’re under arrest as an accessory to murder. Levi, watch her.”

  “No! You can’t—” she yelped, but Slade didn’t stick around to argue.

  He hurried to Amanda’s suite and knocked. Got no answer.

  “Amanda?” He opened the door, searched the solarium, bedroom, bathroom. Empty.

  The stable? Maybe she’d gone out to be with the animals she loved.

  He raced down the back staircase, taking the steps three at a time and snagging his coat as he trotted past the employee coatrack. As he stepped outside into the frigid air, he sent a searching glance around the empty ranch yard. Would she have ridden out in the pastures to think?

  He hurried across the yard to the stable and burst through the alley doors. “Amanda!” He headed first to Prince William’s stall. Amanda’s horse tossed his mane and snuffled at Slade. He patted the gelding’s nose while he sent a glance around the other stalls. “Amanda?”

  George strolled out of the tack room and gave a nod. “Howdy, Slade. What’s up?”

  “Have you seen Amanda?”

  The hand knitted his brow. “Naw. She hasn’t been in here. But I did hear someone hollering earlier, sounded a little like her. I thought it was just someone playing around, though. Sounded like it came from down by the petting barn or the storage building.”

  The storage building. Where Cheyenne was snatched. Slade’s chest tightened. “Thanks,” he called as he dashed out of the stable and ran toward the far end of the ranch grounds.

  “Amanda!” He skidded to a stop, slipping on the icy ground, when he reached the door of the storage building. “Amanda!” No one was around, but tracks in the snow cleared indicated someone had been there.

  Spotting something dark in the snow, he crouched to pick up the small object, bringing it up close to study it. His heart thumped when he recognized it—the baby Jesus from the nativity set in Amanda’s room. What was it doing out here? Was someone trying to send a message about Cheyenne? He tried to remember if the figure had been missing this morning when they woke.

  Shoving the Jesus figure into his pocket, he followed the tracks in the snow with his gaze. Some of the footprints were messier than others, more elongated, as if the person who made them had dragged her feet. Or resisted being led away.

  Adrenaline spiking, Slade traced the path made by the two sets of footprints, jogging through the snow. The trail ended at the small cabin where he’d found Jethro’s stallion, Midnight, wandering after Amanda’s attacker had used the horse to escape. Slade had searched the cabin then and not found anyone there. Had he missed something?

  Now, he stepped onto the small weather-beaten porch and knocked. Amanda had said the cabin belonged to the old couple who worked as the laundry lady and handyman. When no one answered the door, he tried the knob and found the cabin unlocked. Letting himself in, he called, “Hello? Mr. Black? Mrs. Black?”

  Nothing.

  “Amanda?” Then louder, “Amanda!”

  “Help!”

  The muffled cry seemed to come from below him. He glanced around the small cabin again, confused, searching for a stairway or door he’d missed. “Amanda? Where are you?”

  “In the cellar!” Amanda’s distant voice cried. She said something else, but muffled as her voice was, he only made out “trap.”

  He stiffened, his senses on full alert. Had he been duped into coming here for Amanda? He scoped the cabin again, paying particular attention to places a person could hide, waiting to jump him. He cursed himself for bolting from the house without stopping in his room for his gun. If someone had set a trap for him, he was unarmed and at a disadvantage.

 
“Slade!”

  Following the sound of Amanda’s voice, he moved across the room—wary, tensed, ready. “Where are you?” he repeated.

  “Under the table!”

  He frowned at the simple wooden table in the center of the floor, dropping to his knees to examine the wood planked floor. On closer examination, he noticed light shining through a knothole in one of the planks. Squinting through the hole in the floor, he could make out shelves and jars of vegetables. Trap...

  Trapdoor! He poked his finger in the hole and lifted. The flooring opened to a pit, complete with a homemade ladder. “Amanda?”

  “Down here! Hurry, Slade. She took Cheyenne!” The panic in Amanda’s voice was unmistakable.

  Slade scrambled down the ladder, and his pulse jumped when he found Amanda tied up on a rickety chair in the corner of the cellar.

  “Good God! Are you hurt?” he asked, hurrying to her.

  “No. I—I’m okay.”

  He framed her face between his hands and pressed a desperate kiss to her mouth. “When I saw the signs of a scuffle in the snow, I was so scared I’d be too late. I couldn’t stand losing you.”

  She hiccupped a sob, nodding her understanding of his fear. “You found me in time, but...Mathilda has Cheyenne! She took her that way—” she jerked her chin, motioning across the cellar “—down that tunnel.”

  “Tunnel?” Slade paused to look over his shoulder. “I’ll be damned. Where does it go?” He turned back to Amanda. “And what does Mathilda have to do with all of this?”

  He started working the knots that bound her.

  “Everything! She’s the mastermind behind all the terrible things that have happened!” As Slade finished untying the ropes binding her hands, Amanda recapped everything she’d learned from the head housekeeper.

  “And you never had a hint of her duplicity?” But even as he asked, Slade admitted the housekeeper had fooled him, too.

  Amanda bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “No. Apparently, she’s a grand actress. She’s played her part well for years. If anyone caught on to her act or got in her way, she killed them...or had her minion kill for her.”

  “Her minion?”

  “First Duke, then when he screwed up and got caught, she went after Jared. Chief Drucker was also under her spell apparently. She said they’d had an affair.”

  “The former police chief? The one they found was crooked and who hanged himself?” Slade finished freeing her hands and rubbed her chafed wrists between his hands.

  “The same.” She furrowed her brow in consternation. “But his suicide should be investigated. I bet she had a hand in it. To keep him from talking.”

  Slade bent to untie her feet, considering these revelations. “If she was willing to reveal so much to you, she clearly feels she’s won. That this whole thing she has planned is coming to an end.”

  Amanda leaned forward to help him with the knots at her ankles. “She said she’d be back to kill me once she had the ransom money.”

  Her fingers were shaking, and Slade wrapped her cold hands in his. “That’s not going to happen on my watch. We’re going to find her and Jared and finish this, once and for all.”

  Amanda raised damp eyes. “She has Cheyenne. What if she gets the money and still kills my baby?”

  Slade kissed her hard, again. “I will not let that happen. I swear.” Clenching his back teeth, he finished pulling the rope away from Amanda’s legs and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go get your daughter back.”

  Chapter 22

  “Where is Jared Hansen?” Slade demanded as he stormed into the stable where several of the hands were returning from the pastures and finishing the morning chores.

  He’d taken Amanda back to the main house and left her in Kate McCord’s and her sisters’ care. Kate was practically forcing hot tea down Amanda’s throat to warm her up. After Slade had called Chief Peters and explained the turn of events to Trevor and Gray, the two men joined him in mounting a search for the missing head housekeeper, her lackey and their tiny hostage.

  Cal Clark gave Slade a considering look, then shrugged. “Jared got a text message a few minutes ago and lit out of here like his tail was on fire.”

  “He didn’t say what the text was about or where he was headed?” Trevor asked.

  “Nope,” George replied, “but he took an ATV and headed toward the north pasture. Why?”

  “We now know that he’s the one behind many of the kidnappings and violent attacks over the last several months,” Trevor said. “He’s been working with Mathilda since he got here, and they’re on the run.”

  “Wait. Mathilda? The housekeeper?” Stewie said and laughed. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “No joke.” Slade sent the hand a hard, silencing glare. “The details are too long to get into now, but Mathilda attacked Amanda this morning and tied her up. She confessed to having plotted everything before she disappeared again with Cheyenne.”

  “God help me,” Cal snarled and made a fist, “if those two hurt little Cheyenne, I’ll break every bone in their bodies!”

  “Get in line,” Slade growled, then addressed the group. “Chief Peters and his officers are on the way, along with agents from the FBI who have been working the kidnapping case with the police.”

  “Seriously? Ms. Perkins is behind everything?” Stewie said, his expression baffled.

  Slade narrowed his gaze on the stunned hand. “Let’s focus here. This thing’s coming to a head, and I need all of you to help.”

  Stewie sobered and gave a stiff nod.

  Slade aimed a finger at him. “Stewie, I want you to wait here for Peters and his men. When they get here, have them follow you out to the north pasture on ATVs, unless we radio with new orders.”

  Stewie nodded. “All right.”

  Slade pointed to George. “Saddle my horse and yours.” He moved his aim to Cal. “You take the last ATV out. Gray, saddle up. You can ride with me. Trevor, I want you to drive a Jeep around via the county road and cut off that escape route. If you have weapons, take them, but don’t—”

  Slade stopped short when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the number and froze. “It’s Jared.” He motioned for quiet before answering the call. “Jared, it’s not too late for you to give yourself up.”

  “It’s not Jared, Mr. Kent,” a woman at the other end of the connection said. “It’s Mathilda Perkins. Listen carefully, and do exactly as I say.”

  Slade tensed. “Ms. Perkins, what have you—”

  “I said listen!” she snapped. “I’ll do the talking, and you’ll do what I tell you, if you want Cheyenne Colton back alive.”

  “If you hurt that baby girl, I’ll—”

  “Yes, yes. I know that you’ve fallen for Amanda and her daughter, and they’re important to you. That’s why I called you. I knew Amanda was a little...tied up right now.” She chuckled at her own joke. “So it falls to you to bring me the ransom money that I know is being delivered to the house.”

  “How—”

  She cut him off with a scolding, “Ahn, ahn, ahn!”

  Slade gritted his teeth and let the woman continue, holding the phone out so that Trevor and Gray, who were nearest him, could hear, as well.

  “I know you are more than just a ranch foreman, and even now you are probably calculating and working on a plan to trap me when you deliver the ransom. But hear me well, Mr. Kent. I’m not with Cheyenne anymore. Jared has her, and he has instructions to kill her if even one thing goes wrong.”

  Slade tried to mask the gut-wrenching fear that spiraled through him at the thought of Jared hurting Cheyenne. He raised his gaze to Trevor, baby Avery’s father, and he saw in the other man’s eyes an understanding of that level of terror.

  “If I see even one policeman or ranch hand with you
at the drop-off, I’ll give Jared orders to shoot Amanda’s kid. If the money doesn’t arrive at the drop by noon, she’s dead. If the money is rigged with exploding ink, or is padded with blank paper, or is hiding a tracking device, Cheyenne dies. And Amanda, too.” She paused and gave a satisfied hum. “That’s right. I’ve got Amanda stashed away as insurance that you comply. So don’t even think of pulling anything stupid. Got it?”

  You had Amanda, you witch, but I found her. Slade’s jaw was so tight his back teeth throbbed. He wouldn’t tip his hand on that score. He couldn’t risk riling Mathilda until Cheyenne was safe. “Where do you want the money dropped?”

  “There’s a fallen, hollow tree along the fence line in the north pasture. Do you know the spot?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t, but he was sure the other hands would.

  “Leave the money there in a satchel or bag of some kind. No locks. Then walk away. I’ll be watching. When I verify the money is all there, I’ll tell you where to meet Jared to get the baby. Do you understand?”

  Slade scanned the grim faces of the other men. “I do.”

  The screen flashed Call Ended and Slade lowered the phone, his chest tight.

  “Jared would never kill a baby,” George said. “I know I haven’t known him as long as you all, but that...killing a kid is just...evil.”

  “I wish I thought you were right about Jared,” Trevor said. “But all the attacks and murders the last few months say otherwise.”

  “How do you want to play this?” Gray asked, his gaze hard and troubled.

  Outside, the rumble of car engines and crunch of snow signaled the arrival of Chief Peters and the FBI agents. Slade walked to the stable door at the end of the center alley and waved the police officers in.

  Having seen the police cruisers arrive, Amanda burst through the back door from the house with Gabby on her heels. She jogged across the ranch yard and joined the circle of men. “Do you have the ransom money?”

  Chief Peters handed her a leather satchel. “It’s all there. Checked it myself.”