by B. J Daniels
But Will got there first. Already in motion, he hit Ralph full force with a body block. The kidnapper slammed into the side of the Olds with a loud thunk, dropping the backpack. Ralph spun and came at him, head down, charging blindly.
Will dodged Ralph’s charge, catching the large man in the side with an elbow and a jab to the jaw.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Al start to get out of the Olds, as Samantha forced Zack to the open door of the Bronco.
“What the hell’s going on?” a coarse male voice boomed from the back of the café.
Al slammed the car door, grinding a few gears as he fought to get the car into reverse. A limping Ralph scrambled around to the passenger side and barely got in before Al tromped on the gas and, gravel flying, sped away. Heading east. The same direction Samantha and Zack would be going.
He stared after the kidnappers, his heart thundering. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been more afraid. They’d come after Zack. Again.
“Is everything all right?”
He turned at the sound of the voice. A burly cook stood in the café doorway with a meat cleaver in his beefy hand.
“Fine,” he called.
The man nodded, then turned, shaking his head, and went back into the kitchen. Across the narrow street, several people eyed them from the back of a sporting goods store.
Will bent to scoop Zack’s backpack from the dirt, still shaken. How many kidnappers tried to grab a little kid in broad daylight? Especially when they knew the second time what they were dealing with: Samantha.
When he straightened, he saw that Samantha had the boy in her arms, crushing him to her, her expression a mixture of fear and anger and relief. She looked up at Will, determination burning in her eyes, revealing a strength of will that might have surpassed his own.
The moment she released Zack, he ran straight for Will, hand outstretched, face pale.
He handed the boy the backpack. Zack hugged it to his thin chest. Tears welled in the large dark eyes. What was in that damn backpack, anyway?
Will shifted his gaze to Samantha. But she wasn’t looking at the backpack or the boy’s reaction to it. She was staring at Will.
“Are you all right?” Her voice sounded close to tears, and she looked scared. With surprise, he realized her fear now was for him.
He felt a bubble of pleasure, was touched by her concern. “I’m fine,” he assured her with a smile. Then he noticed the bruise darkening her cheek where Ralph had hit her. His gut clenched.
“We’d better get going,” she said, putting an arm around Zack’s shoulders, her gaze coming up to meet Will’s. “Thanks.”
He shrugged, desperately trying to come up with a good reason why he couldn’t go to Seattle. Of course, she wouldn’t want him along. She’d feel she had to protect him as well as Zack. But he liked that about her.
“No, I mean it,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You had it covered,” he assured her as he stepped over to the Bronco to open the passenger door for Zack.
She seemed to hesitate before she went around to the driver’s side, as if she thought she should say something more.
“Goodbye. Again.” She opened her door.
He just nodded and leaned into the car. “Get in the back,” he whispered to the kid.
Zack was fast on his feet, both physically and mentally. He grinned, then hopped in the back seat and buckled up, as Will straightened to look over the roof of the Bronco at Samantha.
“What are you doing?” Her tone made it clear she not only knew, but was dead set against it.
“Going to Seattle. Unless I can talk you into taking Zack to the police and letting them handle this.”
“I can’t do that, Will.”
He nodded, not in the least surprised. Hadn’t he known there was a lot more to this? Common sense warned him to walk away. Who knew what he was letting himself in for? And he could be pretty sure Samantha wasn’t going to tell him. On top of that, he’d lay odds that she still didn’t have a plan. That in itself should have sent him packing.
But for the first time in his life, something stronger made him slide into the front seat and close the door behind him. If he’d had to put a name to it, he’d have called it insanity.
* * *
SAMANTHA STOOD LOOKING over the roof of the Bronco, breathing deeply as she counted to ten. The man was impossible. He didn’t have a clue how dangerous this was or what was at stake. She didn’t even know. But she knew one thing for sure: nothing was going the way she’d thought it would. The kidnappers had tried to take Zack again and in broad daylight. Something was very wrong, and the last thing she needed was some contractor playing hero.
She counted to ten again and then climbed in without looking at him. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Not a clue.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Or you, right?” he asked. “It’s just a job, right?”
His tone made it clear he suspected this case was personal. “Speaking of jobs, don’t you have one you need to get to?” she asked, finally looking over at him.
He smiled, although a little regretfully, she thought. His blue eyes were bright behind his wire rims.
“Actually, I’m on a leave of sorts. Some personal things I needed to tend to. But they can wait.”
He was just being a nice guy. And here she’d thought guys like him were extinct. They could be—if she let him get involved in this.
“Please, let me handle this,” she said more kindly.
He buckled his seat belt. “Believe me, I won’t get in your way. I’m just going along for the ride. I’ve heard Seattle is nice this time of year.”
She shook her head. “I know you want to help—”
“You really don’t expect me to walk away knowing those men haven’t given up?” he said, his gaze suddenly intent.
So this was about protecting her and Zack. Under other circumstances it might have been funny, since she was trained for this and he wasn’t. She took a deep breath. He’d gotten in a couple of lucky punches in the café parking lot. But he didn’t realize the kind of people she was dealing with. He was a nice man with a comfortable, ordinary life, and he’d mistakenly thought the two of them had that in common.
“Will, I appreciate your worrying about us, but I have to tell you, there’s a good chance it’s going to get a lot more dangerous, and quite frankly, you aren’t—” She waved a hand through the air. He was no Van Damme. “Trained for this.”
He raised a brow. “But you are, right?” He smiled at her, all hundred watts.
He did have a wonderful smile.
“I promise to stay out of your way. Just ignore me.”
Ignore him? He had to be kidding.
Desperate, she thought about trying to force him out of the car at gunpoint. Great idea. She’d seen this particular set of his jaw before. Well, she could always handcuff him again. But she had a feeling it would take more than a kiss next time.
“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” she asked with a sigh. “Or make you come to your senses?”
“Not until we reach Seattle and Zack is safe.”
He had no idea what that might take. She had no idea what that was going to take. She glanced back at Zack. He looked pleased Will was coming along.
She looked at Will again and felt a sharp pang of guilt. She’d done this to this man. Taken a perfectly normal man, kissed him, handcuffed him and ruined him.
If he kept behaving this out of character—She hated to think what he’d do next. She’d have to watch him closely.
Come on, admit it, you like having him along.
Right, just what I need—a man who wants to protect me even though he doesn’t have a clue from what.
Exactly.
It’s stupid.
You think it’s kind of sweet. And you know Zack likes him.
Mumbling under her breath, she started the Bronco and b
acked out, wondering when she’d be seeing the kidnappers again. At least now she knew it was just a matter of time. The kidnappers wanted Zack too badly. Zack and his backpack.
* * *
WILL FELT STRANGELY light-headed, senses heightened, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping.
Reckless, was more like it. It was as if someone had taken control of both his mind and body. He was wearing another man’s clothing. Riding in a souped-up Bronco. On the run from criminals. With a woman who was all wrong for him and a five-year-old thief.
And amazingly, what surprised him the most was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good.
He watched for the dark green Oldsmobile as they drove through the sleepy little town of Malta. He didn’t think the kidnappers would make another move on them in town. But what did he know?
She pulled up to the stop sign across from Honker’s convenience store and gas station at the junction for Highway 2. Then turned west.
“We need another car,” she said.
He glanced around. “Do you want me to look for one you can hot-wire?”
She glanced over at him askance. “I don’t steal cars—” she said, sounding offended. Just kids.
“I have a cousin who lives in Butte. We can borrow his pickup.”
“Another cousin?” he asked in disbelief.
“It’s a big family.”
“I should say. Just how many cousins do you have?”
She shook her head. “On both sides of the family? A lot. I’ve never bothered to count them.”
He couldn’t imagine a family that large. His had been small—just his father, mother and sister. His father’s work required him to travel a lot, moving his family with him, never settling for long in one spot. If he had a lot of relatives, he wasn’t aware of them.
The Bronco cruised down the two-lane, the land flat, pale-yellow dry and smelling of autumn. In the distance he could make out the purple smudge of a mountain range.
She hadn’t driven far when she pulled down a fishing access road and stopped beside the Milk River, flushing a flock of Canada geese. The river water was brown, low and slow-moving.
“Zack, sweetie,” she said, shutting off the engine to turn in her seat. “I’m sorry but I need to look in your backpack.”
Will glanced over his shoulder to see Zack slip off one earphone. “What?”
He was pretty sure the kid had heard her the first time and was just stalling.
“I need to look in your backpack,” she repeated. “Please. It’s important.”
Reluctantly, Zack lifted the pack from beside him, cradling it in his lap for a moment before he slowly handed it to her.
Will watched with anticipation as Samantha dumped the contents onto the console between them. He was immediately surprised by how little was inside. And nothing, unfortunately, looked all that interesting. Just kid stuff. Candy and gum, some worn Pokémon cards, several Hot Wheels cars, a pen, some cash, a half-dozen CDs, several keys on a ring, and what looked like a credit card.
He watched her rummage through the pile, wondering if he’d been wrong about something being hidden in the backpack. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Something of value. Jewels. A treasure map. Stolen plans. A microchip worth millions. He read too many mysteries.
She picked up the cash, counted out more than fifty dollars, then dropped the bills into the pile again. She sorted through the CDs, fingered the keys for a moment, then looked back at the boy.
Zack sat perfectly still, poleaxed with what appeared to be fear. What was he scared she’d find?
“What are the keys for?” she asked.
“My house,” he said, his voice small, barely a whisper. “And stuff.”
Will reached back to reassuringly squeeze the boy’s thin arm. “What’s your house like?”
Zack seemed torn between watching Samantha dig through his backpack and talking to Will.
“It’s little,” the boy said quietly. “But I have my own bedroom.”
Samantha picked up the credit card and studied it. She put it back down. He could see the name on it was Robert Walker. It didn’t belong to Al or Ralph, unless those weren’t their real names.
“Where did you get the credit card?” she asked Zack.
The kid shrugged. “Ralph.”
“And the cash?”
“Ralph.”
It was clear Ralph hadn’t given either to him.
Would Al and Ralph have tried to grab Zack again to get back fifty bucks? Will didn’t think so. He watched her sort through the rest of the items, making a stack of the CDs, several of which appeared to be computer games. Alien Attack by the Spider Planet. Weird World Warriors: The Final Battle.
She searched through everything, studying the Pokémon cards as if she expected them to be altered in some way. She even checked inside the empty candy and gum wrappers.
Will picked up the pen. It was from a Seattle bank. He unscrewed it and looked inside, immediately realizing he wouldn’t recognize a microchip if he saw one. He screwed the pen back together and handed it to Samantha.
She glanced at it, but didn’t appear to find anything of interest, either. He wondered if she’d know a microchip if she saw one.
“Zack.” She reached back to take his hand. “Those men took a heck of a chance trying to grab you in town like that. They seemed to want your backpack pretty badly.”
The kid said nothing, just looked at her with saucer eyes, unblinking.
“There has to be something they want in it,” she said. “Can you think of what it could be?”
He shook his head as if it were a mystery to him, as well.
Will doubted that. Samantha sighed and inspected the pack itself. Nothing hidden in the seams or lining. He studied the measly pile of possessions. Some pilfered. Most worth very little. Even the CDs looked well used. And yet the kid protected that pack as if it held his most prized possessions. Maybe it did.
Samantha put everything but the credit card and cash into the pack again and handed the backpack to the boy. “I’m sorry I had to look through your things, but I’m worried about you. I have to find out why those men are after us, so I can stop them.”
He nodded and took the pack, set it on the seat beside him and looked down at his lap. After a moment, he pulled his headphones back onto his ears. The music leaked out like faint noise. The kid seemed to zone out again, lost in his own world—a world that had become very dangerous for the little boy.
“His father let him play those violent computer games?” Will whispered to Samantha.
“His father probably designed those games. And I would imagine Zack has been playing them since before he could walk.”
“Could explain his burgeoning talent for crime,” Will grumbled. A thought struck him. “Could the kidnappers be after one of the games?”
“I thought of that. When we get to a computer, we’d better check them out. I don’t know anything about computer games. Do you?”
He shook his head, picking up on the fact she’d said “we’d” better check them out. He’d always thought computer games were a waste of time, but he didn’t bother to tell her that. She already thought he was stodgy enough, without his confirming it.
“I have a cousin near Seattle who’s into computers. We can show them to him. He might know something.” She looked over at him. “What?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking. The kidnappers had Zack and the backpack for a good day-and-a-half, right?”
She nodded.
“If there was something in the pack, they’d already have taken it, wouldn’t you think?”
“Unless they couldn’t find it, either,” she offered.
“Or unless they did take it, then Sticky Fingers back there swiped it—just like he did Ralph’s money and the credit card—after Al and Ralph had given him the backpack again. Otherwise, Ralph’s money and the credit card wouldn’t be in there, right?”
They both turned to look at Zack. He wa
s staring at them, his eyes wide and worried, not even pretending he wasn’t listening to their conversation.
* * *
ZACK WASN’T TALKING, though. Samantha’s attempts to get him to speak were met with monosyllables and shakes of his head. She didn’t force the issue, hoping that he’d eventually open up to her. Before it was too late.
She watched him for a moment in her rearview mirror. He’d dug his Hot Wheels out of his pack and now played some demolition derby kind of game on the seat, his headphones still emitting a song she was becoming a little too familiar with.
“Well, it’s a great theory, anyway,” she said to Will as she turned back to her driving.
He grinned. “See, having me along wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.”
She shot him a look. Was it possible he could look any more handsome? “I wouldn’t go that far. The kidnappers are still out there, and who knows how desperate they’ll get.”
“Yeah,” he said, and looked up the highway, his jaw set, all humor gone from his face.
She felt drawn to him suddenly in a way she couldn’t even explain.
She turned her attention to her driving. And her case. It scared her even to think how little she knew about any of this. She’d been running blind from the beginning. She had no hard facts about Lucas’s disappearance or the burglary, little knowledge of his and Zack’s lives over the past five years, and too many feelings about the people involved.
She’d leaped to the rescue without even stopping to consider the consequences—something she normally never did because it could get her killed. Nor did she know anything at all about the computer game business, if this had anything to do with Lucas’s work. It seemed likely, since Whiz Kidz had been broken into about the time of Lucas’s disappearance and Zack’s kidnapping. But she couldn’t be sure of that. Any more than she could be sure that Lucas had set this up as a way to get himself and Zack out of Seattle. There was just too much she didn’t know.
But she had Zack, she reminded herself. And in a few hours, she’d see Cassie and, she hoped, get some answers. What bothered her, though, was why Cassie was involved at all. After five years of being absent from Lucas’s and Zack’s lives, Cassie certainly seemed to know a lot about Lucas’s personal business and Zack’s problem with stealing. Cassie had been the one who’d warned her about Zack’s tendency toward theft.
