by Rita Herron
Miles ended the call, his heart drumming as he sped up again.
If Dugan or this Ables man had hurt Timmy, he’d forget jail. He’d kill the bastard and put him in the ground himself.
* * *
JORDAN’S HEART SPUTTERED as Dugan gripped her neck tighter. She’d heard her cell phone ringing a minute ago. It was probably Miles checking in.
She had to stall. If she didn’t answer, he’d send someone to check on them. Struggling for courage, she tried to sound calm. Reason with the man. “There’s no reason to hurt that little boy, Dugan.”
“Aah, so you do know my name.”
“Yes, and you’re taking a terrible chance being here, especially if you’re innocent like you say. Or have you decided to confess?”
“Now, why would I want to do a stupid thing like that when I’m innocent?” Dugan murmured against her ear.
“You like to hurt women,” Jordan said, her voice hoarse from the way his hand was cutting off her windpipe.
“Women come on to me,” Dugan said with a brittle laugh. “Can I help it if I’m charming?”
“A charming, innocent man wouldn’t be holding me hostage right now,” Jordan quipped. “Or threatening to hurt a five-year-old little boy.”
He jerked her around to face him, his eyes wild. Jordan had seen pictures of him in his slick suits, his manicured nails, his polished expressions, and wondered if he had been innocent or guilty. If the police could have been wrong.
But the dark, sinister glint in his eyes indicated he was every bit the cunning, methodical sociopath Miles had painted him to be.
The sound of a horse echoed in the night, and Jordan froze, praying it was Miles. Then again, if he approached them, Dugan might kill him.
Dugan must have heard the horse too, because he dragged her back into the shadows of a tree and tightened his hold.
“You might as well give it up, Dugan,” Jordan said, fighting panic. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“Oh, I have plans,” he said in that same low murmur. “Plans for you and the boy. And nobody is getting in my way.”
The horse slowed, and Jordan squinted to see who was climbing off.
Not Miles, but Wes Lee, one of the other security guards. Miles must have asked him to check things out.
“Haddock,” Lee called as he strode toward the campsite. “Where are you? Brody called and said Miles has been calling you and Jordan.”
Jordan tried to warn him. “Watch out—”
Dugan slammed his fist against her head, and she sank to the ground. A second later, a shot rang out.
Tears and blood trickled into her eyes as she tried to lift herself up to fight back. Then Lee collapsed onto the ground, and she choked back a scream.
Lee was shot. Maybe dead.
God help her. She had to figure out a way to save Timmy and the other boys herself.
She struggled to stand up, but her head spun, then Dugan punched her again. She staggered, gasping for a breath, so dizzy she felt sick. Before she could recover, he yanked her arms behind her and tied them together, then shoved her up against the tree.
He’d said he had plans for her and Timmy.
He had tortured and raped the other women he was accused of killing before he’d viciously slashed their throats.
Was that what he had planned for her?
And after he killed her, would he kill Timmy, too?
Chapter Eleven
Jordan swallowed back her fear. She would not let this man get inside her head. He thrived on terrorizing women, so showing him she wasn’t afraid was the only way to win.
The night sky twirled sickeningly as he strode over to Lee, kicked his gun away, then checked her phone.
A cry caught in her throat as he scrolled down her caller log. He was going to let Miles know he was here. That he had her.
Because more than anything the madman wanted Miles to suffer.
She struggled with her bindings, determined to free herself and protect the kids, but Dugan turned, his eyes boring into hers, and she stilled. She had to play this smart.
Get inside his head instead of letting him intimidate her. She didn’t have his physical strength, but she could use her skills to talk to him, maybe convince him that hurting Timmy wasn’t the answer.
After all, he was deviating from his pattern. Dugan killed women for the pleasure of it. Probably because of something that had happened in his past.
But killing children wasn’t part of his M.O.
The situation had changed, she reminded herself. Timmy had witnessed his mother’s murder. That detail differed from the other murders. There had been no witnesses. No kids around.
No one left behind to identify him.
Although by coming after Timmy, Dugan only made himself look guilty. And who knew if Timmy would ever remember or be able to testify...
Something had triggered Dugan to veer from his usual methodical, cunning, well-planned attacks, to escalate enough to take chances. Which meant he was out of control.
And even more dangerous.
She shifted, working the ropes binding her against a rock. The stone jabbed her fingers, scraped at her skin, and she felt a drop of blood roll down her palm. Dugan twisted to watch her, and she forced herself to be still.
She needed to keep him talking. Stalling might give Miles and Brody enough time to devise a rescue plan.
But in spite of her bravado, Dugan strode over, knelt beside her and waved a knife in front of her face as he punched in a phone number. Fear crawled through her.
If he was out of control, he might kill them all, and she couldn’t stop him.
* * *
MILES WAS SWEATING BULLETS by the time they made it back to the BBL. Just as he swerved into the drive to the main ranch house, his cell phone trilled.
Miles flipped it to check the caller ID, his heart pounding when he spotted Jordan’s name. Dammit. Maybe he’d panicked for nothing.
But the moment he connected the call, a bad feeling pinched his gut. It wasn’t Jordan’s voice, but a low breathing.
“Jordan?” Miles said. “Are you there?”
“Oh, she’s here.” A sinister laugh echoed back. A voice he recognized as Dugan.
He closed his eyes and gripped the seat edge, grappling for control and praying at the same time. “If you hurt her or my little boy, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Another laugh, loud and long this time. “Careful now. You are a man of the law, McGregor.”
Mason was looking his way, his brows raised in question.
Miles jumped from the Jeep and paced back and forth. “I don’t give a damn about the law right now.”
“But you do want your son back, don’t you?” Dugan asked.
Miles motioned for Mason to park at the house. He’d get Brody and the others and they’d surround the ranch if they needed to. “Let me talk to Timmy,” Miles snapped.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
Miles’s heart stopped. No... “What?”
Dugan laughed coyly. “The kid is sleeping, but guess who I have right beside me?”
“Miles,” Jordan yelled. “He killed Haddock—”
Her voice was cut off as a loud smack echoed over the line. Miles’s blood ran cold as he realized Dugan had hit Jordan.
What else had he done to her? What else would he do?
His stomach knotted.
“You son of a bitch,” Miles growled. “Let Jordan and the kids go. It’s me you want, not them.”
“Aah, but I have you now,” Dugan said smugly.
The sadistic bastard. “Come on, Dugan. You don’t hurt kids, that’s not what you enjoy.”
“I’m enjoying myself now.”
Miles silently cursed. Yeah, Dugan was having fun. He wanted him squirming. Worrying. Terrified.
And he was right—the best way to accomplish that was to threaten Timmy.
“You won’t get off this ranch alive,” Miles said.
“I promise you that.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Detective. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I will keep this one,” Miles said through gritted teeth.
“I’m sure you promised your son’s mama you’d take care of her, too. And little Timmy here, I bet you told him the same thing.” He paused, his voice almost singsongy as if he was playing a game. “And look how that worked out.”
Miles opened his mouth to try to reason with the bastard, but the phone clicked dead. He cursed and slammed it against his leg.
“What did he say?” Mason asked.
“He killed Haddock, and he has Jordan and Timmy.”
“Hell.”
Miles called Brody to fill him in. “Dugan’s on the ranch,” he told Brody. “He killed Haddock, and he has Jordan and Timmy’s group.”
Brody released a string of expletives. “What about Wes Lee? I sent him out to check on them.”
“I don’t know,” Miles said, although his gut told him Lee was probably dead as well. Dugan was definitely demented. He didn’t care who knew he was guilty. His focus was to torture Miles, and he was killing anyone who got in his way.
Timmy’s sweet little face flashed in his mind. No...he couldn’t lose him.
Maybe Jordan could save him...keep Dugan occupied until they could corner him.
But terror and doubt still nagged at him. But what if he killed her first?
She had done nothing wrong. Nothing except help Timmy.
And now she might end up dead like Marie because of it.
* * *
JORDAN BREATHED THROUGH the panic eating at her. She had to stay calm. Climb into Dugan’s head.
He stowed the knife but waved his gun at her. “Get the kids up. We need to move.”
“What are you talking about?” Jordan asked. “They’re sleeping.”
His eyes turned wild. “We’re too out in the open here.” He shoved the gun at her side. “Now move it.”
Jordan winced as he gripped her arm, forced her to stand and shoved her forward. She staggered and stumbled over a rock, and he cursed.
“Don’t even think about running.” The barrel of his weapon dug into her side. “If you do, I’ll kill one of the boys.”
Jordan bit her tongue to suppress a gasp, then faced him with her chin held high. “I’m not running, but I can’t walk straight with you shoving me around. If you want me to move the boys, let me do it my way or you’ll have some hysterical, angry kids on your hands, and that could mean trouble for all of us.”
His sinister gaze met hers, and she could have sworn she saw admiration flicker in his eyes. “All right, but I’m warning you. I will punish you if you disobey me.”
“Is that what your mother did to you?” Jordan asked.
His lips thinned, all charm fading from his fake smiles. “Don’t talk to me about my mother.”
A small sense of victory niggled at her. Maybe she’d hit on the crux of Dugan’s problem. If so, she could use that information to reach him.
“Listen to me,” Jordan said. “I want to see everyone leave this situation safely. Especially these innocent children.” She released a pent-up breath. “So if you stay calm and don’t hurt them, I’ll help you figure out a way to escape before the cops come.” She looked him square in the eye. “Because you know they will eventually catch up with you, and then you’re going to wind up back in jail or...dead yourself.”
He gripped her arm so tightly pain shot up her arm. “Don’t threaten me—”
“I’m not,” Jordan said quietly. “But I don’t believe you want to hurt these boys. You may not like women, but think about it. These kids are just like you were when you were little. They’re young and they’ve already had a boatload of trouble and bad people in their lives. You don’t want to add to that.”
He cursed and released her arm so viciously she stumbled again. “Stop talking and get them moving. Now.”
“Untie me first so they don’t freak out when they see me.”
He studied her for a long minute, then gave a clipped nod. “But remember. If you try anything, I’ll shoot one of them.”
Jordan gave him a short nod, then made her way to the two counselors first. She gently nudged Justin awake, then kept her voice low. “Justin, we have a problem. That man Miles was worried about is here and he has a gun.” Justin looked up at her in a sleepy haze, but worry creased his forehead as her words registered.
“He—”
“Yes, he’s armed,” she said quietly. “But I don’t want to frighten the boys. So help me wake them.” She took his hand and helped him stand, carefully planting herself between him and Dugan in case Dugan decided to fire. “Just tell the boys that a storm is coming, to grab their sleeping bags, and we’ll walk to the barn and spend the night there.”
Maybe it would be better if they were contained. Then Brody and Miles could find them and...then what? Surround the barn? Try to talk Dugan down?
Offer him a way out?
She didn’t understand the man’s behavior now, but she couldn’t chance setting him off by making him mad either. She had to play along until she could delve deeper and figure out a way to convince him to release the children.
Justin cut a frightened look toward Dugan, then stepped over to wake Carlos. The moment Carlos realized what was happening, he glanced at Dugan as if he wanted to kill him.
Carlos had anger issues himself. God, the possibilities of this situation exploding had worsened.
Dugan eased up and pressed the gun to her back again. “Stop wasting time.”
“I’m not, but I don’t want to upset the kids,” she said evenly. Carlos gave her a questioning look, but she forced calm into her voice that belied the fear seeping through her.
“Please help us, Carlos.”
His eyes veered across the area toward the woods as if he wanted to run for help but she shot him a warning look. “Just stay calm and do what I say.”
He finally nodded, then he and Justin woke the boys one by one. Slowly they roused, all sleepy and confused, but Jordan explained that a storm was brewing so they were going to take shelter in the nearest barn. A couple of the guys protested, but she assured them they would still be camping out.
Then Timmy stirred and saw Dugan, and terror seized his little face.
Jordan stooped to pull him into her arms. “It’s okay, Timmy, I’m here.”
A guttural sound tore from his throat, and Jordan realized that he recognized Dugan.
* * *
MILES REMOVED HIS GUN and checked his pocket for extra ammunition, then circled the front of the Jeep to the driver’s side.
Mason folded his arms. “What are you going to do?”
“Kill that SOB.”
Mason stepped in front of him, blocking him from getting in the SUV. “Just hold on a damn minute and let’s think this through,” Mason said. “We have a hostage situation. We should call for backup, at least alert the local sheriff of the situation.”
“There’s no time.”
“What about the other kids on the ranch? If things go bad or if Dugan’s accomplice is here, they’re in danger, too.”
Panic swam in Miles’s mind, images of Timmy and Jordan being murdered tormenting him. But Mason was right; there were other kids with Jordan.
Plus all the other campers on the BBL.
Brody raced up in his truck and screeched to a stop. When he climbed out, he looked harried. “I got here as fast as I could. Any more news?”
“We were just discussing a strategy,” Mason said.
Brody pulled at his chin. “I called the sheriff and informed him that we have trouble.”
Miles threw his hands up in the air. “Dammit, if cops swarm, Dugan may panic and start shooting.”
“I’ll handle the sheriff,” Brody said. “But we need men here to clear the other campers while we deal with the hostage situation.”
“We should call in a negotiator,” Mason suggested.
&nbs
p; “Let me deal with him,” Miles said. “I’m the one he wants.”
Mason and Brody exchanged worried looks. “I called Wes Lee,” Brody said, “but he’s not answering his phone. I’m afraid we may have lost him, too.”
Miles chewed the inside of his cheek. “I say we ride out to the camp and find out.”
Mason quirked his mouth to the side. “We’ll need to go in quietly.”
Miles nodded. “Let’s saddle some horses and ride to the creek on the other side of the campsite. Then we’ll move in on foot.”
Brody and Mason both agreed. “I’ll send Cook with you,” Brody offered.
“No, have him help you and the sheriff round up all the other kids and workers and corral them into the dining hall. We can protect them better if they’re contained.”
Brody adjusted his hat. “Good idea.” He stepped onto the porch to phone Cook and wait for the sheriff, and Mason and Miles headed toward the stable.
They saddled horses in record time, then both mounted their rides, their weapons by their sides. Miles knew the ranch layout better and led the way, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble.
Every night sound, crack of a tree limb, coyote’s cry made his heart pound harder. It was less than a mile to the west side of the creek, where he brought his horse to a stop and climbed off. Mason followed, the two of them tying their mounts to a nearby post and crossing through the woods, then along the bank until they reached the most shallow part of the creek.
Miles pushed aside a patch of weeds and studied the area, listening for sounds of the kids, for Jordan, anything to verify they were still there and alive.
But it was so dark he could only make out the lingering smoke curling toward the sky from the earlier campfire. He motioned Mason to follow and stay alert, then crept through the woods and started across the creek.
The woods seemed unusually quiet for the danger that he knew waited, alarming him more. And as he pushed through the shallow water and eased onto the embankment, he scanned the area around the fire.
Mason searched the edge of the woods. “I found Haddock. He didn’t make it.”
Dammit. Miles spotted Wes Lee and hurried over to where he lay in the dirt. He knelt and checked his pulse. “He’s still breathing.”
