Familiar Showdown

by Caroline Burnes

  JOHNNY LAY ON HIS STOMACH on top of a ridge, Familiar at his side. Using the nightscope on his rifle, he’d finally gotten a bead on Stephanie as she trudged through the night. She was a good half mile ahead of him and moving fast. He considered firing a shot into the night to alert her, hoping she’d wait for him to catch up. But something told him not to do that.

  When a pair of headlights flared into life, silhouetting Stephanie, he was glad he hadn’t given away his position. He watched in fury and concern as the tall figure of a man he recognized as Plenty tackled Stephanie and held her to the ground.

  “Dammit, Familiar, they got her,” he whispered to the cat.

  Familiar was watching intently, and with far better night vision than he had. If the cat could talk, he’d probably be able to relay lots of detail.

  Johnny was helpless as he watched Plenty haul Stephanie to her feet and push her toward the vehicle. In a moment she disappeared into the passenger side of an SUV. The vehicle spun in a circle and took off to the north.

  Johnny rose to his feet, his hands clenched around the rifle and a semiautomatic pistol he’d gotten from his truck, along with a pair of night binoculars. There was nothing he could do. Stephanie was taken, and her life hung by the thinnest thread—the whim of Carlos Diego and what he decided to do with her.

  “Meow.” Familiar sounded as defeated as Johnny felt. There was no way Johnny could catch up with a motorized vehicle. His only recourse was to walk back to the ranch and hope that he could get either his or Stephanie’s truck running. That or head to Rupert Casper’s place.

  “Meow.” Familiar put his paws on Johnny’s leg. “Meow.” The cat nodded.

  “You vote that we head to Casper’s?”

  “Meow.” Familiar’s head moved up and down.

  “That’s as good as any plan I can come up with.” He hefted the weapons. “Casper’s is close, and he’ll probably have a working phone or at least a working vehicle. Let’s blaze a trail, my friend. If we don’t make it fast, Stephanie won’t live to see sunrise.”

  Johnny took his bearings from the stars. He had plenty of wilderness training, and he was in top physical condition. Navigating by the moon and stars, he set out at a ground-covering jog. Familiar was right at his side.

  OH, JOY, WHAT THE MILITARY likes to call a forced march. Once we rescue Miss Cowgirl, get Carlos Diego behind bars and see that Rory Sussex is alive to receive punishment for his sins, I’m going to lock myself in Eleanor’s library in Washington with Clotilde and we’re not going to let anyone in unless they’re carrying a tray of delicacies.

  Jogging through the frigid October night at the base of the Black Hills is not my idea of fun. I’m more the wine-and-cheese-party kind of sleuth. Maybe a locked-room mystery in a manor in England. Or, dare I say it, a cruise ship. There’s always plenty of food on a ship, and the boats are so big it isn’t like really being surrounded by water. And not too much exercise, either. Shuffleboard, drinking, eating, lounging in deck chairs, eating, reading—that sounds spectacular compared to what I’m doing now, which is running like a fool beside Johnny Kreel, cowboy-slash-secret agent man.

  Of course all of this whining is to try to keep my mind off what might be happening to Miss Cowgirl. That guy who caught her was pretty rough. He slammed her to the ground like a sack of potatoes. And I got the distinct impression that was only the beginning of what he meant to do to her.

  What possessed her to run off and leave Johnny and me? She had to know she was walking into danger. But she did it anyway. And my guess is she’s wearing those earrings and she knows they contain the microchip. If that’s the case, we don’t have a thing to bargain with to save her life.

  I don’t know what to do, but I can only hope that Johnny can raise some help from the other Omega team members. Right now we have to focus on getting to Rupert Casper’s ranch as fast as possible. After that…Well, we’ll jump those hurdles when we get to them.

  I wonder if Casper might have some sustenance for a cat. Doubtful, and even if his larder were filled with cans of Kitty Delight, he wouldn’t share them with me. Even if I starve to death, it will be worth it. Casper deserves much more than I gave him.

  But maybe, while Johnny is talking to him, I’ll explore his truck again. If his window is down, I’ll leave him a reminder of Familiar, Black Cat Detective.

  THE SUV HIT SEVERAL BUMPS, hard, and Stephanie felt as if she’d bounce her head on the liner. The man who drove didn’t bother glancing at her, but he kept his gun pointed at her. One rash move and he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her, and she knew it. He made it clear that she was beneath contempt. He’d captured her with no effort, and he certainly had no concern that she was a danger.

  He’d quickly taken the rifle and the Glock from her. Now she was unarmed—or so he thought. A passenger in a vehicle with a man she recognized as a professional killer.

  “What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

  He laughed. “When Carlos is done with you, anything I like.”

  She swallowed her fear. “You can’t hurt me, because I have something your boss wants.”

  “Oh, really?” he said. “What might that be?”

  “I’ll negotiate only with Carlos Diego.”

  He laughed again and cut the wheel sharply, causing her to bang her head on the passenger window. Stephanie stifled a cry and resolved to keep silent. This wasn’t a man she could convince of anything.

  Chances were that Diego would be no easier to trick. She’d come to a poker game with a pair of twos. The only thing left to do was to bluff. So that’s what she’d do.

  The man flicked his headlights, and in the distance another pair of headlights came on. Fear gripped her. They were driving into the enemy camp.

  JOHNNY KEPT UP A STEADY JOG. He’d covered a mile or more, and Rupert Casper’s ranch had to be close—if his navigation was correct. Familiar was beside him, running with the same determination and intensity. By cutting cross-country, he’d shaved off at least a mile, but as the minutes ticked by, he knew the danger for Stephanie was increasing exponentially.

  Far in the distance he thought he saw the glimmer of lights. Casper’s ranch. It had to be. The sight gave him a second wind and new strength in his legs.

  The rough terrain made it hard to go faster, but he notched up his speed. The cold air burned in his lungs, but he pushed on. If he could make contact with the head of Omega, Hance Bevins could send in air support. And more men. Whatever it took to save Stephanie and retrieve the information, which he now realized had been a microchip embedded in her earrings. Familiar had pointed that out to him.

  As he topped a small rise, he saw the lights of the Casper ranch. It wasn’t an illusion. The ranch was within sight. He turned on all the speed he had.

  THE SUV CAME TO A SLIDING HALT beside two other vehicles. Stephanie didn’t have a chance to do anything before her door was pulled open and she was dragged out and onto the ground. She didn’t cry out or make a sound. Begging for mercy wouldn’t do any good. She accepted that. And the last thing she wanted was for them to search her.

  The man who’d captured her came around the vehicle, leaned down and pulled her to her feet. He pushed her roughly ahead of him, almost causing her to fall as she tripped on the unstable terrain.

  “I have a present for you, Carlos,” the man said. He pushed her forward again.

  She regained her balance and stepped ahead of the man, determined to walk without being pushed. Headlights snapped on, blinding her for a moment. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a figure lying on the ground not twenty feet ahead of her. It took a moment for her to recognize Rory.

  He lay bound and unmoving. A tall, slender man dressed in a tailor-made suit stood over him.

  “Come to claim your fiancé?” the tall man said, his voice cultured and melodic with a Spanish accent.

  “Rory?” She walked toward the body on the ground, afraid that he was already dead. “Rory?”

  He mo
aned and tried to move, but his legs and hands were bound.

  “Did you know that your fiancé was a double-crossing traitor?” the tall man asked.

  “I don’t know anything,” Stephanie answered. “I don’t know why any of this is happening.” The earrings brushed against her cheek in a gust of wind and she was afraid for a moment that her expression would give her away.

  “That’s too bad,” the tall man said. “I was hoping you might have brought me what Rory stole from me.”

  “What did he steal?” Stephanie asked. “If you tell me, maybe I can help you find it.”

  Carlos Diego sighed loudly. “I don’t think so, Miss Ryan. That isn’t how I do business. You see, I’d hoped that you were coming to me in good faith. While you were hiking here, I told Rory that you had eluded that agent in your house and were going to deal with me directly. I told Rory that perhaps I would end his suffering swiftly if you brought me back my property. But if that isn’t the case, then I’m afraid Rory is going to die a slow and painful death.”

  Stephanie fought against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d made this trek knowing that Diego was a dangerous man, capable of anything. She’d decided to negotiate for Rory’s life. Now wasn’t the time to lose her nerve.

  “I want to help you,” she said. “I want to give you what you want. But I can’t unless I know what it is.”

  Diego stepped into the light where she could clearly see him. His features were classically handsome, but his eyes were like dark holes. “Maybe Rory will tell you what he took.”

  Rory’s only answer was a groan.

  “Plenty, perhaps you can make Rory tell his lovely fiancée what he took from me.”

  The big man who’d captured her walked over to Rory. He drew back his foot and kicked Rory in the stomach. The sound of the blow almost made Stephanie throw up.

  “Stop!” She rushed forward and dropped down beside Rory. In the glare of the headlights she could see the blood that had soaked the dirt beneath him. His face was bloodied and bruised where he’d been beaten. Why had she ever thought she could negotiate with men like these? She’d gravely underestimated Diego and his men.

  “Let Rory go and I’ll find whatever it is you want and give it to you.”

  Both men laughed. “I don’t think that sounds like much of a bargain for us, Miss Ryan.”

  “I won’t help you unless you let Rory go. He’s hurt. He needs a doctor.”

  “I can make it so he’s out of pain. Permanently,” Diego said, a dark edge in his voice. “Now give me the microchip. I know you must have brought it with you. You couldn’t be so naive as to come here without it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Rory never told me anything about his business. I thought he was a pilot, a charter pilot.” She was talking too fast, but she didn’t care. She had to keep talking. Maybe Johnny was out there. Maybe he’d actually come to the rescue. She had to give him time to reach her. She hadn’t walked into Diego’s camp totally unprepared, but she was outnumbered. She needed Johnny’s help. That was her only chance to escape alive and maybe even save Rory.

  “But now you know the truth, don’t you?” Carlos asked. “Johnny Kreel has told you about Rory, hasn’t he?”

  “Johnny told me that Rory wasn’t just a pilot.” She had to tread carefully. “He told me that Rory worked for you and that he took something that was yours. Johnny said you wouldn’t rest until you got it back.”

  “Is that all Johnny told you?” Diego asked.

  She nodded. “That’s all. He didn’t tell me anything else.”

  “And did Johnny search for this thing that Rory stole?”

  “He did. But he didn’t find it.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

  “I have no reason to lie, because I don’t know what you want. All I want is for you to leave me and my ranch alone. You burned my barn and you let a very expensive stallion loose. Running Horse Ranch is my livelihood. I’ll give you what’s yours, if you tell me what it is, and if you’ll promise to leave me alone.”

  “Well, of course,” Diego said, and in the headlights of the vehicle his smile looked like something on a cadaver. “I think we can reach a deal, Miss Ryan.”

  “Good,” she said. “Then cut Rory loose. He’s injured and can’t get away. There’s no need for him to be tied up.”

  Diego turned to the large man. “Plenty, cut Rory’s bonds. His fiancée is unhappy that he’s tied up.”

  “Certainly,” Plenty said. He brought a knife from a sheath at his belt. In two seconds the wicked blade sliced through the air. Rory screamed.

  Stephanie cried out, but her cry was drowned out in the laughter of the two men.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When his breathing was under control, Johnny moved stealthily to the front door of Rupert Casper’s ranch house. The place looked like something out of a movie set—a huge, rambling log cabin and a series of barns and out-buildings. From what Johnny could tell, the place was immaculately maintained.

  The bunkhouse was quiet, but someone was up in the main house. Johnny had to get closer to be sure who it was. He’d never bothered to ask Stephanie if Casper was married or single. It hadn’t seemed pertinent at the time. Now he wished he knew a bit more about the man.

  Johnny started closer to the house, and Familiar moved with him. The cat was like his shadow and, crazy as it seemed, Familiar gave him a sense of security.

  Moving around the house, Johnny went to the lighted window and peered inside. Casper sat at a burnished mahogany table with another man. The two were deep in conversation. For some reason, watching them gave Johnny a creeping sense of foreboding.

  But he had to use the telephone. He had to get a call in to Hance Bevins and get help for Stephanie.

  “Wait here,” he told Familiar. “Casper isn’t going to be happy to see me, but he’d shoot you after what you did to his truck.”

  “Meow.” Familiar’s answer was barely audible.

  When he started forward, the cat snagged him with a paw. Johnny could tell that Familiar, too, was having misgivings about approaching Rupert Casper for help. Something just wasn’t right. What was Casper doing conducting a business meeting at four in the morning? Casper was up to something, but Johnny didn’t have time to play around and determine what it was.

  He went to the front door and knocked loudly. A light came on in the bunkhouse and the front door opened. A cowboy, already dressed for the day, stepped onto the porch. He lit a cigarette and watched Johnny.

  Johnny knocked on the entry to the main house again.

  The door finally opened, and Rupert Casper didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “Trouble at Running Horse?” he asked.

  “Do you have a landline for your phone?” Johnny asked. “We’ve got some reception problems and I need to make an important call.”

  “Must be an emergency to come over at four in the morning,” Casper said. His tone was friendly, a fact that made Johnny even more suspicious. Had a neighbor shown up to use a phone at 4:00 a.m., Johnny would have suspected an emergency, but he would have been concerned rather than amused. Not Rupert Casper. In fact, he seemed pleased.

  “If I could borrow your phone, I’ll be on my way.” Johnny had no intention of telling him anything.

  “I’m sorry. No landlines in this area. Not populated enough to warrant any,” Casper said. He used his thumb and forefinger to rub his chin. “No cell reception, either. Around here it’s unreliable at best. Sorry I can’t help.” He started to shut the door but stopped. “How’s Black Jack doing? This trouble doesn’t involve him, does it? I warned Miss Ryan that he was dangerous. If she’s hurt, it’s her own fault.”

  Johnny wanted to punch him in the face. It was clear that Casper knew there was some kind of trouble at Running Horse, and he was gloating over it. But why? What did he stand to gain from misfortune at Stephanie’s ranch?

  “Could I borrow a vehicle? I need to drive where I c
an get phone service. I’ll bring it right back.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Kreel. My vehicles are down, too. Damnedest thing, wouldn’t you say?” Rupert Casper smiled. He softly closed the door.

  It took a moment for Johnny to accept that Casper was such a lowlife that he’d deliberately turn his back on a neighbor in trouble. But that’s exactly what he’d done. And he’d done it with a smile on his face.

  Johnny stepped off the porch and into the thin moonlight. He could kick the door down, punch Casper out, try the phone or find some keys, but he’d never get away when the cowboys and staff on the ranch came after him. That would do Stephanie no good. He couldn’t allow himself to imagine what was happening to her.

  Over at the bunkhouse the cowboy on the porch tossed his cigarette to the ground and stepped out to crush it in the dirt. “Hey,” he called softly.

  Desperate, Johnny walked over. “I need to make a phone call,” he said.

  “You’re the guy helping Ms. Ryan, aren’t you?”

  Johnny’s fists clenched. “What of it?”

  “I’m Jasper Platt. I hear Casper’s got a burn on bad for the two of you. I heard him talking to the guy who keeps coming by here about how much he wants to take you both down a notch.” The cowboy made a sound of amusement. “Whatever you did to him, it stuck in his craw. He hates the two of you.”

  Immediately, Johnny understood that the man standing in front of him loathed Rupert Casper as much as he did. “Jasper, I don’t think much of a man who beats a horse to the point that he turns rank and develops an uncontrollable fear of humans.”

  “Yeah, I heard what he did to Black Jack. Too bad the horse didn’t kill him. Casper’s a self-righteous badass.” The cowboy shook out another smoke. “I’d lend you a truck, but I don’t have one. But I do have a fine mare. You can ride her about two miles east and get perfect cell reception. Make your call and bring her back.”

  Johnny grasped the man’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, anybody who gets under Casper’s skin like you did must have some good in him.”