Colorado Abduction

by Cassie Miles

  That rescue—less than twenty-four hours from right now—would take place at the same time Logan’s men were meeting their contacts on the Indian Trail. At that location, he expected immediate surrender to a far superior force. There was nothing like a half dozen armed FBI agents and a chopper bearing down like a fierce, prehistoric beast to make a guy throw down his gun and beg for mercy.

  At his signal, his men moved across the open field. The heat-sensing camera showed no guards in this area outside the barbed wire surrounding the compound.

  They found the mound of earth that had been spotted by the chopper easily. Burke and Smith stood watch while the others dug. In less than five minutes, they had uncovered the remains of a small woman wrapped in a sheet.

  They zipped her into a body bag, and spent another five minutes replacing the dirt.

  They retreated across the field to the waiting vans.

  The operation went off without a single hitch. Apparently, Logan had more to worry about than guarding the grave of a woman who had been under his care.

  CAROLYN PACED IN HER BEDROOM, waiting for Burke to return. It was only ten o’clock but felt much later. After being cooped up in the house all afternoon, she yearned for action. But she had promised not to take any risks, which included standing at her bedroom window with the light behind her back, going onto the well-lit porch or—Heaven forbid!—going to the barn for a chat with Elvis.

  She touched the injury on her chest as a reminder that she was a target. Her bruise had turned a dark, aching purple and her arm was sore, but otherwise she was fine.

  Her pacing stopped in front of the trophy case, filled with dozens of blue ribbons and gold statuettes that she’d started collecting when she was eight. Life had been simple then. All she had to do was go to school, finish her chores and ride.

  Perhaps it was childish to keep the glass-and-wood trophy case in her room, but her father had built it with his own hands and presented it to her on her sixteenth birthday. He’d told her that she was a winner, and she’d worked her hardest to prove him right. She hadn’t displayed any of her second-or third-place awards because she needed to be number one—to make her father proud. The ultimate daddy’s girl. But what choice did I have after Mom left?

  Carolyn realized that she still hadn’t told her mother about the kidnapping. She needed to do that, but ten o’clock in Colorado was midnight in New York. Too late to call?

  But this was important—one of the few times in her life when she needed her mother’s advice. Not only about the kidnapping. She wanted to talk about Burke. Her feelings for him were a jagged chart of highs and lows. The way he needed to always be in charge—their constant competition—irked her. But when he touched her, she soared to a high that was unlike anything she’d felt before. Was it love?

  She needed her mother, and she needed to make that very private call on a phone that wasn’t tied to the system being monitored by Corelli.

  Leaving her bedroom, she went downstairs. In the dining room, Corelli—who never seemed to sleep—was still monitoring his computers. Dylan had zonked out in the easy chair. She didn’t want to wake her brother by talking to Corelli. Nor did she want Dylan to know that she was calling Mom.

  Instead, she went through the kitchen and out the back door where she sat on the step. With the Longbridge Security men and other patrolling cowboys around, she felt safe.

  The night chill soothed her. Finally, the weather was beginning to feel more like December. She zipped up her sweatshirt. When this ordeal was over, she’d need a vacation. Maybe she should spend Christmas in New York with Mom. All the decorated store windows were spectacular, and she’d love to see the giant tree in Rockefeller Center. Maybe Burke would come with her. They could get a room in a plush hotel, eat fabulous sushi or take in a play. Would he like theater? He’d been a cop in Chicago. He must be okay with big cities.

  She spotted someone heading toward the house. Even in the dim light of the cloud-covered moon, she recognized the bowlegged gait of Lucas Mann.

  She waved to him, and he ambled toward her.

  “It’s late,” she said. “What are you doing awake?”

  “Can’t sleep. That’s one of them things about being an old codger. You get up during the night.”

  She didn’t want to think he was sleepless because he was haunted by guilt or that he was awake because he was spying for Logan. “Do you ever think about retirement? Buying a little spread of your own?”

  “Matter of fact, I do. A quiet spot with a couple of horses.”

  Had Logan bribed him? Offered him enough cash to make his dream come true? “We’d hate to lose you.”

  “A man gets old.” His eyes were shaded and unreadable under his cowboy hat. “You know how people talk about a slippery slope? How you take one wrong step and the whole mountain slides out from under you?”

  What wrong step had he taken? “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  With a gloved hand, he patted her shoulder. “Don’t you worry none. Nicole’s coming back. Then everything’s going to get back to normal.”

  “I hope so.”

  He touched the brim of his hat and walked away. She cared about this old cowboy. He was like part of the family. But if he’d been involved in Nicole’s kidnapping, in any way, she could never forgive him.

  Before she could make her call, she heard vans pulling up at the front of the house. Burke was back. She rushed inside just as he came through the front door. In his full body armor, he was as impressive as an ancient warrior.

  “It’s done,” he said.

  “You found the body?”

  He gave a somber nod.

  In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping that the grave would be empty. Now there was evidence. One of the men in the SOF was a killer. That didn’t bode well for Nicole.

  She watched and listened while Burke debriefed Corelli and Dylan. At the same time, he peeled off his armor and returned to the shape of a mere mortal—a shape she found incredibly attractive.

  They moved on to discuss other plans. Tomorrow night was when everything was going down. In less than twenty-four hours, the ransom was due. And the SOF would be accepting their big delivery.

  Neither Carolyn nor Dylan would participate in the hostage rescue. Their job was to stay here by the phone, waiting for the kidnappers to call.

  The tactical support team circled the table. None of these men asked for her opinion, much less her approval of their plan. She’d become a tiny, insignificant speck of female energy, silently worrying that someone would be hurt, fearing for the safety of Nicole and the other SOF women. She remembered Lisa Ayers’s sad eyes. How would that delicate, waiflike creature deal with all of these rescuers? And what about Nicole, being held against her will? Carolyn wished with all her heart that there was another way to deal with the situation, but she knew Logan would never negotiate.

  She stepped away from the table. “Good night, boys. I’m going to bed.”

  “That’s the right idea,” Burke said. “We need to be rested. It’s all going down tomorrow night.”

  A deep rumble of masculine voices echoed his words. These were men at the edge of battle, fierce and determined. Unstoppable.

  She’d barely gotten into her bedroom when Burke slipped through the door. He caught hold of her hand and yanked her into his arms. His lips were hot. Her body responded to his urgent need as she kissed him back and drew his tongue into her mouth. His hands slid under her sweatshirt. His touch against her bare skin set off a chain reaction of desire.

  And yet she pulled away from him. “Wait a minute.”

  “Am I being too rough? Did I hurt your bruise?”

  “I’m not in pain,” she assured him. “I just wanted to have a say in what happens next.”

  He reached up and ran his fingers through her unbound hair. “Soft as silk,” he murmured.

  She’d had time today for washing and conditioning, even though it was difficult with her aching left arm.


  “Burke,” she snapped. “Pay attention.”

  “I’m listening.”

  All she wanted was to be heard. “Your tactical support team is even more overpowering than a roomful of cowboys.”

  “Adrenaline,” he said. “Our mission went off with precision. It’s a satisfying feeling, even though we were dealing with the tragedy of a murder.”

  “I felt invisible, and I hate that. It’s not normal for me. I’m accustomed to being in charge.”

  “I’ll make you a deal, Carolyn. In this room, you’re the boss. I’ll do anything you want.”

  His pseudonegotiation made her smile. “What if I tell you to hop on one leg and squawk like a chicken?”

  “That’s a little kinky.” He leaned close and nipped at her earlobe. “But I’ll do it. Whatever turns you on.”

  Her need for control was overwhelmed by a more powerful desire. She placed her cell phone on the bedside table. The call to her mom would have to wait.

  “I want you in my bed. All night.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  THE NEXT MORNING started much like the day before, except with fewer doubts. Carolyn glowed with a pleasant certainty. Burke was the best, most skillful lover she’d ever known. His passion took her to sensual places she’d never been before.

  For the moment, she didn’t mind not being the boss. She’d gotten out of bed, dressed and readied herself for the big day when the ransom would be paid and Nicole returned.

  In the kitchen, she was sipping Polly’s excellent coffee and had almost finished a plate of scrambled eggs and toast when Dylan joined her.

  “We got another tape,” he said.

  “Where did it come from?”

  “Just like yesterday, it was hanging on a fence post near the road. Whoever is dropping these tapes off is doing it before dawn and disappearing. Corelli says there’s no point in checking satellite surveillance. The mountains and trees make it impossible to identify the guy.”

  Taking her coffee, she followed him into the living room where Burke stood by the television. The sight of his big, muscular body gave her a warm feeling of possessiveness. My man. He’s my man. And she wouldn’t trade him in for a multimillion-dollar distribution contract.

  Corelli pushed a button, and Nicole’s image appeared on the television screen. She was wearing a different blouse—cotton with blue flowers. The same faded sheet hung behind her.

  “Monday morning,” she said. “It’s getting close to Christmas. I miss doing the decorating.”

  As she reached up and pushed her hair off her face, Carolyn noticed two things. This gesture wasn’t any sort of clue. And Nicole was wearing her wedding band on the wrong hand. This wasn’t a trick of videotape reversal. Carolyn knew the ring was on Nicole’s right hand because she wore her wristwatch on her right wrist.

  “Anyway,” Nicole said, “I want to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened. Still, there might be a silver lining. I’m always an optimist. Right, Dylan? Maybe this is all for the best.”

  When the screen went blank, Carolyn felt an ominous chill. There was something very different about Nicole. She looked the same as yesterday—clean and healthy. But her attitude had changed. And why change her wedding ring to her right hand? It was almost like she didn’t want to be married anymore.

  “All for the best,” Carolyn repeated Nicole’s words. “What does that mean?”

  Dylan’s face was pale. His hands drew into fists. “She’s an optimist. Always thinks things are going to be great, even when the odds are against it.”

  Was he talking about Nicole’s desire to have a baby? The struggle they’d gone through trying to get pregnant? “What does that mean to you?”

  “You know me, sis. I always look for problems, trying to anticipate what might go wrong.”

  “It sounds like Nicole is telling you to have hope. Tonight, we’ll pay the ransom. She’ll be back here where she belongs, hanging Christmas decorations and wrapping presents.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “But we still haven’t gotten a call from the kidnappers telling us where to deliver the ransom. We still don’t know where and how Nicole will be released. I see the glass as half-empty.”

  A lot could go wrong. They all knew it.

  The trick was to make it through today into tonight. The long hours stretched in front of her like an eternity.

  Carolyn went into the dining room and grabbed a cell phone that wasn’t connected to anything else. She pressed in a number that she knew by heart.

  When the phone was answered, Carolyn spoke four words that she’d never said before: “Mom? I need you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Burke hardly recognized Corelli without his tie and suit jacket. Wearing a bulletproof vest and a heavy jacket to ward off the night chill, the computer expert had positioned himself behind a bank of computer screens inside an FBI van. His job for the assault on the SOF compound would be communications.

  Burke squatted beside him, cramped by the small space inside the van. “You know, Corelli, I’m still not sure you should leave the ranch house.”

  “I trained Dylan on how to work the phones. He’s a smart guy. He can handle it.” For proof, Corelli touched a button on one of the monitors. “Dylan? How’s everything at the house?”

  “Quiet.” The answer came through, loud and clear.

  “Is Carolyn there?” Burke asked.

  “Hi, Burke. What’s up?”

  The sound of her voice made him want to turn around and go back to the ranch. He didn’t like leaving her and Dylan there with only the cowboys and Sheriff Trainer for protection.

  “We’re waiting,” he said. “It sounds like Logan and his boys are planning their meet on the Indian Trail any minute.”

  At this time of year, sundown came early. Right now, it was almost dark.

  “We’re waiting, too,” she said. “For the ransom delivery call. Corelli is going to keep us posted, right?”

  “Right,” Burke said. “The same goes for you and Dylan. Let us know about any calls.”

  “Burke.” She spoke his name softly. “Be careful. Please.”

  “Back at you.”

  He didn’t repeat his warning that neither she nor her brother should leave the ranch house to deliver the ransom until he’d returned. He’d said those words so many times today that they should be permanently etched on that highly intelligent brain of hers.

  She knew the risks. More importantly, she understood that a coordinated ransom delivery had a far greater likelihood of success than a half-baked effort from her and her brother.

  Bottom line, he hoped the ransom would never need to be paid. Once his force got inside the SOF compound and searched, he hoped to find Nicole. At this point, that hope was paper-thin. Though Nicole had twice signaled them that she was at the Circle M and Burke was relatively sure that Logan made the second ransom call to Carolyn’s phone, the kidnapping hadn’t been mentioned on the bug in Logan’s trailer office or in any e-mail correspondence.

  “They’re on the move,” Corelli said.

  Earlier today, three heat-sensing cameras had been placed at strategic locations to monitor activity inside the compound. One focused on the front gate. Another showed the western route that Burke and his men would use to enter the Circle M. A far-range scope showed the compound buildings, including Logan’s trailer and the bunkhouse where the women and children spent most of their time.

  Like the bugs and computers, these cameras showed no clue about Nicole’s whereabouts. She might be mingled with the other women. Or she might be somewhere else entirely.

  “Two trucks,” Corelli said. “Driving toward the front gate.”

  The greatest threat to their rescue operation came from Logan’s surveillance cameras. Very likely, he’d leave a man behind to monitor those cameras, which would show the approach of Burke and the seven men working with him.

  The first order of business—Burke’s job—was to pin d
own the man in the trailer so he couldn’t interfere with the hostage rescue.

  “Three men in each truck,” Corelli said.

  Burke did the math. Logan had told him there were thirteen men, counting himself. Tindall the sniper was already in custody. That made twelve.

  In his surveillance, Corelli had only seen ten. Either Logan had a couple of defections or the notorious twosome of Thurgood and Richter weren’t on the compound. They could be somewhere else, holding Nicole.

  Even though storming the SOF compound might not bring Nicole back, there were other reasons to close Logan down: the murder of Barbara Ayers and the smuggling network.

  Burke returned his focus to the screens in front of Corelli. There were thirteen men less Tindall, Thurgood, Richter and the six men in the trucks. “Only four men left at the Circle M,” Burke said.

  “Two at the gate. Two in the trailer, monitoring their surveillance cameras.” Corelli gave a short laugh. “They’re watching us watch them.”

  “Not for long.”

  Burke climbed out of the van and stretched. Even in body armor, he knew that he wasn’t invincible, but he liked his odds for getting through this operation without injury. He had seven men in body armor to deal with four cowboys.

  He activated the microphone that allowed him to communicate with the rest of his team. “Let’s do it.”

  WITH SHERIFF TRAINER and two deputies keeping watch on the porch, Carolyn was alone with her brother in the dining room. He’d taken Corelli’s position behind the computer monitors.

  After all the activity of the past few days, it seemed strangely quiet. She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. Might as well tell Dylan now and get it over with. “I talked to Mom.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this is a time when we need to reach out to family. She’ll be here tomorrow around noon.”