Matt

by R. C. Ryan

  He’d long ago stopped feeling his shoulder, where a bullet was lodged, radiating an all-consuming pain from the top of his head, down his spine to his toes. His body was now simply numb. But he couldn’t stop the thoughts that drove him nearly insane. Vanessa in the clutches of madmen. Men awaiting orders to kill her. Men who didn’t care about the pain they inflicted. Men who may have been given license to do whatever they wanted with her before disposing of her body.

  His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he closed his eyes against the thoughts and images torturing him. Because of his carelessness, he was reduced to this—chasing after shadows while the woman he loved was suffering.

  The woman he loved.

  Why hadn’t he said more when he’d had the chance? He’d begun to declare his love, and then, seeing Vanessa’s wide-eyed reaction, he’d backed off and left the cabin to chop wood and work off some of his restlessness. He’d believed it was too soon to shock her with so many personal feelings. And now he would live with that regret for a lifetime.

  He’d known. Maybe not at first. It had been perfectly normal to confuse lust with love. Vanessa Kettering was gorgeous, smart, funny. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be attracted? But long before he’d given in to his passion, he’d known it was so much more. And still he’d worked overtime to keep those feelings low-key.

  It was that damnable Malloy pride. Look at his uncle. Colin was forty, and still determined to remain a bachelor. He loved to boast that the woman wasn’t born who could tie him down. That same mantra had been adopted by all of them. But they’d all known it was a joke, used to cover up any deep feelings they had. They were all very good at repressing feelings. Of loss. Of pain. But love? Frank and Grace were perfect examples of the way love ought to be. And hadn’t his own parents been wildly in love?

  It was what he wanted. What they all wanted.

  Maybe that was why he’d wanted to soft-pedal his declaration of love. It was the most important emotion in the world, and it could be snatched away in an instant.

  What he wouldn’t give to be able to declare his undying love to his beautiful Nessa this very minute.

  Sweet Nessa. How she must be suffering.

  He’d asked his grandmother to pray.

  It would take a miracle to find where those monsters were hiding her in this vast tract of wilderness.

  Vanessa had put in the worst night of her life. Afraid. Alone. And plagued with horrible images of Matt, dead at the bottom of a ravine.

  She needed to get free. But she couldn’t imagine a scenario that would persuade these two to release her for even a few minutes. When she’d begged for a bathroom break before dark, the beefy, coarse one, Homer—whom she’d mentally nicknamed Bulk—had told her to soil herself, except he hadn’t used such proper terms. And once again the two men had enjoyed his little joke, laughing themselves silly.

  So what would persuade them to untie her?

  Throughout this endless night, she’d played with a dozen different ideas. Feigning sickness. Pretending to be unconscious. Nothing seemed compelling enough to work to her advantage. They didn’t care about her state of health. They had no reason to revive her if she fainted. She was already dead to them.

  Dead.

  It was so hard to concentrate when her mind always circled back to Matt. The thought of him, lying dead at the bottom of a ravine, his sweet, loving family grieving their loss, brought tears spilling down her face.

  Had the wranglers in the distant hills seen the pall of smoke? Had someone come to investigate? Had they made the descent into the fiery hell that had enveloped his body? Would they even be able to identify the truck or the burned body?

  Matt, her strong, fierce cowboy, his life cut short because of her. He didn’t deserve this. All he’d done was offer his ranch as a sanctuary until the threat of danger was gone. And now she would never see him again. Would never hear that deep, sexy voice. Would never feel those strong arms holding her as gently as though she were some delicate, fragile flower. Would never again know the fierce wonder of his love.

  The tears flowed until her throat was raw. She lay on the cold, hard ground of the cave and allowed herself to give in to a feeling of complete, absolute despair that settled over her like a dark cloud.

  Hawkface, as Vanessa thought of Jasper, the tall, muscled man who always rode in the backseat, woke from a drunken sleep and got to his feet, swaying wildly.

  His movements woke Homer, the driver, who aimed a fist into his middle, dropping him to his knees. “What’re you doing?”

  “Going out for a pizza.” Jasper wheezed out a pained breath before getting to his feet. “Whadda ya think I’m doing? I’m going out to pee.”

  “Watch out for rattlers.”

  That made Jasper stop in his tracks. “Do snakes come out before daylight?”

  “Who the hell knows? Just saying, there could be wolves or bears or all kinds of wild things in this place.”

  “It gives me the creeps. This whole wilderness thing creeps me out.” Jasper stopped just short of the cave entrance. “Maybe I’ll just take a whiz in here.”

  The driver swore. “Take it outside. I don’t want to have to smell it in here.”

  When Jasper hesitated, Vanessa’s mind went into overdrive. “Homer has my phone. If you turn it on, it’ll give you enough light to see what’s close by.”

  He reached out a hand to the driver. “Give it to me. I’m not taking any chances on stepping on a rattler.”

  A scant minute later he turned on the phone before stepping away from the cave.

  Watching, Vanessa sucked in a quick breath. Would her little trick work? She strained to peer in the predawn darkness, but could see little more than a thin, tiny circle of light, no bigger than the flare of a match.

  Minutes later the hawkfaced man returned and handed over her phone to the driver. “I saw something move in the bushes and it had me so spooked I pissed on my shoes. But at least there weren’t any bears or wolves.”

  “Good. Now shut up and let me get back to sleep.”

  Vanessa lay in the dark and wondered if anyone in Chicago had time to note that brief instant her phone had been engaged. Had it been on long enough to alert them of her location? Not likely. But it had been worth the effort, if only to lift her spirits.

  Now her mind was even more alert than ever. She knew she ought to grab some sleep while these two slept, but it was impossible. Her thoughts kept circling back to Matt. The sudden shocking sound of a gunshot, and then the sight of him, bloody and unconscious, behind the wheel of the truck as it went over the ravine.

  My fault, she thought fiercely. All my fault.

  If she hadn’t whined and complained about going to a safe house, he and his family would have never become involved in any of this. And right now he would be home with that big, rowdy family, ready to face another glorious day in his Montana paradise.

  Instead, because of her, he would never again work or play or laugh.

  Or love.

  The pain was sharp and swift.

  Like his parents, he was in the prime of life, and far too young to die. Unlike his parents, he left no children to carry on his legacy.

  Because she’d lost her mother at such a tender age, she knew only too well that death claimed the young as well as the old.

  There was no denying the fact that death was a harsh reality in her life. One that had left her and her father deeply affected.

  Her father.

  He would be inconsolable. Whatever the outcome of this trial, he would lose. And would pay the price for as long as he continued to live.

  She refused to let that happen. She struggled with the restraints at her wrists and ankles until her flesh was raw and bloody. Though she knew it was an impossible task, she had to try. There would be no superhero flying in to save her. She would have to save herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Luke parked his Harley on a flat plateau and walked to the edge, to stare a
t the surrounding hillsides below. All around him the land lay in darkness.

  He slipped his cell phone from his pocket and touched the number that connected him with the others.

  “I’m on Glacier Plateau. All’s quiet here.”

  Reed’s voice answered immediately. “Eagle’s Ridge here. Nothing moving.”

  Their uncle’s words were hushed. “Burke and I are at North Ridge, and we haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Matt? You there?”

  Matt’s voice was low, though whether in pain or anger, the others couldn’t tell. “I’m at the mouth of Glacier Creek. Plenty of caves and cliffs around here big enough to hide a vehicle or people, but no trace of any, so far. It’s still too dark to see what’s out here.”

  “You should head to town, Matt.” Colin chose his words carefully, knowing his nephew didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “Check into the clinic and have that bullet removed before the wound becomes infected.”

  Burke added, “Colin’s right, son. The doctor could pump you full of painkillers and antibiotics before you pick up the trail again in a couple of hours.”

  “I can’t leave. No time.” Matt’s words were clipped. “I have to—”

  At the sudden silence, the others held off the questions they were burning to ask.

  For what seemed an eternity, they waited.

  Finally Matt’s voice came back over the line. “I think I saw something.”

  “What?” Luke demanded.

  “I’m not sure. It looked like a small flicker of light in the darkness. Just a quick little flash, and then gone. If I would have blinked, I’d have missed it.”

  “A cigarette?” It was Reed’s voice.

  “Maybe. Maybe a lighter or match.” He breathed in the cold air. “So far I don’t smell smoke, but it’s too soon for the odor of cigarette smoke to drift this far.”

  “What direction did the light come from, son?” Burke’s voice had gone soft as a whisper.

  “North of here. Maybe a thousand yards. A quarter of a mile or so. I know it’s a long shot, but I have to check it out. Since it didn’t seem natural, it had to be man-made. I’ll go on foot. If it’s our kidnappers, they’d hear my truck’s engine.”

  The sheriff, plugged into their line, swore. “Matt, you need to wait—”

  Before anyone could say more, the line went dead.

  Matt tucked away his cell phone and snatched up his rifle before starting out in the direction he’d seen the light.

  Had it been a light? He was already beginning to question himself. His eyes and his mind could be playing tricks on him, because he wanted it so desperately. If DePietro’s thugs were nearby, they would naturally take every precaution to slip away undetected. Still, as eager as they would be to get back to their own comfort zone in the city, the thought that they were alone in this vast tract of wilderness may have caused them to become careless. He sincerely hoped so. He could feel his strength flagging with every hour that passed. In order to overpower two armed men, he would need both the element of surprise and an almost superhuman strength to take them both down without causing harm to Vanessa.

  Dear God. Vanessa.

  Just the thought of her at the mercy of those animals had his heart rate speeding up.

  Fear was an alien feeling for Matt. In his entire life, he’d always been fearless. But now there was a knot of it in the pit of his stomach. Not for himself. His life didn’t matter at this point. The fear was that he wouldn’t find Nessa in time. A terrible dread that he would fail her when she needed him most.

  As soon as Matt disconnected, the others held a hasty phone conference, deciding on the best course of action.

  Luke voiced his concern. “If Matt’s right, we need to be there as backup. I’m worried about how long he can hang on before he collapses.”

  “Exactly.” Reed said what the others were thinking. “There are two armed thugs, and only one wounded man standing between them and their goal to harm Vanessa.”

  “If they haven’t already killed her and disposed of the body,” Colin muttered.

  “They might need her alive for now,” Luke reminded them. “I’m thinking that if DePietro is found guilty, his ultimate revenge against the DA will be another video showing her pleading for her life before being killed.”

  “And what if Matt’s wrong?” Old Burke’s voice had them paying attention. “Right now we’re spread out across some miles, and there’s a good chance that one of us might spot them trying to get away, if not now, then as soon as it grows light.” He paused before adding, “If we miscalculate, boys, we could all be backing up Matt on a false alarm, while the bad guys make a clean getaway.”

  Eugene Graystoke’s gruff voice cut in. “Burke’s exactly right, boys. You need to stay where you are. I’ve just heard from the Chicago PD. Miss Kettering’s phone was engaged for a minute. They’re tracking the location now.”

  Luke was the first to respond. “I hear what you’re saying, Sheriff. But I trust Matt’s instincts. I’m not waiting for word from Chicago. I’m heading that way now.”

  Reed could be heard climbing aboard his ATV. “I agree with Luke. I’m on it.”

  Colin slapped Burke on the arm. “I agree with everything you said. But my gut tells me to go with Matt.”

  The old man gave a grim smile. “All right then. We’re all in. We win, or we lose everything.”

  They climbed into the ranch truck and turned toward the hills at the mouth of Glacier Creek.

  Before dawn the phone rang in the kitchen of the ranch house. Nelson, who had fallen asleep in his favorite chair, barely stirred. But Yancy, who had paced the floor between cups of coffee, snatched up the phone before it had a chance to ring again.

  “Yes?” His single word sounded like a growl in the silence of the room. He listened, then replaced the receiver.

  Nelson lifted his head. “Who called?”

  Frank and Grace, already dressed after a few hours of restless sleep, hurried into the kitchen in time to hear Yancy say, “Captain McBride in Chicago. There was a report of Nessa’s cell phone being engaged, but only for a minute. They waited for her to speak, but it went silent again.”

  Grace shared a look with her husband. “Is this good news or bad?”

  Frank shrugged. “It could mean she tried to make a call and couldn’t finish before her abductors stopped her. Or it could be nothing more than someone stepping or sitting on her phone for a moment before they realized what they’d done and moved it.”

  Grace touched a hand to Frank’s shoulder. “I’m going to hope it means that Nessa was reaching out to let her father and all of us know that she’s still alive.”

  “Hold on to that thought, Gracie Girl.” Frank turned to Yancy. “Load us up with some food and coffee, Yancy. By the time we finish eating, it will be light enough for us to get back in the air.”

  Streaks of dawn light painted the hills with pink and mauve ribbons. The air was still, and scented with the earthy fragrance of tiny shoots spearing up through the spring soil.

  Matt moved cautiously through clusters of trees, around boulders, his eye on the spot where he thought he’d seen that tiny spark of light. Had he simply imagined it, wanting so desperately to see something, anything, that might give him hope?

  It was too late to second-guess himself. Now that he was committed, he would move forward and check out the area.

  As he rounded a huge outcropping of rock, he stopped dead in his tracks.

  He spotted a cave that was almost completely hidden by a wild tangle of brush. If he’d been driving, he would have gone past it without even seeing it.

  Yet here it was. Big enough, from what he could judge, to park a vehicle inside. Tall enough for a man to stand in. Secluded enough for stashing a body that might never be found.

  He paused to listen. A sound. Low, rumbling, rhythmic. At first he struggled to identify the kind of machine that would make such a sound. But then, as he pressed closer to the opening of the
cave, it dawned on him.

  Snoring.

  He moved tentatively, one small step at a time, squinting to peer into the darkness of the cave.

  It was easy to spot the hulking shadows of the two men, chests rising and falling with each nasal sound.

  It took an agony of seconds before he spotted a smaller figure some distance from them.

  It had to be Vanessa.

  It took all Matt’s discipline to keep from rushing to her side. He ached to free her. To save her from her tormentors.

  He ached to hold her. Just to hold her.

  Instead he circled around the outside of the rock formation, careful to make no sound, until he was on the side of the entrance nearest Vanessa. With his ear pressed to the rock he heard the slight shuffling that told him she was alive.

  Alive.

  He looked around the entrance and saw her working on her restraints. Blood streamed from her wrists and ankles, where the plastic had cut through her flesh. The rope tied from her feet and wrapped around her neck had her neatly hog-tied, and probably blind with pain, yet here she was, still fighting.

  He dug out his knife and stepped inside the entrance, intent on freeing her.

  Her head came up and her eyes went wide before flooding with silent tears.

  He knelt in front of her, pressing a finger to her lips to keep her from crying out.

  In the hazy light of the cave he cut through her restraints and gathered her close.

  In that same instant he felt the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his head, freezing his hand in midmotion, as a voice broke through the silence.

  “Move a muscle, cowboy, and you’re dead.”