by Lynde Lakes
“Not hungry,” he snapped. “I want to bring you up to date on what’s going on.” He gestured to the couch. His words were all business, but there was a longing in his eyes. He still wanted her—and hated himself for it.
When she sat down, he joined her without getting too close.
“It sounds serious.” She welcomed whatever he had to say. They had talked so little since the kidnapping. She was hungry for any sharing, and exchanging information was better than nothing.
“We have more now than the sketchy descriptions of the false medic and the tall woman with high cheek bones and long legs,” he said in a husky voice. “The same day Alicia disappeared so did two of Buck’s new hires.”
“Do you know who they are?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. It would help if he would put his arms around her…if only for a moment.
“We’ve got photos of both men, but the application data was false. The FBI lab lifted a partial print from one of the forms. With the print and picture, the Feds identified Pedro Montoya, a suspected hit man from the Nevada area.”
Amber swallowed. “A hit man?” A hit man had their Alicia!
“Yeah. Feds got an APB out on him. The Vegas police are preparing a list of his known associates. I flew to Vegas, hoping to uncover something the police had overlooked. But I ended up chasing my tail.”
“Maybe if you’d taken me with you…”
Tightly controlled anger simmered in his probing stare. After a moment of heart stopping silence, he said in a tired voice, “I need you here. I thought if you knew the Feds had a positive ID on Montoya it might give you some hope.”
She met his gaze. “Thank you for that.”
He rose and grabbed his Stetson off the hook. “I gotta go now. But I want you to know I don’t blame you for any of this. When I shot my mouth off, it wasn’t me. It was a man crazed with worry.”
She nodded. The ache in her throat kept her from speaking. As he left, he touched her shoulder so lightly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. She bit her lower lip, fighting tears. She didn’t believe for a moment that Luke didn’t blame her. He had avoided her like the plague. Still, she appreciated he had tried to make her feel better. He was a good, caring man who didn’t deserve this agony. If they didn’t get Alicia back, it would destroy him. And her, as well. No! She wouldn’t think of failure.
The phone jangled loudly. As she curled her fingers around the receiver, the ringing stopped. She withdrew her hand and looked at the receiver. Some sixth sense told her it was going to ring again. When it did, Amber grabbed the receiver. Let this be the lead that brings Alicia’s home. No one responded to her hello. The line was open—the breathing at the other end even. “What do you want?” she asked, trying to hold her voice steady. Matt had installed tracing devices on the phones. No matter how much she wanted to slam the receiver down, she had to keep the line open as long as possible.
Finally, a low voice said, “You.”
****
Rational deductions and a quickness to react to every lead failed to bring Luke any closer to finding his daughter. He hated the kidnappers’ waiting game. He had expected a demand for the journal, or ransom by now. Hell, they could have whatever they wanted. As far as the journal was concerned, copies were already in the hands of authorities, and as soon as the FBI unraveled the underlying plot, they would round up the players.
He had seen Amber trembling before and wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he feared if he let his guard down, he would fall to pieces. It had been hard enough to back away the one time he had dared to hold her. He wanted to share their sorrow, but couldn’t. What kind of man was he to hunger for comfort while his daughter was in danger?
To sidestep trouble, he had avoided talking to Amber as much as possible. He had wanted to take her with him to Vegas, but with the tempestuous risk of spending a night in a Vegas hotel together, and the very deadly danger of exposing her to a possible hit, he couldn’t chance it. It gave him peace of mind to know she was safe with his family.
****
Amber wasn’t sure she could saddle a horse herself, but she’d seen Luke do it. Please, let me be a quick study. With effort, she had gathered what she needed from the tack room. After bribing Firebrand with a few sugar cubes, Amber threw a pad and blanket onto the horse, then standing on an upside down bucket, she struggled to get the saddle in place. Her hands shook as she hooked the stirrups on the horn and buckled the cinch. “Be a good horse and let me ride you, okay?” she said, speaking softly and patting the quarter horse’s neck. Firebrand licked his lips, and his ears swiveled back at the sound of her voice. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Amber said to keep her spirits up.
The man on the phone had said to ride out toward Verde Creek and a helicopter would meet her somewhere between the ranch and the creek. She was to come alone. If she failed to come, or brought anyone with her, or if anyone followed her, he would kill Alicia. But if she cooperated and gave him the journal, he would give her Alicia.
Amber didn’t believe him, but if they wanted her dead they would already have killed her. Besides, this was the first real break toward getting Alicia back, and she had to play it out. She slipped the journal and her loaded gun into a saddlebag along with a canteen of water. Next, she looped a lasso over her saddle horn. This was crazy. She was riding into the unknown like a lamb to the slaughter. But who else could save Alicia? Was she thinking right? With the up and down emotions she had fought since the day she’d woke up next to the dead body, she didn’t know. But with Alicia’s life in the balance, what choice did she have?
Amber jammed her Stetson low on her forehead. She drew the horse close to the side of the stall and climbed the fence to mount. She grabbed the saddle horn, leaned forward and threw her leg over, and heard the groan of leather as she slid into the saddle with ease.
Several stalls down, Amber heard a high-pitched whinny. She let out a small yelp when Firebrand shifted and danced a sidestepping jig. It was ridiculous. She was as frightened of the horse as the men she was going to meet. But she had to do this. “Please Firebrand, this ride’s important. Maybe the most important ride I’ll ever make.”
As though he understood, he calmed down and stopped moving nervously beneath her. Thank you, Lord. She squeezed lightly with her legs to urge him forward out the open barn door. The late afternoon sun slanted rays across the compound, toasting the buildings with a brilliant bronze glaze.
Roberto was heading for one of the corrals. She passed a vaquero walking his horse toward the barn. He tipped his straw hat. She returned the courtesy, hoping she would get away before Matt or Luke showed up.
****
Luke was on his way to meet with the sheriff when his cell phone rang. It was Molly. “Amber left the house without telling anyone she was leaving,” she said. “She’s never done that before. Something’s up. Mama Virginia told me Amber left right after she got a phone call.”
All calls were taped, Luke thought, so he could find out straight away if the two things were connected. “I’ll be right there. Call Matt and the sheriff. I was supposed to meet them in the barn office. Tell them to come to your place instead.”
Within ten minutes, the three men, Molly, and Virginia had gathered in the living room. With a grim face, Matt played the phone tape that had sent Amber racing out the door. A man claiming to have Alicia told Amber to bring the journal and ride toward Verde Creek. He would meet her along the way and make the exchange. Then, he said in a deadly low voice, “If you tell anyone about this call, or if anyone follows you, I’ll kill Alicia.”
Chapter Twelve
Several miles outside the ranch compound, Firebrand settled into a smooth gait, his muscles working easily beneath his sand-colored coat, his mane ruffling in the hot, sultry breeze. Amber shaded her aching eyes from the late afternoon sun. Where along the path would the killer show himself? He’d said a helicopter would set down somewhere between the ranch and Verde Creek. A
mber looked up into the cloudless blue sky and listened for the whir of rotating propellers, but there was only the soft hum of the breeze. She was still too close to the ranch. The killer would probably wait until she had put more distance between herself and help.
Firebrand nickered softly, and his ears perked as though he’d heard something. To calm herself, Amber inhaled air heavy with the scent of mesquite and focused on the path winding through flat land, covered with scrub oak and cactus, hoping she remembered the way to Verde Creek. The distant haze of rocky, purple mountains and wide, arid landscape emphasized how small and vulnerable she was. Knowing she was about to meet with a killer made the barren land seem even more hostile, more separate from the ranch and the rest of the world. The serene scattering of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush did nothing to stem her rising fear.
She heard a whinny. Her neck prickled. Was one of the kidnappers already nearby watching her? There were plenty of places along the way for someone to hide. Oh my God! It hit her with a crushing blow. As long as she stayed on the path, she was as exposed as a turtle without its shell. Well, there was nothing she could do about that—she didn’t know the area well enough to deviate from the route.
Amber’s heart pounded in hard thuds. What if someone rode out this way and the kidnappers thought the person was with her? Amber’s mouth went as dry as dust. God, she’d acted with her heart, not her brain. She hadn’t stopped to think this through. She prayed her actions wouldn’t lead Luke into danger, too. No, he should be safe. Matt had bugged the phone, but unless he had a specific reason, he wouldn’t check it until tomorrow morning. He usually listened to the tape after his morning coffee. That meant Luke wouldn’t know where she’d gone until tomorrow. By then, good outcome or bad, this should be over. The sad part was, he would go to bed thinking she had deserted him when he needed her most. She would never do that. Not while Alicia was missing, but after her failure to protect his daughter, his opinion of her would be lower than bog slime.
Amber pulled her Stetson low on her forehead. She needed a plan, but how could she anticipate the unknown? Her loaded gun was hidden in the saddlebag—not at all handy in case she needed it. She didn’t want to advertise she was armed. She glanced down at her rope looped over her saddle horn. She had gotten good at lassoing fixed objects like posts, but she still had trouble with moving targets.
What was she thinking? None of that mattered. Elmer had been a strong giant of a man and the killer had taken him down. Was that high-pitched howl merely the wind, or a child sobbing? Alicia, I’m coming.
She couldn’t think of failure. Somehow she would find a way to rescue Alicia—and a way to survive. Exchanging the reins from one hand to the other, she wiped her damp hands on her jeans. Endless Cave, the halfway point between the ranch house and Verde Creek, had to be coming up soon.
God, she hated caves. She winced at a flash of memory. She was about four years old. The family had traveled to Southern California to see her aunt Hazel. They had hiked into the foothills that bordered the north line of San Bernardino. When they had stopped for a picnic, she followed her new puppy, Nosy, as he sniffed about. He romped ahead up a small incline and disappeared into a dark cave, which she later learned was the entrance to an old mine shaft. Amber broke out in a sweat as she relived the horror:
She took an unsure step forward, calling her puppy’s name. The ground gave way. She screamed as she fell into a pit of blackness. When she hit bottom, a sharp pain cut through her. Then, a spooky, chilling quiet closed in on her. She clawed at the blackness, calling her mama, fighting a terror like she’d never known before.
Later, her grandma told her it had taken two days to find her. It had seemed like forever. Amber’s stomach knotted. She had only faced the cold, darkness, and hunger—not ruthless men. Alicia’s fear must be a hundred times worse. Please, Lord, don’t let them hurt my little Rosebud.
Amber’s nerves twitched beneath her skin. How many people were involved with the kidnapping? If one of them was watching her, he could see that, as instructed, she was alone.
God, she was going to meet the men who had killed Mr. Rhoades! Amber trembled, remembering the shouted orders—the violence—the sudden and painful darkness. Sweat trickled down her back. With damp palms, she clutched the reins tighter. If only she had dared to tell someone about the call. Doubt sliced at Amber’s heart like the killer’s razor blade. With all that had happened, she knew the guy who had called wouldn’t really exchange Alicia for the journal and let them go. But if he took her to the child… Okay, she was counting on a miracle.
****
Luke paced the floor, aching to race out the door and stop Amber from this insanity. She knew the danger, yet to save Alicia, she was risking her life. He’d never known anyone more courageous, more selfless. He understood why she hadn’t told him about the call. But she should have. He could have made special arrangements to protect her. An ache twisted Luke’s gut. The two people he cared most about were in deadly danger. Every fiber of his soul wanted to run to the rescue. The killer’s cold, emotionless words played in his head. “If anyone follows you, I’ll kill Alicia.” Damn, he had to consider the fallout from any action.
Matt and the sheriff watched him with sympathy on their faces. Luke stopped pacing and glared at them. “Okay men, I need some ideas here. Now.”
“We can’t let that SOB call the shots,” the sheriff said. “I’ll send some men to Verde Creek by way of Deadman’s Hill on horseback. They can backtrack toward the ranch. We’ll close in from two directions and intercept the exchange.”
Matt shook his head. “This isn’t about any exchange. I don’t think it’s even about the journal. The head guy wants Amber for what he thinks she knows.”
“Save the damned FBI theories,” Luke said, feeling boxed in. “I need foolproof direction.”
“Doesn’t exist,” Matt said, “and you know it. But the sheriff’s suggestion about going in the back way around the hill could work. But not by horseback. By chopper.”
“And how quiet is a chopper, big brother?” Luke said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He wiped his hand across his face. “If they see us, or hear us, Alicia’s dead.”
“If we do nothing,” Matt said, “they’re both dead.”
Luke darted a sharp look at Matt. “Doing nothing’s not an option.”
****
Minutes ticked off like hours. Amber shook her head. The irony of riding into the clutches of killers when all she wanted was to run away, terrified her as much as the bitter taste of her own fear. The breeze died down, and heat rose in waves from the dry earth and radiated across the horizon. Everything went still. Amber’s neck prickled at the sense of not being alone. A shaft of icy fear sliced through her bone-deep as she reined in Firebrand and scanned the dry, purple flatness behind her. Was that the sound of hooves again? Firebrand’s ears lay back as if he heard someone, too.
Amber tensed, her gaze flicking to the stand of mesquite that bordered the well-beaten path. Nothing moved. Not the spindly, dark branches. Not a leaf. Heat swirled around her, oppressive, unsafe. The taste, smell, and feel of fear pressed against her. She listened intently. If there was more than one rider following her, she’d hear more horses. She looked ahead. The path would lead her and the rider under a leafy elm buried in a cluster of mesquite. She dismounted with more guts than skill and drew her horse out of sight. “Don’t make a sound, boy. I’m counting on you.”
Amber grabbed her rope and gun. She tucked the gun in her waistband, looped the rope over her shoulder, and headed for the elm beside the path. It took three tries to swing herself up into the branches. She gasped for breath, her heart lunging in her chest. Climbing trees had been a heck of a lot easier when she had been a tomboy kid. She straddled a thick branch and secured one end of her rope to the trunk. The other end she got ready to drop on her mark. Okay, shadow, I’m ready for you. Let’s get this show on the road. Precious minutes ticked by. Where was he?
She exh
aled in relief when the clomp of hooves announced his approach. The dark-skinned man looked like a typical vaquero. Straw hat, usual ranch duds. What if she was wrong about him? He was passing right under her now. No time for uncertainty.
She dropped the rope around his arms and yanked with all her might, pulling him from the horse. It helped that he was a lightweight. His straw hat went flying. He cursed in Spanish as he swung back and forth, dangling like a puppet, about six inches off the ground. He began to yell.
Amber drew her gun and glared down at him. “Shut up. A bullet in the skull could ruin your day.” She was amazed at how steady her voice was, how steady her gun hand.
He went silent and squinted up at her, measuring the threat. He was trying to move his arms, but the rope was too tight. Struggling made his body jerk. Too much jerking about might loosen the rope. “Freeze!” Amber said.
Keeping the gun more or less aimed in his direction, she lowered herself to the lowest branch and jumped.
“You’ve made a mistake, you stupid bitch,” he said.
His response and the hatred in his eyes told her there was no mistake. She pointed her gun at his crotch. “What part of shut up don’t you understand?”
He glared down at her. His tough, obstinate expression warned that questions would only bring lies and waste precious time. Now that she could see him more closely, she realized she’d seen him at Buck’s ranch.
Amber turned her attention to his horse. It stood about twenty feet away, munching on grass. She took the man’s rope from the saddle horn and hogtied him, using Girl Scout knots that were so tight he would have to get help to cut them off. Sweat dripped from her face. Her shirt clung to her back. “I’m sorry about this,” she said, as she worked. In case someone found him and freed him, she had to pretend she believed he was just a vaquero who happened upon her by accident. “You see, it can’t even look like you’re following me.”
