by Barb Han
“I’ve been expecting your call,” Charles Alcorn said.
“Or maybe not,” Dylan said through clenched teeth.
“If you want your daughter back alive, you’ll agree to an exchange. You know who I really want.” Alcorn should sound shocked. He seemed to be expecting the call from Dylan on this line.
The runner must’ve let his boss know that he’d lost his phone when they’d given chase.
“Fine. Tell us where,” she interrupted, knowing full well Dylan would never make that trade.
The look he gave her could’ve shot daggers right through her. His lips thinned.
She gave him a pleading look in return even though she knew no one would get out of this alive if Alcorn had his way.
“Tomorrow. Noon. At the fork in the road between Benton County Road and Oxford on the way into Dallas. People will be watching, and if you bring in anyone else, the girl dies,” Alcorn said.
“Fine. Bring my father, too, or there’s no deal.”
The line went dead.
Dylan was already shaking his head. “This is a no-win situation, Samantha. I can’t allow you to do this.”
“How else do you plan to take him down and get your daughter back?” She sat there boldly waiting for an answer. “That girl needs to be home in her own bed. Not spending another night with those creeps.”
“You can’t go. They get to you and it’s over.” Dylan was already on his feet, gripping either side of his head with his hands. He looked at his watch. “We only have ten hours to figure this out.”
“For now, we know your daughter’s safe. That’s all that matters.” She put a hand on his arm.
“You’re important, too. Can’t you see that?” Standing at his full height of six foot two with muscles for days, he was a strong physical presence in the room. The man took up a lot of space and she could see how that might be intimidating to anyone who didn’t know him. To her, he was Dylan. Bold and brave. Honest. Forthright. All the characteristics she respected in a man.
Jorge slipped out of the room as if aware the energy had taken on a new form, something more intimate.
“If they get to me, it’s all over. I know that,” she responded quietly, suddenly aware of being alone with Dylan.
“That’s all you think this is about?” His face looked thunderstruck. “We’ve been friends a long time, and you mean more to me than just a...a...pawn to get my daughter back.”
What was she supposed to do with that? Of course they were friends, but she felt so much more for Dylan than that. If that was how he classified their relationship, there wasn’t much she could do about it except try not to embarrass herself again.
The way his eyes darkened when he stalked toward her and stopped not more than a foot away almost had her believing there was so much more there than friendship.
And that was just wishful thinking on her part. Dylan didn’t know what to feel. He kept emotions like that under lock and key. It didn’t matter how hard her heart beat with him this close or that she knew his beat hard, too. He was stubborn. He’d never allow himself to indulge in his weakness for her or anyone else. She tried not to take it personally.
“Dylan, we have to do something. You said yourself that they’ll get desperate if we don’t. That could lead to bad things.”
“We could march over to Alcorn’s front door and kick his—”
“You know he’s not stupid enough to be home.”
“Then, we’ll get the law involved,” he said.
“That won’t work, either. He won’t keep them where they can be connected to him. He’s not that stupid. He has too many places to hide people.”
“Fine. Then I’ll put that bastard under surveillance.” Dylan’s anger was a third physical presence in the room and it obliterated all other emotions on his face.
She needed to let him talk this out before he’d be able to see reason. She could see his wheels spinning behind his eyes.
“Good idea. Call Brody. He and Dawson can do that. Or Ryan,” she said. “Have people watching him that he’s not expecting.”
“I’ll think about it.” Dark circles cradled his eyes and she’d never seen him look more tired.
She walked over and stood toe to toe with him. “Even if Alcorn was keeping Maribel and my father at his house, he won’t be now. He knows we’re onto him and the stakes have been raised.”
“Are you saying it’s not worth the time to watch him?”
“No. Not exactly. I think it would be good to have someone track his movements,” she clarified. “But let’s not walk into a trap here.”
He seemed to really consider her ideas. The pulse at the base of his throat had returned to a reasonable beat. “You’re probably right.”
“We should go back to your place or mine. Actually, now that I think about it, my place is better. I have security in the building. At the very least we’d be safe while we figure out our plan. We’ll be twenty minutes from the meet-up spot. I have food there. All we’ve been eating so far to keep us going is power bars, other than the little bit of pasta I ate in the barn. We need something more substantial.” She didn’t feel like eating but was pulling out all the stops to coax Dylan to go to her place. Going home was something she hadn’t believed possible before. Not when she’d taken off days ago with her car and a little cash. It seemed almost a lifetime ago now.
“Now that I have proof Alcorn is involved and this operation has to be bigger than just a couple of local kidnappings spaced years apart, I don’t trust the sheriff, either,” Dylan said, rubbing the scruff on his chin.
“I’ve seen them around each other quite a bit, too, when I visit Dad. It does make me suspicious of our law enforcement.”
“What if they’re all on Alcorn’s payroll? What then?” Dylan asked.
“I don’t think that’s true. I could see the sheriff not wanting to rock the boat any more than he had to, maybe even looking the other way from time to time, but the FBI would’ve figured out if those two were in league years ago. Don’t you think?” Samantha didn’t want to believe that Brine could be covering for Alcorn.
“You’re right. Sheriff Brine isn’t smart enough to fool the FBI. So we can be relatively certain that he didn’t know who was really involved fifteen years ago. Do you think he suspected his golfing buddy?” Dylan asked bitterly.
“I doubt it. If you remember, Alcorn was out there volunteering to search for Rebecca and Shane just like everyone. I think he even donated a hundred thousand dollars to the search. I know he hired private planes to watch from the skies.”
“I never really thought about it before, but it would be easier to keep an eye on things if he was involved in the search party. Isn’t that the reason criminals return to crime scenes? That and the high they get from reliving it and outsmarting everyone,” Dylan ground out.
“True. Call me naive but I never believed it could be someone who lived in our community. How can a person look people in the eye every day knowing they did something so heinous? It gives me the creeps to think we all cried together, searched together and mourned together. And there he was, right there under our noses.”
“If I had to guess, he didn’t authorize Kramer to take Shane. Even dumb criminals aren’t stupid enough to mess around in their own backyards,” Dylan said after thinking about it for a few seconds. “And that’s the reason Shane wasn’t sold.”
“Mind if I come back in?” Jorge peeked inside the door. His voice was low, an indication his kids were still sleeping and he’d like to keep it that way.
“Come on in,” Dylan said, and then turned to Samantha. “At the very least, Alcorn’s a big donor to the mayor’s campaign fund. They’ll protect him no matter what he’s gotten himself involved in.”
“True.”
Dylan really looked at her
. “Because you know what I’m thinking? We’ve known this was bigger than what we realized. It’s not one kid taken here and there. Shane was the first from our town and he was the oldest until that other boy, but my guess is that they like to take younger kids. There’s a huge market for them. One thing I do know is that your dad saw something he wasn’t supposed to fifteen years ago and he’s been paid to keep quiet ever since.”
“You might be onto something there. The fact that the money keeps coming in also leads me to believe there’s more going on than just what happened before.” Samantha stood, hoping Dylan would take the hint that she was ready to leave.
“Kramer was part of the operation,” Dylan said. “Alcorn is the brains.”
“They found that kid at Kramer’s house recently,” she pointed out.
“True, and everyone chalked it up to him losing his own son. He was working for Alcorn all along. They were snatching kids and this guy decides he wants one for himself. Maybe he even thinks he deserves one since his son was taken from him. In the process, he brings all kinds of heat on Alcorn’s operation. They’re forced to stop for a while but then they get things going again.”
“Eventually everything calms down until Kramer takes another little boy for himself last year, plus the fact that Rebecca refused to stop digging into the case,” Samantha said.
“Right.” Dylan turned to Jorge. “We’re taking off.”
“Okay, my friend. Just so you know, I’m heading to the meet-up location while it’s still dark outside to plant a few cameras in the trees. I checked out the site and it should be easy enough to hide my equipment. I can go wireless, too. It’s close enough to the city that I should be able to get a decent connection. I’ll dig into Charles Alcorn’s finances, too. Anything happens to you guys... I’ll go straight to the feds.”
“Good. Local law enforcement might be tainted,” Dylan said. He paused for a beat, taking in the change in situation. “I can’t thank you enough, man. You know I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks. You got a family to take care of, too, and they need you.”
Everything about Dylan’s demeanor—his rounded shoulders, earnest eyes—said he meant those words.
“I’m doing it for my family as much as yours. I can’t let those bastards get away with taking Maribel. Besides, the two of you are my family!”
Samantha bit back the emotion building in her chest, climbing up the back of her throat, threatening to spill out of her eyes.
“You have no idea what it means to me to know you’re watching my back.” A look of friendship, kinship, passed between the two men.
Dylan turned to Samantha, his gaze softer now but still determined. “We can head out. I may not be able to sleep but you might.”
“I’ll keep working on everything you sent me. Now that I know more of what I’m looking for, I might get lucky and piece it all together. If I can link this jerk, we can turn the information over to the feds. They don’t take lightly to hidden offshore bank accounts.” Jorge stuck out his hand.
Dylan took it and shook, followed by Samantha.
“Thank you for everything, Jorge. It was nice meeting you,” Samantha said, noticing the moisture gathering underneath Jorge’s eyes. His and Dylan’s relationship clearly was stronger than friendship. It was more like a brotherhood. She’d seen it all too many times with her own brothers. Mess with one and they all came running in defense. Plus, Jorge was a father. She imagined his children playing with Maribel in the past year since she’d come to live with her father. Jorge seemed almost as affected by her disappearance as Dylan. And what was happening to Dylan was unthinkable for any parent.
“Same here. When this all blows over, we should throw some steaks on the grill. We got a swimming pool in the back. Kids love it. Bring Maribel.” An emotion flickered behind his eyes... Anxiety? Sadness? Pity? He seemed to quickly recover. “We’ll figure this out. That jerk won’t get away with this. We’ll hang that SOB for what he’s doing. That I promise you, bro.”
“We’ll get him and we’ll bring her home,” Dylan repeated like a mantra, a promise.
Chapter Sixteen
To say Dylan had a lot to think about was like saying bombs exploded. And that analogy wasn’t too far off from what his head felt as though it might do. The drive to Samantha’s place, a route he’d taken only a couple days ago, was almost too quiet. He’d switched out the truck for his SUV on the way and texted Brody to let him know where to find his pickup.
Dylan had urged Samantha to sit close to him, needing to feel her warmth, and she’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder.
His heart ached because he could get used to this. It felt right to have someone like Samantha in his life, on his shoulder, curled up against him. But his life was no longer about what he wanted.
Besides, it was good that Samantha was resting. She needed sleep and he needed time to come up with a plan. No way could he allow her anywhere near the meet-up site.
It wasn’t until he was pulling into her parking garage that he felt her stir. “I can’t believe I fell asleep for a solid hour. It felt like five minutes.” She yawned and stretched. “Doesn’t help much that I feel like a zombie. You know how it is when your eyes open but you don’t really feel as if you woke up? It’s as though you’re dreaming that you’re awake.”
“Yeah. It’s the worst. Feels like walking in quicksand.”
“That’s exactly how I feel right now. The only thing I know is real is how tight my shoulders are.” She rolled them a couple of times as though trying to work out the kinks.
“Let’s get you upstairs and into your own bed for a change.” He parked in a visitor space, cut the engine and surveyed the garage. “I made sure no one followed us.”
He moved quickly around the back side of the truck to open the door for her. She took his hand and he ignored the jolt of electricity running through his as soon as they made contact. This would all be over soon and he warned himself against getting used to the feeling of having Samantha next to him or the constant sexual current running between them.
Space would normally be a good thing in a situation like theirs, except the time they’d spent apart had left a cavern in his chest. He filed away his thoughts as he walked with Samantha to her condo, his hand resting on the small of her back.
Inside, after the door was secured, she turned to him. “I bought a multipack of toothbrushes two weeks ago at the grocery. They’re under the bathroom sink. Feel free to use one. Shower’s that way. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and see if I can wake up. I’ll be no good to anyone like this.” She moved into the open-concept kitchen.
“I have a few calls to make first. Go ahead and shower while the coffee brews. I’ll bring you a cup as soon as it’s ready. Mind if I check out the balcony?”
“Not at all. Make yourself at home.”
Dylan blocked out how much he liked her place and how homey it felt, figuring he could be in a cardboard box with her and it would somehow feel just as nice. Thoughts like those were about as brilliant as waterboarding himself. There was only one thing missing in order to make his life complete at the moment and it was Maribel.
As soon as he was sure Samantha couldn’t hear and no one was watching her place, he fished his burn phone out of his pocket.
Brody answered on the first ring. “What’s going on?”
“How are you still awake? It’s the middle of the night. I was afraid I’d wake you.”
“I can’t sleep, not while they have... Not until we get Maribel back,” Brody said wearily. “Neither can Rebecca. We were just talking about ways we can help.”
“Are you sitting down?” Dylan appreciated the support of his friends more than he could say. After basically being on his own his entire childhood, he especially respected the friends who’d become his surrogate family. And it made him e
ven more proud that Maribel would never face the kind of loneliness he’d experienced as a young child. She would always have half a dozen surrogate aunts and uncles around. She’d be surrounded by people who loved and protected her, made her feel safe. And maybe that would provide the support she needed after losing her mother at such a young age. Maribel not having memories of him and her mother together was on him. If he hadn’t been so selfish, so vocal, he and Lyndsey might’ve gotten married and provided a real home for Maribel.
He could beat himself up all day over that, and yet he knew the outcome wouldn’t change. Lyndsey would still be dead. Dylan gripped the phone tighter.
“Yeah, why?” Brody asked.
“We caught a trail tonight and it led us straight to Charles Alcorn,” Dylan said matter-of-factly.
“Seriously?” Shock was laced all throughout Brody’s tone.
“I wouldn’t joke about a serious accusation like this.”
“No. Of course you wouldn’t.” When Brody repeated Alcorn’s name, it sounded as if he moved the phone away from his mouth. He was most likely telling Rebecca. She would be just as stunned as the rest of them after all that Alcorn had done to find her younger brother fifteen years ago. Or, at least, all he’d pretended to do to help.
“I talked to him on the phone myself. He set a meet-up for tomorrow at noon. He wants to trade Maribel for Samantha.” Dylan waited, keeping an eye out for Samantha, who’d disappeared into a back room, presumably the bathroom. The warm breeze blew on his face as he studied the blue and green etchings around buildings of the Dallas skyline.
“Rebecca just texted Ryan and Dawson. They’re both up now. What can we do to help?” Brody asked. “I put you on speaker so Rebecca can hear.”
“I don’t want Samantha anywhere near the meet-up. It’s going to take some doing to keep her away. She’s convinced that she’s responsible for Maribel being involved and she wants to help,” Dylan said.
“I’ll take her place,” Rebecca offered.
