Colton Baby Rescue

by Marie Ferrarella

  Afraid that the canine would jostle the kidnapper and possibly cause the gun to go off, Carson caught hold of Justice’s collar, pulling him back to keep the canine still.

  “If you don’t want her pretty brains splattered all over the room, you’ll put your gun down, cop,” the man holding Serena hostage snarled.

  “Take it easy,” Carson told the intruder, speaking in a tranquil, sedate tone and doing his best to harness both his anger and his fear. He shifted his eyes toward Serena. Wanting to keep her calm, he told her, “It’s going to be all right.”

  “Only if you put your gun down and keep holding on to that dog of yours,” the man Serena had called Mark snapped. “Now!”

  Still holding on to Justice’s collar with one hand, Carson raised the weapon in his other hand, pointing the muzzle toward the ceiling.

  “I’m putting it down. Don’t do anything you’ll wind up regretting,” he warned the intruder.

  “Same goes for you,” the man growled. He cocked the trigger.

  “I’m putting it down,” Carson repeated more urgently, making an elaborate show of laying the handgun down on the floor beside his foot.

  The second that Carson’s gun was on the floor, the intruder shoved Serena into him. With a startled cry, she stumbled against Carson and Justice.

  Carson caught her before she could land on the floor. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Go, get him,” she cried urgently.

  Carson ran after the man, but as fast as he was, the foiled kidnapper turned out to be faster. The man fairly flew down the stairs and out the back way. Carson kept going until he reached the nearby creek that ran through the property.

  That was where Justice lost the would-be kidnapper’s scent.

  Carson kept searching the area for another twenty minutes, hoping that Justice would pick up the scent again. But after twenty minutes, he was finally forced to give up.

  “It’s okay, Justice,” he said, calling the dog off. “You did your best. We’ll get him next time. Let’s go back, boy.”

  * * *

  When he returned to mansion and went up to Serena’s suite, Carson found that she had got dressed. It was still the middle of the night, but it was obvious that she’d given up all hope of going back to sleep.

  The second he entered the room, she ran up to Carson. “Did he get away?” she asked.

  Despite the fact that she’d asked that, Serena was nursing the outside hope that he’d caught the man and that he was sitting handcuffed in Carson’s car, waiting to be transported to jail.

  But one look at Carson’s face told her that wasn’t the case. Mark had indeed got away from him. The nightmare was to continue.

  “Yeah,” Carson answered darkly. “He ran through the creek and Justice lost his scent.”

  “You’ll get him, Carson,” she said with such conviction, it was obvious that she firmly believed that there was no other way for this scenario to play out.

  Carson sat down on her bed. Serena dropped down beside him, her courage flagging.

  “Who is he, Serena?” Carson asked. “You called him by his name.”

  “I called him by a name,” she corrected. She wasn’t sure just what to expect or how Carson would handle being told about her connection to the man. “The one he told me when we met.”

  Carson shook his head. “Still doesn’t answer my question. Who is he—to you?” he specified.

  “Someone I thought I’d never see again,” she told him.

  Serena paused, pressing her lips together. It took her a moment to gather her courage together. What she and Carson had was all still very brand-new and fragile. She didn’t want to jeopardize it by throwing this other man into the mix.

  But she had no choice.

  She took a deep breath and told him, “He’s Lora’s father.”

  “Oh.”

  It was one thing to know that Serena had lost her head one night and got involved in what amounted to a one-night stand. It was another to actually meet the other person who had been involved in that evening.

  It took Carson a moment to come to grips with the situation, to deal with what he was feeling—a strong flare-up of jealousy. With effort, he tamped it down and forced himself to put it all into proper perspective.

  He blew out a long breath. “Well, it’s obvious that he’s not looking for a happy reunion between himself and his daughter.”

  Serena felt relieved and threatened at the same time. Relieved because Carson was taking her side in this. She knew that there were men who would have taken the situation and turned it into an opportunity to revile her for foolishly getting intimately involved with a stranger. The fact that Carson didn’t, that he didn’t lash out at her or upbraid her, making this all her fault, made her feel incredibly relieved and grateful.

  “I know it’s no excuse,” Serena began, “but I’d had too much to drink and—”

  “Stop,” Carson said sternly. When she did, looking at him quizzically, wondering if she was wrong about him after all, Carson told her, “You don’t owe me an explanation, Serena. Whatever happened between you and that man is in the past. What matters is now. We have to move forward from here—and we’ve got to get that bastard. Do you have any idea where he lives? Is he local or from out of state?”

  “Not a clue,” she admitted, embarrassed at her helplessness in this matter.

  There were other ways to find things out, Carson thought. “I’ll get in contact with the county’s forensics team, and they can at least dust your suite for any fingerprints that don’t belong. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Lora’s father is in the system.”

  Serena nodded. Although she was doing her best to get herself under control, she could feel the tears forming. That just made things worse. She didn’t want to cry in front of Carson. Crying was something a helpless female would do, and she refused to see herself as helpless.

  But despite her resolve, she couldn’t find a way to just blink back her tears.

  She could feel her eyes welling up so she turned her head away from him. She cleared her throat and said, “Um, maybe I should go down and make breakfast for us.”

  Rather than let her leave the room, Carson circled around until he was in front of her, blocking her way out. Taking her face in his hand, he tilted it toward him. Looking at her, his suspicions were confirmed. He wasn’t about to ask her if she was crying until he knew for certain.

  However now that he saw for himself that she was, he wasn’t about to fall into that old cliché and tell her not to cry. He just silently took her into his arms and held her.

  “We’ll get this SOB and find out what his game is. I promise,” he told her.

  She pressed her lips together, burying her face against Carson’s shoulder.

  “I’m not going to cry,” she told him, her voice breaking.

  “Nobody asked you to,” he answered matter-of-factly, trying to lighten the moment for her.

  “I just want my life back,” she told him.

  “I know, and you’ll get it back,” he said, stroking her hair, wishing there was some way he could really reassure her.

  Her sigh created a warmth that penetrated right through his shoulder, causing his stomach to tighten. He was prepared to go on holding her for as long as she needed him to.

  But the shrill sound of the landline ringing shattered the moment.

  He felt Serena instantly stiffen against him, as if the phone call couldn’t be anything positive despite the fact that there could be a whole host of reasons why someone might be calling.

  He looked over toward the phone on the white antique desk. “You want me to get that?” he offered.

  “No, it’s my house,” she told him, grateful for his offer but refusing to hide behind it. She wasn’t going to allow what was happening to diminish her in any way. She’d alwa
ys been strong and she intended to remain that way. “I should be the one answering my own phone.”

  Moving away from the shelter of Carson’s arms, she crossed over to the antique desk and picked the telephone receiver. “Double C Ranch.”

  “I know the name of the freaking ranch,” the voice on the other end snarled.

  It was him, the kidnapper. She would have recognized the man’s voice anywhere. Serena instantly made eye contact with Carson, urging him over.

  He was at her side immediately, gesturing for her to tilt the receiver so that he could hear what the caller was saying.

  Holding the receiver with both hands, she asked, “What do you want?”

  Instead of answering her question, Mark said, “I’m calling to find out what you want.”

  Still looking at Carson, she shook her head, mystified. “I don’t understand.”

  “All right, I’ll spell it out for you,” Mark said, irritated. “I’m guessing that you want me to disappear and never bother you and that cute little girl, our daughter, again.”

  Serena cringed. She wanted to shout at the man and tell him that he had no claim to Lora. That Lora wasn’t his little girl and never would be, that it took more than a genetic donation to make a father.

  But she knew she had to remain calm. If she didn’t, then Mark would get the upper hand. So she took a deep breath, and as Carson silently urged her on, she told Mark, “Yes, I do.” Taking a shaky breath as she desperately tried to steady her nerves, she asked, “How do I make that happen?”

  “Easy.” His voice sounded almost slimy, she thought. “All you have to do is bring me a million dollars.”

  She hadn’t been expecting for him to demand that much. “A million dollars?” she repeated, stunned.

  As if sensing her reaction, Mark went on the defensive immediately. “Hey, that’s not too much for your peace of mind—and your brat. Not to someone like you. Hell, that’s practically like petty cash for your family. A million dollars and I’ll go away.”

  She clutched at that phrase. “For good?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure. For good,” he told her. “That sound good?”

  “Yes.” It also sounded like a lie, she thought. “I don’t have that kind of cash readily accessible. I need time to gather it together.”

  “How much time?” he asked angrily.

  Her mind scrambled as she tried to come up with a reasonable answer. “At least a couple of days.”

  “Too much time,” he snapped. “You’ve got nine hours.”

  “I can’t get that much money in nine hours,” she cried, thinking of the logistics that were involved.

  “Find a way,” he retorted. “Unless you want to deal with the consequences.”

  Her eyes met Carson’s. He nodded, mouthing instructions and encouraging her to tell Mark that she’d meet him with the money.

  Serena let out a shaky breath. “All right. Where and when?”

  “Atta girl, now you’re playing the game. I want you to meet me in front of that fancy restaurant in town. The one that just opened up. The Barbecue Barn. Be there at three o’clock. Just you and our daughter,” he instructed with a mocking laugh. “Bring the million in unmarked bills in a backpack, the kind that schoolkids use. And make sure you come alone. I see anyone else there, if I see anything out of the ordinary, I promise I’ll make you very, very sorry—and our kid’ll be playing a harp. Understand, princess?”

  He was making her skin crawl, as well as making fear skewer her heart. “I understand. If I get you that money, I don’t ever want to see you near my daughter or me again,” she said with feeling.

  “Why, Serena, after everything we’ve meant to one another? I’m hurt,” Mark said sarcastically. And then his voice became deadly serious. “You bring that money, then yeah, you’ll never see me again and you and that cop you got guarding your body can go on playing house to your hearts’ content.

  “Remember, tomorrow, three o’clock. Unmarked bills in a backpack. You can put the backpack in the kid’s stroller so nobody’ll get suspicious,” he added. “You got that?”

  “I’ve got it.” Sensing he was about to hang up, she said, “Wait a minute. How do I know you’ll keep your word and disappear after you get your money?”

  She heard him laugh on the other end. The sound caused another cold chill to slither up and down her spine.

  “Well, honey, you’re just going to have to trust me on that,” he told her.

  “Trust you,” Serena repeated. What she wanted to do was rip his heart out and feed it to him, but she forced herself to sound docile.

  “Yeah, trust me,” he said.

  Carson was silently telling her to stay calm. But Lord, she was finding it hard to stay civil. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

  He laughed again, the sound slicing through her this time. “You do that, honey. You just do that.”

  Chapter 21

  Serena didn’t remember hanging up the phone. She didn’t remember crossing to her bed. She was aware of her legs giving out from beneath her so that she wound up collapsing onto it.

  The next moment, she felt Carson’s arm encircling her shoulders. “By this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over,” he promised.

  His words echoed in her head. In the meantime, she thought, she had all this terrible blackmail to deal with. Had to see that disgusting excuse for a human being again for the handoff.

  She just wanted this to be over with. “Maybe I should just pay him off,” she told Carson.

  He looked at her in surprise. “What are you saying? No, don’t even think about doing that,” Carson told her sternly. He realized that this was her fear talking, but paying this bastard off was not the way to go, she had to know that.

  Serena felt as if she was in between the proverbial rock and hard place. “But if paying him off means getting rid of him—” she began.

  He stopped her right there. “But that’s just it, Serena. You won’t. You won’t get rid of him. He’ll keep coming back, always asking for more money. Blackmailers never stop blackmailing, Serena. They just keep getting greedier.” Carson took hold of her shoulders, looking into her eyes and trying to cut through her fear. He had to get her to understand. “You’re going to the bank and taking out just enough to fill the top portion of that backpack he wants you to bring. The rest of it will be filled with cut-up newspapers.”

  “He also said to bring Lora,” she reminded Carson.

  “You’ll be bringing her stand-in instead,” he told Serena, nodding toward the crib in the other room where he’d put the decoy doll. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

  Much as she wanted him there, she felt she couldn’t risk it. “You heard that bastard. He said if he saw anyone with me—”

  “He won’t,” Carson cut in. “Don’t worry. I’m very good at my job,” he assured her without any bravado. “And after today, he’s never going to bother you again.” Very gently, he raised her chin so that her eyes met his. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “I believe you,” Serena answered, although her voice sounded a little hoarse.

  “It’d be better with a little more enthusiasm,” Carson said, “but I’ll accept that.”

  He kissed her on the forehead in an attempt to comfort her. His lips migrated down to her cheek, then to her other cheek. Before she knew it, the small act of comfort mushroomed into something much more than that.

  For the next hour, Serena found solace in his arms as well as sanctuary from some very real fears that existed just beyond the boundaries of her suite.

  * * *

  “That is one hell of a stroller,” Carson commented as he helped her load it into her car later that afternoon.

  Because they really weren’t sure, despite the fact that the blackmailer said he would meet her
in front of the restaurant, exactly where Mark might be hidden, Carson didn’t want to take a chance on the blackmailer seeing them come into Red Ridge together. So he was driving his own car to town while Serena was going to Red Ridge in hers.

  “How much did you say it cost?” he asked her, still looking at the stroller.

  Serena flushed, knowing that the pink stroller was exceedingly ostentatious. It had been a gift from her mother. Joanelle Colton always needed to make a big show out of everything, even something as simple as a stroller. Ordinarily Serena wouldn’t have accepted it, except that after what her mother had put her through, she felt the woman did owe her something. The stroller was her mother’s way of apologizing. Throwing money at something had always been preferable for her mother than admitting to a mistake.

  She’d seen the price tag. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother had left it there on purpose. “A thousand dollars.”

  Carson let out a low whistle. “For something Lora’s going to outgrow in a year? Does your mother always throw money around like that?”

  “Always,” Serena answered without hesitation, then added as she shook her head, “She thinks it puts people in awe of her.”

  Carson held his tongue, thinking it best not to say what he thought of that. Instead, he handed the decoy, dressed in Lora’s clothes, to Serena.

  “Don’t forget to put this in the car seat and buckle it up. You don’t want this Mark creep to suspect something’s wrong,” Carson cautioned.

  Taking the doll, Serena had to marvel about it again. “This is just too lifelike,” she told Carson. Not to mention that it felt a little eerie, handling the doll and pretending it was her daughter.

  Carson went to the heart of the matter. “Just as long as that doll does the trick and fools Mark, that’s all that counts.”

  She had her doubts about that. “Anyone stopping to look at ‘my daughter’ will see that it’s not Lora—or a real baby.”

  He had a solution for that. “Then just pull that little cotton blanket down over ‘her.’ Tell people she’s coming down with a cold, and you don’t want to take a chance on it getting worse because people are touching her and breathing on her.”