His Best Friend’s Baby

by Mallory Kane

  “Thank you, Margo, but I’m not thirsty.” She tried to step away from her mother-in-law’s grasp, but Margo held on.

  “I’d like to speak to Matthew alone for a moment.”

  Aimee rubbed her temple, where a headache was gathering. She knew what Margo planned to do. She was going to tell Matt to leave. She could practically see the wheels turning in her mother-in-law’s head. A lot of people in Casper knew that Matt had been with Bill when he died, and Margo didn’t like the Vicks being the subject of gossip.

  Appearances. They’d always been her main concern. The magenta suit she wore attested to that. Only Aimee and the owner of Margo’s favorite dress shop knew that her first act upon hearing of her grandson’s kidnapping was to have the suit rushed over in time for the press conference.

  “Anything you have to say, you can say in front of me, Margo.” Aimee stiffened her back and met her mother-in-law’s gaze.

  “If you’re sure, dear.” Margo turned to Matt. “Aimee is terribly distraught. I’d rather she not be upset further. Perhaps you should leave.”

  Matt raised his brows and gazed at Margo steadily. “I have every right to be here. William Matthew is my godson.”

  A godson he’d never seen, Aimee thought. To make matters worse, Margo had spent the year since Bill’s death trying to coax Aimee to relinquish control of William’s future to her.

  I have the resources and the connections, dear. You don’t.

  Grief and fear and anger balled up inside Aimee, until she felt as if she were going to explode. She had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing out at both of them.

  Aimee had loved Bill, but the six years of their marriage had been a tug-of-war between him and his mother. Now she was in the same position, standing between Margo and Matt.

  “William is my child,” she blurted out. “This is my decision.”

  Every eye in the room turned their way.

  “Aimee,” Margo said warningly as her fingers tightened on Aimee’s shoulder. “Don’t make a scene.”

  Aimee wasn’t sure how she felt about Matt showing up after a year—almost to the day—since Bill’s death, but she didn’t doubt his ability. As a weather expert and survival specialist, rescuing the innocent was his specialty.

  If anyone could save her child, Matt could.

  “If Special Agent Schiff agrees, I want Matt here. It makes sense for him to be involved. He’s trained in rescue and recov—” Aimee’s throat closed on the word recovery.

  “Rescue,” she said as firmly as she could. No crying. She hadn’t cried yet, and she didn’t plan to start now. Crying never helped anything. She was afraid that if she started she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Margo’s dark eyes snapped with irritation as she drew in a sharp breath. Then, with a quick glance around the room, she consciously relaxed her face and nodded.

  “Of course,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” Her grip on Aimee’s shoulder loosened and turned into an awkward pat.

  The shrill ring of a cell phone split the air. Aimee jumped.

  It was him. The kidnapper.

  She whirled, looking for her purse, and then remembered that the FBI had forwarded her cell to Margo’s house phone. At that instant, the landline rang.

  Special Agent Schiff motioned her over to the table, where wires and headphones and computers appeared to be piled haphazardly.

  “Mrs. Vick—” Schiff said in a cautionary tone. “Remember what we discussed?”

  She was going to have to talk to the man who’d taken her baby. Her stomach turned upside down. As she approached, a computer technician handed two sets of headphones to Schiff. Schiff, in turn, reached past her to hand a set to Matt. Then he donned the remaining set himself.

  “Wait to see what he says,” Schiff cautioned her. “Once he starts talking ransom, you insist it be delivered by a family friend—Parker. Don’t let him bully you. Don’t give in to any demands. You are in control, not him. Got it?”

  Aimee had never felt less in control in her life. Her baby was in the hands of the monster on the other end of the phone, and she was being forced to bargain for his life. The phone rang again, the piercing noise sending terror slicing through her.

  “On my count,” Schiff whispered. “Pick up on three.”

  She nodded jerkily. Her throat was too dry to swallow. Her hands were shaking so much she wasn’t sure she could hold on to the phone.

  Schiff nodded at the computer tech, glanced at Matt, then held up a finger. “One,” he mouthed to her.

  A second finger went up. “Two.”

  Aimee bit her lip and reached for the phone. Matt stepped closer.

  Schiff held up three fingers. “Three.” He nodded.

  She picked up the phone, her other hand pressed to her chest. “Hello?” she croaked.

  “Hello, Aimee. Hello, Special Agent Schiff, and whoever else is listening.”

  Aimee stiffened at the kidnapper’s menacing tone. At the same time, Matt’s shoulder brushed hers. Coiled tension radiated from his body like heat. He rested a hand lightly on the small of her back. Somehow, his touch gave her courage.

  “What have you done with my baby?” she cried. “I have to know if he’s okay.”

  “Your baby is perfectly safe for now,” the harsh voice said. “It’s up to you to keep him safe. Let’s talk business.”

  “What do you want?” she asked tightly.

  “Money, of course,” the man replied. “Are you listening, Schiff? Because I will only say this once. I want a million dollars in hundreds. Don’t give me any problem about the money. I am aware of who your mother-in-law is.” The man’s voice was cold and hard. “I don’t want to hear excuses about needing time to get the cash together. Just do it.”

  Aimee felt helpless and lost. She could hardly make sense of what he was saying. She took a deep breath. “Let me talk to my baby,” she begged. “He must be so scared. He needs to hear my voice.”

  “Shut up. You’re not giving the orders. I am. Now here’s where the exchange will take place.”

  He rattled off some numbers that meant nothing to Aimee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt nod at Schiff.

  “Got it?” the man snapped.

  Schiff sent her a nod.

  “Y-yes,” she said.

  “Tomorrow at 1500 hours. Aimee, if you want to see your baby again, you will deliver the money.”

  Matt jerked. He shook his head fiercely at Schiff.

  “I—I don’t know,” she stammered, her heart stuck in her throat.

  “Family friend,” Schiff mouthed.

  “Wait. I can’t come alone,” she said as strongly as she could. “I—I’ll need to care for William Matthew. I need to bring a—a family friend—”

  “Schiff?” the kidnapper said. “What did I tell you? I will not say it again. Make it happen.”

  The line went dead.

  “Dammit,” Matt spat.

  Aimee’s throat closed and her eyes stung with tears. She swallowed them as the phone dropped from her numb fingers. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Schiff didn’t answer her. “Give me those coordinates,” he told the computer tech, who repeated the numbers.

  “You said you’re an expert in weather and survival,” Schiff said to Matt. “Know where that is?”

  “That latitude and longitude puts it north of Sundance,” Matt muttered. He pulled a small device out of his pocket and pressed buttons. “It’s about halfway up Ragged Top Mountain. Rough terrain. Plus we’ve got a late-winter storm building. Could dump a foot or more of snow before it’s done.”

  He turned toward Margo. “Isn’t Ragged Top where your husband’s hunting cabin was? I think Bill and I went up there a few times.”

  Margo nodded stiffly. “That’s right. No one’s been there in years. I don’t understand. What did the kidnapper say?”

  “He’s demanding that we bring the money to a location on the south side of Ragged T
op.”

  “South—? That’s—” Margo stopped, frowning. “Oh, dear.” Her face drained of color.

  It was only the second time Aimee had ever seen Margo shaken. The first was when she was told her son had died. Maybe her mother-in-law wasn’t as cold and insensitive as she’d always appeared.

  “What?” Matt demanded. “It’s what?”

  The woman blinked. “Nothing. It’s just—it’s so hard to get up there. Especially this time of year. I’d have thought—I mean how’s he going to keep William safe up there?”

  “I’ll tell you how,” Matt said. “He knows the area. I’d bet money on it, judging by the way he rattled off those coordinates. He knows Aimee can’t go by herself.”

  Schiff raised his eyebrows. “What about you? Can you do it?”

  Matt’s jaw clenched in determination. “Yeah. I can do it. I’ve pulled innocents out of more remote locations than that. But this storm’s coming in fast. By 1500 hours tomorrow, it’ll be right on top of that peak.”

  Schiff frowned. “The weather service said it would be moving into this area late tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they’re saying.” Matt set his jaw. “I’m going in alone.”

  Aimee stiffened. She knew he could do it. That wasn’t the problem. He was a search-and-rescue specialist, trained in the Air Force. There was no one better suited to the job.

  But the kidnapper had been very specific.

  “Don’t even think about leaving me behind, Matt,” she said. “William Matthew is my baby. He needs me. When you hand over the money, I will be there to take him in my arms.”

  Chapter Two

  THURSDAY 1600 HOURS

  After coordinating times and plans with Special Agent Schiff, Matt drove straight back to Castle Ranch. He needed to talk to Deke.

  At thirty, Deke Cunningham was one of the most decorated Air Force combat rescue officers alive. His skill with a rifle was legendary. The only thing he did better than shoot was fly a helicopter.

  Which was exactly why Matt wanted him on alert for the ransom exchange.

  When he got to the hangar, Deke wasn’t there. But at the door to his office, Matt saw something he hadn’t noticed before.

  The plaque hanging beside Deke’s office door. It had hung in Rook Castle’s office since the day he’d created Black Hills Search and Rescue, Incorporated. It was small and plain, with a simple message.

  IN MEMORIAM

  Vietnam Veteran and Combat Rescue Officer Arlis Hanks, 1944–1990. Our pledge—to honor your bravery by rescuing the innocent.

  Matt touched the four signatures that were emblazoned into the bronze. Robert Kenneth Castle, Deke Cunningham, Matthew Parker and William Barker Vick.

  Irina must have given it to Deke. Matt nodded to himself. It was fitting.

  He found Deke in Irina’s office, sitting with her, Specialist Rafiq Jackson and Aaron Gold near a bank of windows that framed a view of the desolate, magnificent Black Hills. He nodded at Rafe and Aaron, and acknowledged Deke with a brief glance.

  Irina smiled and stood to give him a hug. Rook Castle’s widow was as vibrant and lovely as ever. Her blond hair glowed in the sunlight that streamed in the window. But behind her smile and the sparkle in her blue eyes, Matt saw a shadow of grief.

  He couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for her to give up searching for her husband. She’d seen him shot, and watched him fall into the Mediterranean Sea. Even so, she’d clung to the hope that because his body had never been recovered, he might be alive.

  Now, she’d given up. For everyone who knew her, and who’d supported her efforts to find him, that made it official. Rook Castle was dead.

  “Irina,” Matt said. “When you called me the other day, I didn’t get a chance to say—”

  She held up a hand. “I know. Thank you, Matt.” A small, sad smile lit her face. “It’s been more than two years. It’s time I stopped living in a fantasy world. What’s important now is rescuing Aimee’s baby. All my resources are available to you.”

  He studied her face, wondering if Deke had told her about his theory that Novus was behind the kidnapping. He decided not to mention it. “I wanted to see if Deke could help me out.”

  “Of course. You two talk here. I need to check with Pam about my schedule. Rafe, Aaron, walk out with me.”

  After Irina left, Matt sat and propped his elbows on the table. He intertwined his fingers. “What’s up with Rafiq? Did you talk to him about Novus?”

  “He’s listening in on activity around the Afghan/ Pakistan/China borders. Chatter’s way up in the region since Irina stopped searching.” Deke rubbed his face. “Nothing concrete, mostly speculation.”

  “I’m glad we’ve got Rafe. It’s good to have someone who speaks the language. Has he heard anything about what Novus is up to?”

  “Well, you made big news when you left. Sounds like you’re right. The chatter supports the theory that you left because you found Rook.”

  “Hmph. So much for my fifteen minutes of fame. I wish the chatter were right.”

  Deke didn’t respond.

  “What about you?” Matt asked him. “Are you on a case right now?” he asked.

  “Nope. No case. Just hanging. I’d love to be out kicking butt somewhere, but I feel like I need to be here. You know?”

  “Irina looks pretty good. How’s she holding up?”

  Deke shook his head. “It took a lot out of her to make the decision to stop looking for Rook. All this time she’s lived with the image of him being shot, then disappearing into the Mediterranean. It was awful—” Deke’s voice cracked. “I mean, it had to have been.”

  Matt didn’t have to imagine. He had his own nightmares. His dreams were haunted by the sight of Bill Vick spinning helplessly as he plummeted to earth, trailed by the parachute that failed to open.

  “What about Aimee?” Deke continued.

  “Not good. And I’m afraid I made it worse, showing up like that.” Matt stared at his clasped hands. “With her about to break, and the kidnapper’s demands, I’ve got a real situation brewing. Can you be on alert for the ransom drop?”

  “Yeah, sure. When is it? Soon, I hope. There’s a doozie of a winter storm heading this way, and my bird’s not fond of snow.”

  “I know. I’ve been tracking the front. I think it’s going to blow in earlier than they’re predicting.”

  “You should know. I still say you should hire yourself out to the local TV station as a weatherman.” It was an old joke.

  “Hair gel and a blue screen? I’ll do that the day you become a rodeo sharpshooter.” Matt couldn’t help but smile. Then he got back to business. “The ransom drop is scheduled for 1500 hours tomorrow. Here are the coordinates the kidnapper gave us.” Matt handed Deke a scrap of paper.

  Deke snagged it and stepped over to an area map hanging on the wall. He tapped the point with his finger. “It’s pretty high up, and isolated.”

  “Yeah. I’m going to take one of our Hummers. There’s a maintenance road up the south side. It’ll take at least two hours to get up there.”

  “I see it. But if you’re right about the storm…Why don’t I fly you up in the bird? It’d be a lot quicker.”

  “Because there’s a complication. The kidnapper demanded that Aimee make the drop herself.”

  “The Hummer holds two passengers and it’s heated. Coming back, we may have a baby.”

  Deke’s brows shot up. “May? You don’t think your kidnapper is going to turn over the kid?”

  “That location gives me a bad feeling. How’s he going to handle a seven-month-old, and make sure nobody gets the drop on him?”

  “He’d have to have an accomplice.”

  “Right. That plus the storm—I don’t like the odds. That’s why I need you to be available. I want primary and secondary rendezvous points in case something happens and we can’t use the Hummer to get out. Maybe even a tertiary.” Matt paused and rubbed his neck. “The location he’s picked is
going to receive the brunt of that storm. He’s got to know that. I have a feeling he’s banking on it to cover his tracks.”

  “I’ll have the bird ready to go.”

  “If you don’t hear from me, head for the first rendezvous point. Be there by 0800. Here are the times and places I’ve got mapped out.”

  “Friday 0800 hours? That’s sixteen hours. You’re planning to ride out the storm up there? You could be blown right off that mountain.”

  “Thanks for that image. No. I plan to be back down the mountain in the Hummer with Aimee and the baby, safe and sound. The 0800 rendezvous is if we get caught by the storm or something goes wrong. If everything goes as planned, I’ll call you. It’ll probably be after dark.”

  “Just make sure you’ve got plenty of flares.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll have flares. Do these times work for you?”

  “Times are fine. And I see you’re planning to move up toward the peak, rather than down.”

  “Right. I figure if we can’t ride back down in the Hummer, we need to be heading to higher ground. The storm’s coming in from the west. I’d like to try to stay either ahead of it or above it. Plus, your bird’s not going to like dodging trees, so the fewer the better.”

  Deke nodded.

  They quickly agreed on two alternate times and places, the second twenty-four hours after the first. Plus a third, twenty-four hours after that, in case the storm stalled.

  “One last thing,” Matt said. “Take these coordinates. This is a last-resort location. It’s an hour’s walk south from the Vicks’ cabin.”

  “The hunting cabin. I forgot about that place. You think you might end up there?”

  Matt shrugged. “It’s good shelter. We might need it, if we have to travel that far.”

  Deke stuck the piece of paper in his pocket. “No problem. I’ll hang on to these.”

  “Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you.” Matt stood.

  “You know there’s another way to handle this.”

  “Not really.”

  “Sure there is. Leave Aimee out of it. You and I go up in the Hummer, get the drop on the kidnapper and get the baby back safe and sound.”