Gunslinger

by Angi Morgan

  “Darla, did you hear? We can play a game, okay? He’s going to put tape over our mouths and then we’ll see if you can get yours off first. Okay? Can you do that?”

  Darla nodded, looking terrified. But she got to her knees and hesitantly scooted closer. When she locked her hands around Kylie’s upper arm, the guy looked somewhat less threatening as he placed the tape first on Darla and then on her. Now, if they’d leave them alone in the trailer...

  The two men who had kidnapped Darla came on either side of the car. They yanked on her hands, testing them, and pulled the tie closer to her skin.

  If her mouth hadn’t been taped shut, she would have cursed like a sailor.

  “Tape the kid’s hands.”

  “She’s just a kid. What’s she going to do?” the younger one still holding the roll asked.

  “Don’t backtalk me, boy. Just do what I say.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The one giving orders left the truck. Kylie watched him in the rearview mirror. He closed the first half of the double doors shut, bolting it into place. It was the first time in a very long time that hearing a secured lock didn’t give her a feeling of elation and comfort.

  “You ready, boy?” He began swinging the second door and the light inside their giant box began shrinking.

  Darla’s body shook next to her. The one referred to as “boy” jumped into the backseat and flipped on an electric camping lantern.

  “Got it, sir.”

  The doors shut.

  “If you move, I’ll tape your hands and make you sit with me. Got it?”

  Darla nodded her head, whimpering beneath the tape.

  Kylie couldn’t make her feel secure or at ease. All she could really do was breathe deeply through her nose to try to calm the racing of her own heart. Eight years old or not, Darla had a grip. Her fingernails were cutting into her flesh. Kylie hummed.

  The lullaby “Mockingbird” immediately popped into her head, more from seeing it in movies than personally hearing it. She hummed, saying the words in her head. There was no way she could slide her hands through the smaller loops around her wrists. Getting free now would involve Darla.

  The kid bounced the car a bit as he stretched out. She heard the heels from his work boots hit the side of the car. The big rig lurched forward. She heard a click and they were plunged into darkness. Darla screamed behind the tape.

  The one great thing about the horrific afternoon heat was that the inside of the big rig immediately began sweltering. Normally this wouldn’t be a good thing. But today it made her upper lip sweat. And sweat helped loosen the tape across her mouth.

  Boy, as the guy in charge referred to him, would soon be snoring. The rocking of rig, heat and darkness made it a perfect place to nap. But not relax if you were a captive, headed to a Mafia family to be killed.

  Using her shoulder, she rubbed the corner of the tape, peeling it back slowly. Not waiting for it to dislodge from both sides, she lowered her voice, “Sweetie, can you pull the tape off now? It might sting a little. Be brave, little one, and don’t cry. Can you do that?”

  Kylie had to trust that the little girl was doing as instructed. No light seeped into their traveling box at all. The pitch-black made everything more frightening.

  “I ain’t asleep so stop trying to put one over on me.” Boy clicked on a small penlight. “You both need to chill. We’re gonna be here awhile.”

  Kylie saw Darla blink, then rub her eyes, between her own rapid adjusting. She couldn’t see Boy’s face, but one arm was relaxed across his belly. The other up and out of her view in the mirror. He was still stretched from window to window.

  At least they weren’t in the dark any longer. He’d said they were going to be there awhile. Did that mean Austin or somewhere no one would find them? The truck had been moving slowly and now seemed to be picking up speed.

  There were three distinct noises she could hear—the truck, the almost panicked breathing from Darla and the deeper relaxed breathing from the backseat. She leaned forward and pulled the remaining tape from her skin.

  It wasn’t hard to catch Darla’s gaze, she’d latched on to her again as soon as the light had come on. “Shh,” she whispered. Kylie used her head to indicate for Darla to come closer.

  “Sweetie, I need your help. You’ve got to be very careful and quiet as a mouse.”

  “Okay,” she whispered as well as an eight-year-old could.

  “See that shiny button over there? I need you to get me the knife that’s inside.”

  Darla immediately shook her head.

  “I know you aren’t supposed to play with them, but this isn’t playing. We need to hurry before he wakes up.”

  Darla hesitated and crawled to the glove compartment. Kylie pulled the steering wheel to the right, trying to turn the wheels and getting there inch by painful inch. Talking the little girl through how to release a zip tie...where was she going to get the descriptive words?

  She wished there was a screwdriver, but she hadn’t grabbed one from the garage. Just the very sharp utility knife Darla now had in her hand.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What about the cameras we set up on Main Street? They’ve got to show some traffic. We obviously didn’t stop all the vehicles in and out of town. Grant got through.” Todd gave instructions over the radio to the other Hico PD.

  Bryce was alone in his truck, waiting at the apex of downtown Hico, listening to the radio chatter. All he needed was a direction and he was hightailing it after the Cadillac.

  “When Grant got to the road block we instructed him to stay out of town. He agreed to head to his in-laws’ place.”

  “Where is he? Has anybody had eyes on Grant Fenley? I want to talk with him.” Fred interrupted inserting his own agenda.

  “We’re losing time,” Bryce broke into the conversation. “Every minute that ticks by is another mile she’s away from me. Gone. Got that? Now give me something. Have the additional roadblocks been set up?”

  “Nothing’s come through Meridian. Over.”

  He’d missed them. Trying to catch up with the Cadillac, he’d missed that they’d detoured. “They must have pulled off someplace, changed vehicles and come back through town. Todd, have you got that camera footage yet?”

  “We let five cars past all with families. One semi rig no markings headed northwest. One semi transporting milk headed northwest. And Grant’s red tractor and trailer heading south toward his family’s place. Over.”

  “Somebody better find Grant Fenley. Something’s fishy, Bryce. That red tractor couldn’t be his. I’m looking at the rig he parked at his house.” Fred’s curse words broke off. “I think we need to switch to cells. Somebody’s probably monitoring police frequencies.”

  Dammit. His phone buzzed on the seat next to him.

  “You think Fenley’s in on this?” he asked Fred.

  “Yeah. Do you have enough resources to commit to the roads northwest and south?” Fred’s voice shook.

  “It’ll take time to get additional men and roadblocks. And that’s what they’re counting on. So they’re probably closer than we think.” Then why did he feel like everything was lost?

  “That’s my guess, too.” The older man sounded resigned as if the same lost thoughts had crossed his mind. “Wherever they take her it’ll have plenty of cover, might even be a building.”

  “A building will be more secure. They could switch rigs that way. Got anyplace around here that fits those parameters?”

  “There’s a couple of private airstrips in the area if they’re planning to take Kylie out by plane.”

  “Fred, they don’t need one. Just a field to land a helicopter and a building to hide the truck from the air.”

  “True.”

  Based totally on his gut, Bryce took off to the northwest. “Find Fenley. He’s got to be involved, especially if we can track a rig just like his heading south.”

  “You think that’s where they’ve taken our girls?”

&
nbsp; “I can’t know for sure, but I’m heading northwest. You head south following Fenley.”

  “Then you think it’s a decoy.” Fred sounded reluctant to chase down the least possible route.

  Meaning the older ranger thinks they’re heading this direction.

  “Yeah. Be sure to take Richard with you. I’ll call Todd and have him pin down where Fenley’s wife could have gone.”

  The call to Officer Todd Harris was short and to the point. He was already solving the problem of the missing family. If Fenley had cooked up a deal with the kidnappers it didn’t include his mother-in-law or his wife, who had her laptop tracing Grant’s phone.

  The family used a program showing where they were so the kids could find their dad on a map when he traveled across the country. Harris texted the coordinates. Bryce punched Find and never slowed down. Fenley’s phone was fifteen minutes ahead in Dublin.

  “Fred,” he called. “Did you get Todd’s text?”

  “We’ve already turned around, but we’re probably twenty-five behind you.”

  “I’ll let you know what to expect. If not...”

  “None of that, son. Everybody’s coming out of this safe and sound. No exceptions.”

  Dublin PD were notified to watch the area but hang back until Bryce arrived. The call to Major Parker went as expected. The Rangers had been called in as soon as the Fenley girl was kidnapped. Rangers were on their way from different companies. All headed to Dublin, but none of them would get there sooner than him.

  The sun shone through the windshield. It was a cloudless, deep blue sky. It would have been beautiful if he hadn’t been racing to save the woman he loved. He hated having time to think about what they might be doing to her.

  He had time for one more phone call. His stereo flashed Dialing. There was a gravelly hello through the speakers.

  “Dad? I need a huge favor.”

  * * *

  KYLIE WHISPERED INSTRUCTIONS to Darla, guiding her through sticking the tip of the utility knife in the release square—or whatever it was called—of the zip ties. It wasn’t easy. In fact it was as scary as trying to remain undetected while they got it done.

  The man guarding them remained asleep, but he could have jerked awake with any of the bumps from the truck. Maybe he’d been awake all night or something. It would explain why he never moved when the knifepoint stuck the back of her wrist and Darla gasped an “I’m sorry.”

  With one wrist free, Kylie could work the second one herself. The truck was slowing. Was it just for another small town or would they be opening those doors?

  Hands free, she moved Darla into the passenger floorboard. “Stay quiet and as small as possible. No matter what happens. Promise?”

  “Promise. Sorry I cut you.”

  “You did great,” she whispered, then flipped over, scooted to stretch out until she could search under the driver’s seat for the extra key. The tiny thing had stayed wedged where the seat was bolted to the floor. She slipped the key into the change pocket of her Wranglers, then thought better of it.

  If someone searched her...she stuck the key back in its secure spot.

  It was a long shot, but might get them both out of this mess...or at least be used for bargaining Darla’s freedom. But first, she couldn’t just wait to talk with Xander or even risk that begging for her life would satisfy him. Even waiting for a Texas Ranger wasn’t the smart thing. She had to try to rescue herself.

  She drew a deep breath, sitting behind the wheel. Boy had his gun wrapped between his arms and his chest. He was moving like someone about to wake. And the truck was slowing, turning, slowing more.

  They’d arrived.

  Kylie moved. Climbed. Planted her backside on the top of the front seat with one leg stretched across to the back. She balanced. Breathed. Prepared. She remembered the words of her instructor. Didn’t let the importance of what she was attempting freak her out.

  And most important, she remembered Bryce’s caring touch that calmed her. His confidence made her whole. She had to do this for Darla, for Bryce...for herself.

  The truck inched to a stop.

  At the same moment she placed her boot heel on the man’s throat, she plucked the handgun from his chest. Darla screamed. Boy startled awake, his hands going to her leg. She pulled the trigger over her head. The noise blasted her eardrums and the kickback of the weapon almost toppled her. She regained her balance by throwing both arms toward her captive.

  “Let go of me.” She removed her foot and straddled the seatback.

  The doors opened with at least three guns aimed at her.

  “Get up and get behind the wheel,” she told Boy. If she could get out of the truck and the parking lot, she’d push this guy from the car and just keep driving until she found the police. “Start the car.”

  A slow clapping—just one person—started off to the side and joined the men at the back of the truck. All the men deferred to him. He was definitely in charge. And he was definitely not Xander.

  “Very commendable, Sissy. Or should I call you Kylie now?”

  Well-dressed, but in casual cool for Texas heat. He stood shorter than the rest of the men, so that meant shorter than her. He obviously knew who she was, but she didn’t recognize him. It fit Bryce’s theory that someone unknown to them wanted the car and her.

  “Better think twice about your next move, Kylie,” he said, hands on his hips. “I already have what I want.” He waved his hand toward the Cadillac.

  “Let the girl go and I’ll do whatever you want.” She barely glanced at Darla in the floorboard. “I’ll let your man go as soon as I’m around a corner.”

  This lunatic would never let her drive away.

  “You’re mistaken, thinking I care about either of them. Again...” He waved a finger and the guns were aligned with her heart once more. “I already have what I want. You’re only a bit of insurance.”

  He stepped from the area that she could see and spoke in a low grumble. Two additional men pulled the ramps over to a loading dock. Even if she could get the car out of the semi, she’d be stuck inside some sort of warehouse.

  “What could you possibly want? There’s nothing in this car. We’ve looked.”

  “Did you know that I restored this beauty? I lost her in a spur of the moment bet with your husband. The kind where I drove up in the Caddy and was left on a street corner before I could remove my belongings.”

  “Please just let us go. We have nothing to do with this.”

  “Bring him.”

  Bryce? Her heart dropped. Had he followed them as they left Hico and been caught trying to rescue her? His face was backlit by a warehouse light. She couldn’t tell. The clothes were wrong. Tennis shoes, not boots. Bryce was still out there.

  There was still hope if her ploy didn’t work.

  “I’m sorry, Kylie. They took my family,” Grant Fenley said.

  She might not be able to see his face, but she could see the gun pointed at his head. Without being told she dropped the weapon outside the car and watched it bounce underneath. Boy hopped over the door and she sank onto the seat, extending her arms for Darla to crawl to her lap.

  “Don’t get the idea that you bargained with me, Sissy,” whatever his name was said. “If Xander had treated you the way I suggested, putting you in your place a couple of times, he would never have had you as a problem.”

  What?

  This egotistical bastard thought he could have told Xander how to put her in her place five years ago. So he had been a part of her life back then. More importantly, he knew what was locked in that hidden safe.

  What would happen if he realized the flash drive in the safe wasn’t the right one? How was she going to protect Darla then?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Kylie isn’t heading to Austin. It’s not Xander threatening her, although his involvement can’t be completely ruled out.” Bryce parked the truck as far as he could from the deserted grocery store where the Cadillac had been taken. “Fen
ley is a hostage. There must have been a third gunman in the house who forced him to drive the rig they put the car into.”

  “Wait on us, Bryce,” Fred said over Richard stating something similar. “Don’t rush in there on your own.”

  Kylie’s ex-husband’s path had crossed many times with the man giving the orders on that loading dock. Bryce knew everyone involved in the Tenoreno family dealings. Crime boss Daniel Rosco was considered a family friend.

  Both the only sons of the Texas Mafia. Raised to be cruel and ruthless. He’d seen the file of accusations that should have had this man in prison a decade ago. Rosco’s father had been brutally murdered by an assassin most likely hired by Xander Tenoreno.

  So was this a revenge killing on the ex-wife? Or was something on the flash drive currently in his front pocket?

  “I don’t have eyes on Kylie or the girl yet. I need to get closer to see what’s going on.” And find out if Kylie was okay. He’d heard her name yelled by Fenley, but couldn’t see past the semitrailer.

  “Bryce—”

  He disconnected. There wasn’t any choice. He was the only person who could identify the kidnapped girl and Kylie. The Dublin police weren’t equipped to deal with a hostage situation.

  Hell, he wasn’t either. There was just no choice.

  Reversing the truck, he parked in front of the Dublin cop who became his shadow as soon as he’d hit town. Bryce could swear the young kid barely looked old enough to drive. The local PD had spotted the truck, notified him and retrieved a key to the building from the owner.

  Bryce verified his phone was on Silent and grabbed his weapons. He handed the flash drive to Officer Trent Dawson, who knew enough of the story to copy the files onto his laptop. Bryce was most concerned about the kid opening them and becoming more involved. It was a risk he had to take. The state needed to see whatever was there, but Bryce needed the drive on his person for leverage.

  Trent returned the drive and Bryce issued instructions that would be passed along to the other locals. They’d also be relayed to Fred and anyone else who showed up to help. Then he took off for the opposite side of the storefront, used the key to enter and began to snake his way through the empty aisles, reaching the back hallways to the warehouse.