Cowboy's Legacy (The Montana Cahills)

by B. J Daniels

  He drove on up the road to a spot where he could turn around, his heart in his throat. All his instincts told him that Maggie was in that building. Maggie and Jenna? And Clark Terwilliger? Or was he in Gilt Edge collecting the fifty-thousand-dollar ransom?

  * * *

  “MAGGIE?” JENNA WHISPERED through the vent. “I heard a vehicle but it wasn’t him coming back again.”

  She quickly lay down on the bed beside the old heat vent. “I’m here.” It gave her comfort, the sound of Jenna’s voice through the vent and knowing she wasn’t alone.

  Clark had come back earlier with a burger and fries for her. He’d allowed her to use the bathroom under the stairs. It was small and there was no window, no way to escape. But then, he’d known that, hadn’t he?

  “Daddy has something he has to do. I want you and Mommy to be very good while I’m gone,” he’d said. “When I come back I might have another surprise for you.”

  Maggie had already decided that she didn’t like his brand of surprises. “What kind of surprise?” she’d dared ask.

  “We might be leaving here,” he’d said, but had avoided her gaze.

  She’d felt a tremor move through her. Had he already gotten tired of playing house with them? Surely he wasn’t so crazy not to realize that she was a grown woman, not the child he’d lost. Or had this act been merely to torture Jenna?

  After he’d left her alone, she’d gobbled down the burger and fries. Neither was from a fast-food restaurant, so she suspected, given that he hadn’t been gone long the last time he’d left, that the burgers and fries had come from a café or bar close by.

  At least it was a clue to where they were. Help might not be that far away. Not that she had any idea where she was. She wasn’t even sure she was still in Montana.

  “Are you all right?” Jenna asked now through the vent.

  “I’ve been better, but the food helped. Did he bring some for you?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t want you worrying about me.”

  But she was worried. “He said we might be leaving here.”

  There was no sound from Jenna. Apparently she too worried that the news wasn’t good.

  Now she lay listening to the sound of her heart. Clark had turned off the lights again, pitching them into blackness. She had no idea if it was day or night. It was disorienting if she let herself think about it. Instead she thought about her...parents. “Did you want to keep me?” The words were out before she could stop them.

  “Oh yes. Even with the way it had happened, me getting pregnant, I wanted you. But I was fourteen and there was no way my parents were going to let that happen. I’m so sorry. Was your childhood...awful?”

  “No. Just strange. I understand now why I would catch the woman I thought was my aunt watching me as if she thought I might grow two heads at any moment.” But this wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. “Jenna, you said you had a plan to get us out of here.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  Maggie almost laughed. “Compared to being here with Clark.” She didn’t know him, yet even she could tell that he was going to lose it at some point. Because of that, she could see only one way this would end and it wasn’t with him moving them to somewhere nicer. “Tell me. I’ll do whatever I have to to get out of here.”

  * * *

  FLINT PARKED DOWN the road and quickly dressed in a warm coat, taking the weapons he’d brought but leaving behind the rifle. It would be too cumbersome. Also, if he ran into Clark Terwilliger on the property, it wouldn’t be at a distance.

  As the light began to fade, he walked back up the road and dropped down, trudging through the deep snow as he approached the back of the garage. His breath came out in icy white puffs as he busted through one drift after another. He’d thought about staying on the road longer, but he couldn’t chance that he might be spotted.

  Even with the whirling snow, he figured Terwilliger could be watching. If the man wasn’t in Gilt Edge collecting the ransom, then he could be inside the old roadhouse. It was impossible to know until he reached the garage to see if his van was in there.

  Even as he thought it, he reminded himself that this might be a wet and cold wild-goose chase that would only leave him exhausted and horribly disappointed. A rancher could be using the garage to store his tractor. And yet, when he thought of the tracks into the roadhouse, he felt that shiver of anticipation. Someone had come out several times in the last few days. Not a rancher checking his tractor.

  The wind whirled snow into his face and for a moment he was blinded. He tucked his head down, stopping to let it pass, before he looked up again. He was almost to the garage. Just a few more yards.

  He had the sudden impulse to run in his need to hurry, but it would be a waste of energy in the deep snow. He felt the day slipping away. But he could still see well because of the brightness of the white snow at his feet.

  When he reached the back of the garage, he pulled out his flashlight to peer in through one of the broken windows. He’d hoped to find a brown van sitting in the freezing-cold garage. Instead he saw that it was empty. But it had been used. He could see the tracks in and out. And it had been driven into more than a few times.

  With a burst of hope, he realized that if he was right, Terwilliger wasn’t here now. If Maggie and Jenna were in the old roadhouse alone... Moving with even more purpose, he headed for the back of the building, following fresh tracks in the snow where someone had come and gone numerous times during the storm.

  As he neared the back, he saw that someone had put a new padlock and latch on it. His heart raced. Maggie is in there.

  Flint almost called out her name but it would have been quickly stolen by the wind. Instead, he took out his pocketknife and went to work on the new latch. He could feel time slipping through his fingers. Terwilliger could come back at any time. He could have sent someone else to pick up the ransom. Or maybe worse, had no plan to ever come back. Maggie and Jenna could have been left somewhere inside this building to die. Or already be dead.

  The latch broke. He tossed the lock aside, reminding himself that if Terwilliger did come back, there would be no surprising him. He would see the tracks. He would see the broken latch. He would know he’d been found.

  Flint opened the door and peered in, seeing nothing but cold darkness. He listened. Hearing nothing, he turned on his flashlight and stepped inside.

  * * *

  THE UNDERSHERIFF STARED through his binoculars at the ransom drop spot, worrying it would soon be getting too dark for him to see. He’d tried to call Flint earlier only to find out that he’d left town. Again.

  Where had he gone this time? The DCI had put him on paid leave. He wasn’t supposed to be investigating even though it had become pretty clear who probably had Maggie—and why.

  Still... Worse, this whole ransom demand seemed to be a bust. He lowered the binoculars long enough to glance at the time. The alleged kidnapper was late.

  The drop site was in a city park that had a lot of pine trees. He assumed that was why the alleged kidnapper had chosen it. But it was a rookie move since getting out of the park would be a problem. Right now, there were people watching from houses on all sides. There was no way the person could get away with the money—unless he was somehow missed in the darkness.

  Flint’s brothers Hawk and Cyrus had shown up with the fifty thousand dollars. Mark hadn’t wanted to use that much, but they’d argued.

  “Let’s not take any chances,” Cyrus had said. “My brother is in love with Maggie. He’s planning to ask her to marry him. If this money might save her...”

  Giving up, Mark had taken it, thanked them and started to send them on their way.

  “Look, we know you’re short staffed,” Hawk had said. “Let us help.”

  He’d started to explain that he couldn’t do that, when Cyrus
had said, “You need us. I know you go by the book just like my brother, but this is Maggie we’re talking about.”

  Hawk had agreed. “You need to deputize us. Just for tonight.”

  Mark knew what he was saying made sense. “I’ll tell you what. The drop site is such that I could use eyes and ears from one of the houses across the way. However, I can’t have any heroic crap going down. I can deputize the two of you. But if you see something tonight at the drop site, you call me, understood? No playing heroes.” They’d both agreed, maybe a little too readily.

  But it had all been for nothing, Mark thought as he stared through his binoculars at the bag of money he’d left by the park bench as darkness descended. The alleged kidnapper wasn’t going to show.

  He was about to call it, when he saw movement. He focused in as a person dressed in dark clothing came out of the trees, grabbed the bag and ran.

  * * *

  FLINT TOOK TWO steps inside the old roadhouse, let the door close quietly behind him and stood listening. He heard nothing but his own racing heart thundering in his chest. He let the beam of his flashlight skitter over the worn linoleum floor and saw that he appeared to have entered the back side of the kitchen. Off to his right he could see what was left of an old commercial dishwasher. There were some plates and cups, most of them broken on the floor, and what looked like a menu stuck to the floor under layers of grime.

  To the left was a hallway that led to the dining room. The place was huge, but he’d seen that from the outside. If Maggie was here, she could be anywhere. He moved down the hallway, telling himself he couldn’t be sure that Terwilliger hadn’t parked his van somewhere else. If he was in the building and heard him coming... Or Terwilliger could have gone to collect the ransom and left someone with Maggie and Jenna. Someone who had already heard Flint break the lock to get into the building.

  Flint couldn’t bear the thought of getting this close only to have Maggie and Jenna be killed now. He slowed his footsteps, noticing a women’s bathroom, then a men’s. Someone had left a chair by the women’s bathroom door.

  As he shone his flashlight beam toward the front of the building, he saw an even larger dining room with some random furniture.

  Turning, he almost missed it. There was a third door. He had thought it was a storage room, but as his flashlight beam skittered over the worn floor, he noticed footprints in the dust. His—and someone else’s. The second set of prints had come and gone numerous times. The prints stopped at the third door.

  He tried the knob.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “SHH,” JENNA SAID SUDDENLY. “I think I heard him.” She frowned. “But I didn’t hear his van this time.”

  Maggie held her breath, listening. Above her, she thought she heard a floorboard groan under the weight of a boot. Before that, Jenna had laid out her plan for their escape.

  “Clark might leave the keys to his van in it. Or he might have them on him. You will need those. You’ll have to check his pockets. Once he’s down, no matter what happens, you have to get the keys if they are on him and make a run for it. Do you understand?”

  “No, I can’t leave you here with him, especially after you’ve struck him with something. You said yourself that you doubted you can hit him hard enough to knock him out, possibly not even knock him down.”

  “But if I distract him and you get the keys and run—”

  “Jenna, no. There has to be another way. He’ll...he’ll kill you.”

  “I just have to make sure that you’re safe. That’s all I care about, Maggie. Please, in order for this to work, you have to get the keys and get away. I’m not sure how long I can hold him off.”

  “Maybe if we wait—”

  “We can’t. I know this man. He’s getting tired of this, just like he would have gotten tired of having a wife and child. At some point, he isn’t going to come back. He’s going to leave us here to die. Or maybe worse.”

  Now as Maggie held her breath and listened, she picked up the sound of someone walking on the floor above them and knew Jenna was right. For some reason he was sneaking back here. This might be their last chance because next time might be the last time for both of them.

  * * *

  “EYES PEELED,” MARK said into his radio. “Perp has bag and is on the run.” He quickly texted Hawk, then started his patrol SUV and with lights flashing headed for the park below him.

  He found himself hoping like hell that the man was Clark Terwilliger. If it was just some creep after money... He was almost to the park.

  “Got him!” came a deputy over his radio. “Perp is down on the south side of the park.”

  Racing to that side of the park, he leaped out, seeing that there had been a struggle. One of his deputies was cuffing a man on the ground, but Hawk and Cyrus were both covered with snow and standing over the man. Both were grinning a little too broadly.

  “Cowboys,” he said under his breath with a shake of his head as he approached them.

  He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. As he reached them, he said, “Let me guess. You chased him down.”

  Hawk laughed. “Surprised me that I can still run like that.”

  “But you wouldn’t have been able to hang on to him if I hadn’t helped you,” Cyrus pointed out.

  Mark shook his head, unable to not grin. The county needed its force back and soon. With both Flint and Harp now out of commission... “Either of you know where your brother Flint is?” he asked as he picked up the bag the perp had dropped.

  Both shook their heads, although he got the feeling that they knew more than they were willing to tell him. Where had Flint gone alone? It worried him. He’d worked with the man for years. He knew how determined he could be. With Maggie being the one missing...

  “Come by my office tomorrow and I’ll release your money,” he said to the pair. “And tell Flint to call me when you hear from him.”

  As he turned away, the deputy making the bust lifted the alleged kidnapper to his feet and began reading him his rights. Mark got his first look at the man.

  * * *

  FLINT STOPPED IN front of the door and listened. Still, he couldn’t hear anything over his own pounding heart. The hairs rose on the back of his neck. He turned, half expecting to see Terwilliger sneaking up on him.

  But there was nothing in the hallway except for his snowy boot tracks in the dust. He turned the knob, telling himself that time was running out. If Terwilliger was behind the ransom demand, he could have an accomplice picking it up and could return at any moment.

  The door swung open with a groan. He shone his flashlight down the steps into the basement, noticing the footprints in the dust. A terrible feeling filled him. What if they weren’t here anymore? What if Terwilliger had moved them? That, he realized, would be better than finding them both down there dead.

  He took a step, reminding himself that the man could be expecting him. This could be a trap. The wooden stair groaned under his weight. He took another. He was almost to the bottom before he could see any of the huge basement. He shone his flashlight around what appeared to be a maze of storage crates and boxes, old furniture and garbage bags filled with who knew what. Narrow paths cut through the catacomb.

  As the beam of his flashlight shone to the left, he saw that part of the basement had been closed off with walls—and a door. He moved toward it and tried the knob. As the door swung open, he moved to the side and peered into what appeared to be a 1950s kitchen. Past it, he saw a short hallway and two more doors.

  At some time, people had lived down here? Were still living here?

  Gun drawn, he crossed the kitchen. It smelled of burgers and fries. He was about to try the first door when he heard the sound of a vehicle engine approaching.

  * * *

  MARK SWORE AS he saw who their kidnapper was. He
couldn’t believe he was looking at Johnny Burrows, a former classmate of his. But at the same time he realized he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d watched Johnny’s life go down the tubes over the past few years. First Johnny’s father had been arrested for embezzlement from the construction company in which he’d been a partner. Of course, his father had dragged Johnny into the mess. And finally Johnny had gotten in trouble for withholding evidence in a murder case.

  “I didn’t kidnap anyone,” Burrows said quickly as Mark approached him. “You know me.”

  Mark just shook his head.

  “It was stupid, okay? But I thought...” He hung his head, looking like a man who had nothing to lose. “I just...I just needed money. I was desperate. I thought—”

  “Desperate to get back at the Cahills?” Mark asked. Johnny’s best friend since grade school was Trask Beaumont, who’d just married Lillie Cahill. The two had a falling-out about the time Johnny had been willing to let Trask go to prison for a murder he didn’t commit.

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Johnny said. “It was only about the money. I need the money.” The man broke down.

  He realized he hadn’t seen Burrows around for months. He’d just assumed he’d left town. “Load him into your patrol car,” he told his deputy. He looked at Burrows. “We’ll talk at the sheriff’s office.”

  As he watched Burrows being taken away, Mark fought a wave of disappointment. He had been hoping that they would catch the person who’d taken Maggie Thompson. He’d wanted the person they caught tonight to be Clark Terwilliger. If it had been him, he would be on his way to a cell right now and maybe willing to make a deal to release Maggie and Jenna.

  But in his heart, he had agreed with Flint that the ransom demand was probably some fool hoping to cash in on Maggie’s disappearance. Still, he’d hoped it would help find her and bring her home.