Dale McGowan did look like Lana, but even in her picture, Dale lacked Lana’s vitality and spark. Having met Lana once, you’d never mistake her identity—or forget her.
Could he forget Lana? He’d have to find a way once he left this town, once he found out everything he needed to know about Major Denver’s presence at the embassy outpost in Nigeria. He could at least help Lana reach some closure over her brother’s death.
As he sat up and tugged at his first boot, his cell phone rang. His heart rate accelerated when he saw Lana’s number on the display. Had she been thinking about him, too?
“Lana? Is everything okay out there?”
“No. I received a text from Dale’s phone. I don’t know if the message is really from her or if her captors typed it in for her, but it said if I don’t turn over Gil’s journal, I’m going to die. They’re threatening Dale’s life, too.” She ended her sentence on a sob.
Logan’s fingers curled around the edges of his phone in a tight grip. “Did you notify the police? Are they still at the house?”
“I did not tell the police. Dale, or whoever, warned me not to tell the police or she’d be dead. I can’t have that on my conscience. It’s already my fault that Dale is in danger.”
“It’s not your fault.” He wiped a hand across his brow. “Did you explain that you didn’t have the journal?”
“I tried to tell them that—as much as texting would allow—but I’m not sure they’re buying it. I also tried calling Dale’s number but nobody answered.”
“You can’t give them what you don’t have, Lana. You need to go to the police and hand over your phone. If Dale’s phone is still active, they can triangulate her location.”
“If the police come in with lights blazing and sirens wailing, Dale isn’t going to make it out alive.”
“The people who took Dale are not going to want a bunch of local police or the FBI on their tail over a mistaken kidnapping. They messed up big-time by snatching Dale and now they’re trying to use it to coerce you into cooperating with them.”
She made a strangled sound across the line. “They’re doing a great job.”
“I know you’re scared, but think logically. You have nothing to give them, so you can’t save Dale, anyway. Also, I know it sounds callous, but Dale is not family. It’s not your responsibility to save her—and they know it. They’re not going to gain anything by harming her...or even threatening to harm her.”
She huffed out a breath. “That’s not logical at all. I would save a stranger from harm if I could and Dale’s no stranger.”
“You just said the magic words—if you could. You can’t. You don’t have the journal. The best thing you can do right now is notify the police while Dale’s phone is still hot.”
“And if they kill her?”
Logan stood up and paced toward the window of his hotel room. “They’re not going to kill Dale, and you couldn’t stop that even if you wanted to turn over ten of Gil’s journals. You don’t have the one they want. No threats are going to change that.”
“All right. I don’t know if Jacobs and Zander are still at the big house, but I’ll call the station and let them know what I have.”
“I think that’s the best move at this point.”
“What should I text back to the kidnappers?”
“What was your most recent response to them?”
“I had just repeated that I don’t have any journal.”
“Good. Leave it at that, and the next move is theirs.”
“I just hope their next move isn’t killing Dale.”
When Lana ended the call to him to contact the Greenvale police, Logan sat on the edge of the bed with the phone cupped between his hands.
He hoped their next move wasn’t killing Lana.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Logan grabbed his phone to call Lana when he finished dressing. She’d called him back last night to let him know she contacted the police and they had already started tracking down Dale’s cell. She hadn’t received any more text messages from Dale’s phone and all further attempts to text or call her phone had failed.
After the flurry of texts between Dale’s phone and Lana’s, Dale’s had been turned off.
Now the police wanted to see Lana’s phone and those text messages, and Lana wanted Logan to go with her to the station. Whether she wanted to keep him in the loop or she wanted a bodyguard or she felt safe with him—he didn’t care. He just wanted to be with her, and he wasn’t examining his own motives too closely, either.
Her voice was breathless when she answered on the second ring. “Are you on your way?”
“Just about to leave the hotel. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just cooking the boys some breakfast for their all-night stint in front of my place. They look like hell.”
“Keep ’em close if you can until I get there.”
“It’s daylight. The ranch is busy, and I feel perfectly safe. Oh, and the police are back—a detective, Detective Delgado, this time who’s questioning the kids and Bruce again.”
“Can you turn over your phone to him?”
“The police want me to take it to the station. You’re sure you don’t want me to pick you up at your hotel on my way to the station? That would make more sense than driving back and forth.”
“I’m okay with driving back and forth.”
“Got it, Tex.”
He smiled into the phone as Lana ended the call. Surprisingly, nobody had ever called him Tex before. As corny as it was, he liked it.
He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, slid his phone into one pocket and his gun in the other. The idea that someone plotted to kidnap Lana to get Gil’s journal filled him with an icy dread. Just because they’d messed up and grabbed the wrong pretty Latina didn’t mean they were going to stop.
They’d try again and again until they got the right woman—and that’s what he planned to stop. If he and Lana could find Gil’s journal and get it into the hands of the right people—people who would investigate the subterfuge going on at that outpost, people who would look into Major Denver’s presence there—Lana would be safe and he’d be that much closer to clearing Denver’s name.
After last night, the former had become just as important as the latter.
Logan left the city and breezed through the farmlands of the San Joaquin Valley on his way to McG Ranch, no shortage of country music stations on the radio to keep him company. He even spotted a sign for an upcoming rodeo. These areas outside Greenvale took their cowboy culture seriously.
As he hit the last, long, lonely stretch of road to the ranch, he knew he’d made the right decision to come out here and collect Lana for the trip back to the police station. Anything could happen on a road like this.
He made the turnoff to the ranch road, his little rental bouncing and kicking up dust along the way. Had he known when he arrived that Lana lived so far outside the city limits, he would’ve rented a four-wheel drive.
A hulking presence awaited him at the ranch’s front gate, and Logan powered down his window and stuck out his head. “I’m here to see Lana Moreno. I’m a friend of hers.”
The man shifted his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, took a step back and squinted at the car’s license plate. “I got you.”
He unhitched the gate and swung it wide.
Lifting his hand, Logan rolled through. At least McGowan had taken some precautions, even though he didn’t much like the look of the guy on guard.
He approached the clump of trees that hid Lana’s house from view. Those trees probably saved her last night, but he had no doubts that Dale’s abductors knew all about Lana’s living situation now. Dale McGowan would have self-preservation on her mind instead of Lana’s safety, and he couldn’t blame her for that. She had two kids waiting at home for he
r.
Logan parked and jogged up the two steps to the house.
When Lana swung open the door, the scent of maple and bacon wafted from the small kitchen. He inhaled deeply. “Smells like heaven.”
“Are you hungry?” She gestured to the two men sitting at her kitchen table. “These two have been trying hard, but they haven’t been able to completely finish off everything.”
“I wouldn’t mind some breakfast.” Logan nodded to Humberto and Leggy, who were seated before their empty plates.
As soon as Logan sloughed off his jacket, the two men rose and stretched in unison. Humberto, the more talkative of the two, reached for his hat and coat. “Thanks for breakfast, Lana. We’ll be getting back to work now.”
Lana flipped a towel over her shoulder and wedged a hand on her hip. “Oh, I see how this is going. The second shift just showed up, so you guys can finally leave.”
Looking down, Leggy grinned and nudged the table leg with the toe of his boot. “Nah, we were really hungry.”
“Well, I really appreciate it—everything—and if Bruce gives you any trouble about starting work late send him to me.”
“Oh, Mr. McGowan’s too broken up about Dale’s kidnapping to pay much attention to the ranch right now. Right, Leggy?”
Leggy snorted and punched Humberto in the back as they left Lana’s house.
“I guess everyone knows about the McGowans’ troubles, huh?” Logan pulled out the chair Leggy had just vacated.
“Yeah, and it’s more than that.” Lana swiped the place mat from the table in front of Logan and replaced it with another. “Humberto is Dale’s half brother.”
“Keeping it all in the family, I guess.” Logan rubbed his hands together as Lana set down a plate loaded with eggs, bacon and potatoes.
“Toast? Coffee?”
“A cup of coffee, please, but I can get it myself.” He started to push back his chair from the table.
She pressed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m already up and I need a refill myself.”
When she sat down across from him, she put two coffee cups on the table and placed her cell phone next to his plate. “Do you want to see my communication with Dale?”
“Absolutely.” He wiped his bacon fingers on a napkin and picked up her phone. “Even if this was Dale typing the messages, they were probably telling her what to text.”
Lana’s dark eyes grew round over the rim of her coffee cup. “If they were just using her phone to reach me, maybe they had already...hurt her.”
“They have no reason to hurt Dale. Her husband doesn’t have anything they want—you do. As long as the kidnappers kept their masks in place and Dale can’t ID them, she’ll be safe. Like I said before, these guys don’t want the local police and the FBI coming down on them for a murder they didn’t even need to commit.”
“Do you think the police can get something from my phone?”
“Not sure.” He bit into another piece of bacon, the maple flavor filling his mouth. “You told me they got Dale’s number from Bruce and started trying to ping the phone, even before you received the texts.”
“I hope they were pinging it while it was still on because it’s off now.”
“I guess we’ll see.” Logan finished his breakfast while Lana sipped her coffee.
When he was done, he joined Lana in the kitchen. He bumped her hip with his as they stood in front of the sink. “Let me clean up.”
Lana raised one arched brow at him. “You know how to do dishes?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I live by myself most of the time. Someone has to do them.” He plunged his hands into the warm, soapy water to make his point.
“Most of the time? Do you ever stay at your family’s ranch?”
The slick glass nearly slipped from his hands. “You know about my family’s ranch?”
Color rushed from her throat to her face. “I—I thought I’d better do a search on you...in case you were an ax murderer or something.”
His chest tight, he rinsed out the orange juice glass and held it out to her. “Dishwasher?”
“Everything goes in the dishwasher except the two frying pans, the mixing bowl and the large utensils.” She pulled open the door of the dishwasher and took the glass from him. “Your parents’ ranch?”
“I’m there sometimes, not on every leave.” The fact that Lana had researched him and had found out about the ranch, one of the biggest cattle ranches in Texas, left a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t like people judging him before they got to know him. He scrubbed a pan with the dish sponge. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Lana opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. She kept her lips pressed into a straight line as she loaded the dishwasher with the dishes he’d scraped and rinsed.
If he poked her, she’d split at the seams. She wanted to ask him something, make some kind of point, but for whatever reason wasn’t ready to unload yet. If he knew anything about this woman after being acquainted with her for about twenty-four hours, he knew she’d get around to it sooner or later, but for now he’d take later.
With the kitchen clean and words still unsaid, they put on their jackets and left the house. They stood on the porch while Lana locked up and Logan peered between the branches of the trees that created a semicircle around her house. When she made a quick turn back toward the door, his pulse ratcheted up a notch.
Had something spooked her?
“Do you mind if we take my truck?” She’d shoved the key in the lock. “I need to pick up a few things and your car is not going to work.”
“Yeah, sure.” His heart rate thumped back to normal.
Lana dived back into the house and returned jingling her keys. “Ready.”
Logan held the driver’s door open for her and then went around to the passenger side, his nerves still jumpy. She hadn’t been off the ranch since the kidnapping. He didn’t know what awaited her out there.
She put the truck in gear and they bounced along the road to the gate.
The same man who’d been there when Logan drove through hopped off the fence and touched the rim of his hat before swinging the gate wide to accommodate Lana’s truck.
She flicked her fingers at the man and then gunned the engine of the truck, which caused the tires to kick up some dust.
A smile played about her lips as she looked in the rearview mirror.
“Not a friend of yours?”
“Jaeger, one of Bruce’s most loyal ranch hands—the most loyal. He’d do anything for Bruce.”
“Including his dirty work?”
“Exactly. How’d you guess?”
“I figured there had to be a good reason why you didn’t like the man.”
“Lots of ’em.”
The truck made one last bounce before hitting the paved road, and Lana straightened the wheel. “I made a call this morning to find out if there were any more boxes coming from Gil.”
“Are there?”
“Nobody seemed to know.” She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Nobody seems to know much of anything.”
Including him. Logan stared at the road in front of them, and then grabbed the dashboard with two hands.
“Lana, slow down. Do you see that up ahead?”
She eased on the brake. “I-it’s a person—by the side of the road.”
Logan’s nostrils flared as his instincts kicked into high gear. Anything unusual now had to be suspect—and a person by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere was suspicious.
“Oh, my God, Logan. It’s Dale.”
He grasped the door handle. “Slow, slow, slow.”
Lana brought the truck to a crawl as they approached the crumpled figure on the road’s shoulder. She threw the gearshift into Park and reached for her door.
“Stop, Lana. Don’t get out.”
&nb
sp; “What do you mean? I’m not leaving Dale like roadkill.”
“You stay in the truck and keep your head down.”
Her head jerked toward him, her dark eyes glassy. “Why?”
“Why did they leave her here? A whole stretch of highway with clear views almost to Greenvale and they dump her off at a curve in the road with a stand of trees. She comes crawling out of the trees precisely when your truck turns up.” He put his hand on her arm, vibrating with fear. “Humor me and slump down in your seat. I’ll get Dale.”
Lana powered back the seat and tipped over to the side, almost flattening herself across the bench seat.
Logan slid out of the truck, his hand on the weapon in his pocket, his heart pounding. He’d been in ambushes before, and this looked like an ambush—with bait and everything.
Hunching forward, he jogged toward Dale McGowan, curled into a fetal position. He kneeled beside her and touched her battered face, once almost as beautiful as Lana’s.
“Dale, you’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here.”
She peeled open one eye, her lashes caked with blood, and mumbled through her swollen lips. “They’re here...and they want Lana.”
As the last syllable hung in the air between them, the bullets started to fly.
Chapter Six
At the sound of gunfire, Lana pressed the side of her face against the passenger seat, her fingers digging into the cloth. They were out there, and they meant business.
She covered her head with one arm. They hadn’t started shooting into the truck yet, and it was still idling. Had the bullets hit Dale or Logan? A scream gathered in her chest.
They had to be shooting from the left. The right side of the road offered no cover for them. That meant Logan and Dale were exposed.
Lana’s feet scrambled, reaching for the brake pedal. Then she reached up and shifted the truck into gear. She eased off the brakes, sending the truck forward in slow speed.
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