by R. C. Ryan
Now, if only she could take her own advice.
Jake returned from his rounds, tired and sweaty and desperate for a shower and a cold beer. But first he wanted to find Meg and hear firsthand what she’d learned about Cory.
Just as he was stepping down from his truck Everett Fletcher pulled up behind him and climbed out of his police vehicle.
“Got any news, Everett?”
The police chief shook his head. “Some. I wish I had more. Is Meg inside?”
Jake nodded and led the way.
Meg was standing in the kitchen, talking softly with his family, when he and Everett walked in. At the sight of the chief all conversation ceased.
Meg stopped in midsentence to hurry over. “Do you have some news, Chief?”
“We’ve run a trace on your father’s third wife. Judge Bolton said that Porter had asked him to file the necessary papers to legally change her name from Hazel to Arabella. Kirby’s files show that her name had been Hazel Godfrey. She’d presented all the necessary documents before their marriage, but a check on them now shows they were very good fakes. The date of birth had been altered, because she’d been ineligible to be legally married in Wyoming without parental consent. Kirby had no reason to believe they weren’t authentic, and he performed the ceremony in his chambers. The records we’ve uncovered show her to be fifteen at the time of the marriage to your father.”
“Fifteen.” Meg’s breath came out in a long huff of disapproval.
“Kirby thinks that Porter actually believed her when she’d told him she was eighteen. He’d even joked at the time that he couldn’t decide whether to marry her or adopt her. But Kirby said that all joking aside, Porter was obviously in love with the girl. It may have been a May-December affair, but they both seemed happy with the arrangement.”
Meg drew inward, letting all these facts play through her mind. There was so much to take in.
Later, Phoebe announced that dinner was ready and invited the chief to stay and join them, and he accepted.
While the others filled their plates with roast beef, mashed potatoes, and garden vegetables, Meg moved the food around her plate, and sipped great quantities of tea, hoping to soothe her jangled nerves. How could she possibly think about food when Cory was out there somewhere, alone and afraid?
Sensing her nerves, Jake closed a hand over hers and squeezed. She glanced over and caught his gentle smile. Though she tried, she couldn’t return his smile. Her heart was too heavy.
She lowered her head, afraid that at any moment she would break down and embarrass herself by weeping.
Cory wanted to cry. He’d figured that if he just came as he’d been ordered, Blain would take him away, and that would be the end of it. In his heart, the boy had thought it was the right thing to do.
Meg would be safe. That was all he cared about anymore. He was sick of the lies. Sick of the threats. Sick of all the death and pain and misery that seemed to surround him like a dark cloud. He’d thought he could make it all go away.
But Blain had promised, and now he saw that it had been a lie.
It was all just a big mess. And it was his fault. All he’d wanted was to make things better, and all he’d done was make things worse. All of a sudden it didn’t seem to matter that everybody would know the awful truth. Something even worse was going to happen now. Blain was still planning on hurting Meg.
The ropes that were burning into his wrists and ankles, and the fact that poor Shadow was hobbled and miserable, didn’t matter as much as the fact that it had all been for nothing.
He thought about all the things Jake and Big Jim had told him about following his conscience. But they were wrong. Look what had happened. And all because he’d done what he thought was the right thing. But it was all wrong, and it was all his fault.
One big tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and he couldn’t even wipe it away. It rolled down his cheek and dampened the front of his shirt.
He looked at Jake’s hat, lying in the straw beside him.
He wanted Jake right now. He had a sense that if Jake were here, everything would be all right.
He felt a sense of guilt because he wanted Jake even more than he wanted his own dad or mom. But maybe it was only because they were dead and couldn’t help him. Jake was big and strong and alive, and if only he were here…
He sniffled, wishing he could wipe his nose.
Oh, Mom, he thought. I’ve let Jake down. Let Meg down. Let Big Jim down. I’ve let you and Dad down.
He felt like the lowest creature in the world, lower than a worm, for all the trouble he’d caused.
And all because he’d wanted to do the right thing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As he had often in the past, Blain Turner sat in the fork of the tall tree, which afforded him a clear view of the Stanford ranch house. Hidden as it was in the shadows of the forest surrounding it, he was able to see without being seen.
He’d been watching the woman inside now for more than an hour. She was sitting at the table with her back to the window, occasionally lifting a cup to her mouth.
Blain felt a tingle of apprehension. Why was she alone? Especially now that she knew the kid was missing? It didn’t make sense. Where was Jake Conway? Out searching for the kid?
Blain decided to test the waters. He needed to keep her busy at the back door while he slipped around to the front and forced his way inside.
He composed a text.
Go to back door for a note from your brother
When he hit send, he waited to see her reaction.
The woman continued drinking her coffee. As far as he could see, she hadn’t reacted to the delivery of a text to her phone in any way.
Meg was sitting in the great room of the Conway ranch, where the others were doing their best to keep her mind off her troubles. She loved them for it, even though her mind kept wandering to Cory. Where was he? Was he alone? Afraid? Hurt?
Big Jim was relating an amusing incident from his past.
“…driving the herd down from the high country when…”
She heard the ping announcing a text on her phone and snatched it up. When she read the text she let out a gasp.
Big Jim stopped talking. Everyone looked over as she read the message aloud.
“This text says, ‘Go to back door for a note from your brother.’”
“That’s good—,” Cole started to say.
“Oh. No.” Meg covered her mouth with her hand before quickly dialing Raven. As the others gathered around she put the phone on speaker so they could hear.
“Raven, the kidnapper has sent me a text. I’m supposed to go to the back door for a note from Cory. But I’m not there.”
Raven’s tone was firm. “This could be a trick, since none of my operatives reported seeing anyone near your ranch house, Meg. But just in case he’s serious, text him back saying you’ll need a minute to comply. I’ll phone my decoy right now and advise her to go to the back door. If this guy tries to force his way inside, my operatives will be ready for him.”
Meg sucked in a quick breath before texting:
Will do. Give me a minute.
Then she looked around at the others, seeing the concern on all their faces.
She sighed. “Please say a prayer that this is all a trick and they manage to catch him.”
Jake closed a hand over hers and squeezed.
After receiving the text, Blain saw the woman answer her phone and nod her head before setting the phone aside. She sat a few moments before getting up from the table and moving away from the window. Scant seconds later the back door opened and the woman stood framed in the porch light, looking around for the promised note.
Blain tensed. The timing was all wrong. A woman frantic for news of a kidnapped kid didn’t behave like this. She’d have been at the door in the blink of an eye.
He lifted his binoculars and studied the woman’s face. She had red hair and was slim and young. But that was where the similarity e
nded. This woman, clad in simple denims, wasn’t the pretty woman he’d observed in the past. This one was taller. And definitely not a knockout beauty.
Not Meg Sanford, but someone standing in for her in a sting.
He knew a thing or two about how cops worked.
With the high-powered binoculars he began scanning the area around the ranch until he located a man lying in the grass at the top of a hill overlooking the house. Scanning further he spotted a figure crouched beside the barn. Circling back he spied yet a third man at the base of a tree, nearly lost in the shadows.
Satisfied that he hadn’t been spotted, he slid silently from his hiding place in the tree and slipped away into the surrounding woods.
As he made his getaway he felt the hot bile of fury rising to his throat.
Who did they think they were dealing with? Some half-baked amateur?
He’d show them. All of them. And especially the high-and-mighty Meg Stanford. Hotshot, famous trial lawyer, was she? When he was through with her, she’d be reduced to begging for both the kid’s life and her own miserable life.
“Meg. Raven here.”
Meg and the others had waited for what seemed an eternity for some sort of report. In reality it had only been a half hour or so. But the agony of not knowing had them all pacing.
Now they gathered around her phone to hear what he had to say.
“There was no note outside the door. Not that we expected one. We think he was probably watching the house and wanted to shake things up a bit.”
“He managed to do that, Raven.” Meg’s voice was trembling slightly. “Do you think he noticed that the woman wasn’t me?”
“Hard to say. If he was the cowboy at your father’s funeral, he had a good look at your face.”
“What do we do now?”
“He’s holding the cards. We just wait to see what he does next.”
“You’re sure we’ll hear from him?”
“He has Cory. He wants something in exchange. I have no doubt he’ll contact you. Let me know the minute you hear from him.”
She ended the connection and was just about to set down her phone when she heard the ping of an arriving text.
She stared at the words in horror.
It read:
You think you’re so smart. You’ve just signed the kid’s death warrant.
Meg let out a cry before dialing Raven to read him the text. As she did, the Conway family let out a collective gasp.
Jake closed a hand over her shoulder and felt her tremble.
She drew in a breath before saying, “You realize that the decoy you set up has gone horribly wrong.”
“Now, Meg, don’t panic.”
“Raven, your plan just collapsed. Now tell me what Plan B is.”
He sighed. “I have people searching for the boy.”
“Not good enough, Raven. This text mentions Cory’s death. I don’t believe this guy is just playing us.”
“I don’t think so, either. But you have to be patient, Meg.”
“No.” She bit off the word and took several deep breaths before saying, “You can afford to be patient. You’re the professional. But we’re talking about my little brother, Raven. I want you to step back from this and let me try my way.”
“Tell me what that would be.”
“I’m going to text this person and tell him I’ll do whatever he asks. No more decoys. No tricks.”
Raven’s tone held a note of resignation. “That’s what he expects to hear.”
“Then you agree with me?”
“I’ll agree that you should react the way he expects you to. If you text him saying you’ll do whatever he asks, he’ll demand money, and lots of it. And he’ll demand that you meet him alone, with no police.”
“I’m willing to do that.”
“I’m sure you are. As I said before, for you, this is personal. But you pay me to stay one step ahead of the bad guys. And in this case, you have to listen to me, Meg. You go off thinking you can rush in where angels fear to tread, you could ruin everything. Do you understand?”
Meg swallowed. “I understand.”
“Good. Text our guy and let him know that you’re willing to hear his demands, once he proves that Cory is alive and well. Then call me with his response.”
Raven rang off, and Meg looked around at the others. “It never occurred to me that Cory could already be—”
“Don’t go there, Meg.” Jake’s eyes were as hard as flint. “He’s fine. I know he is. But Raven’s job is to think of every angle. Now send the text.”
Nudging aside the nagging fears that swept over her, she composed a short text and read it aloud to the others: “I’ll do whatever you ask as soon as you prove that Cory is safe.”
They nodded their approval as she pushed send.
Seconds later came the kidnapper’s text:
You’ll get proof in an hour.
Jake turned to his father and grandfather. “It sounds to me as though he isn’t with Cory.”
“Right you are, boyo.” Big Jim swore softly. “He needs an hour to use his blasted phone to take a photo. That tells me he’s stashed the boy somewhere. And since he had the boy riding out of here alone, it can’t be too far. I’m betting it’s either on our land or on Meg’s.”
The others nodded.
Meg was already dialing Raven. At his terse greeting she read him the text.
He muttered an oath. “That has to mean he doesn’t have the boy with him.” There was a pause before he said, “I’ll have my men fan out. Maybe they can spot him heading toward a hiding place.”
Jake reached for Meg’s phone and she handed it over.
“Raven, this is Jake Conway. We believe he has to have Cory somewhere on either our rangeland or Meg’s. Anything else would take him a lot longer than an hour to reach.”
They could hear the rustle of paper at Raven’s end of the phone. “My thinking, too, Jake. I’m looking at an overlay of the properties. The trouble is, it’s so vast. And he could have stashed the kid anywhere.”
“Not just anywhere,” Jake corrected. “If you’ll bring your map here, we can point out the places where our herds are grazing. He wouldn’t want to take a chance on having his hideout discovered by our wranglers. So that will eliminate a lot of property.”
Raven’s voice was brisk. “I’m on my way.”
By the time Raven arrived, followed by Everett Fletcher, Phoebe and Ela had made fresh coffee, and the kitchen smelled of sugar and cinnamon from the sweet cinnamon rolls they’d baked in order to stay busy. Even now, they were cleaning, scrubbing, to keep from wringing their hands.
The family gathered around the kitchen table, where Raven spread his maps of the countryside. With Magic Markers they carefully circled all the areas used for spring and summer grazing. They were still marking off sections of land when Meg’s phone announced an incoming text.
The room went deathly silent as they gathered around.
Her phone’s small screen filled with the image of Cory, hog-tied, lying in a nest of filthy straw. His colt could be seen, cruelly hobbled, behind him. Neither the boy nor the horse could move much more than their heads.
Meg’s eyes filled with tears. “How can he do this? What kind of monster is he?”
While Jake placed his big hands on her shoulders, Raven faced her. “He’s desperate, Meg. Desperate for money. And he’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”
Seconds later a text appeared:
Ten thousand dollars. Small bills. I’ll tell you where and when.
Raven’s lips thinned. “Bingo.” He nodded toward Meg’s phone. “Text him back that you’ll need to arrange this through the bank at Paintbrush tomorrow morning.”
When she’d sent the text she looked up. “I wish I could go into town right now and settle this. I don’t care about the money. I’ll gladly give it to him if he’ll free Cory.”
“Of course you will. He’s counting on that. But listen to me, Meg.” Raven�
�s voice was eerily calm. “Once he has what he wants, he’ll need something else, as well.”
She met Raven’s eyes. “What’s that?”
“He’ll need to walk away from this without facing the authorities. He wants to walk free. And that means eliminating any witnesses who can identify him.”
“I’ll give him my word—”
“Not good enough, Meg. He’ll want a money-back guarantee. And there’s only one way of getting that.”
She blinked, before dropping her face into her hands and softly weeping.
Raven looked around at the family standing shoulder to shoulder, ready to do battle for Meg and Cory.
“We need to come up with a plan. Nothing elaborate. Just something that will lead us to Cory in time to save him.”
Cole said grimly, “Big Jim and I can take up our plane at first light. It’s the easiest way to cover a lot of ground and maybe catch a glimpse of this guy and his hiding place.”
Quinn kept an arm around his wife as he said, “Cheyenne and I are trackers. We’ll hit the rangeland at dawn and see if this guy left any sort of trail.”
Josh and Sierra nodded. Josh said, “We can do the same. If we can climb the Tetons, we can certainly hike the hills around here without any trouble. We’ll divide up the rangelands with Quinn and Cheyenne, and stay in touch by phone.”
“That’s all good.” Raven looked at Meg. “But this guy’s going to want you to come alone.”
“I’ll do it.”
Raven nodded. “I know you want to, Meg. But first, there’s the money he’s demanded. A guy like him will want to watch, to see that you actually go to town and withdraw cash from your father’s account. He doesn’t want to open a suitcase filled with shredded paper.”
He glanced at the police chief. “Which means that we ask the state boys to help us keep a watch out for this guy. I’ve already sent his photo to all my operatives, but the fact is, that picture is eight years old. By now he’s probably changed his appearance. He might have grown his hair long, or grown a beard. If he’s been working in the area, he’s probably bulked up considerably. I had one of our artists do a couple of sketches suggesting how he might look now. I’ll have her send them to the state police, as well.”