Jake

by R. C. Ryan

  “Shut up.” He dragged her from her horse, tore the shoulder bag from her, and lifted his hands to her shirt. Without warning he tore it open, popping the buttons as he did.

  “Are you crazy—?”

  As the fabric shredded and fell away, the hidden wires were revealed.

  “I knew it.” With a vicious oath he tore them from her and stomped them into the spongy ground.

  When she tried to resist, he slapped her so hard her head snapped to one side.

  “Get on your horse.”

  “My shirt…” She clutched wildly at the torn bits of fabric.

  “You’re lucky I let you keep your bra. And if you open your mouth one more time, I’ll rip that off you, too.”

  He boosted her into the saddle and grabbed up her reins before climbing onto his own mount. As they continued on, her heart fell. She was no longer in contact with Raven and the others. She was completely on her own.

  With a madman determined to leave no witnesses.

  They’d been riding through the dense woods for what seemed like hours when Meg heard the drone of a plane’s engine, and looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Conways’ Cessna. All she saw was a glint of silver through the thick foliage before the little airplane made a slow turn and flew in the opposite direction. Soon the sound of the engine had completely disappeared. For some reason, the silence seemed harder to bear now that Cole and Big Jim had flown away.

  Alone, she thought desperately. She was all alone now.

  She was tempted to leap from her horse and make a run for it, but she was desperate to get to Cory. The thought of that frightened little boy was all that kept her going. She needed to be strong for him.

  Blain slowed their horses to a walk as they picked their way through fallen trees and rocky terrain.

  Up ahead Meg spotted what appeared to be a small wood shack, no bigger than an outhouse. Her heartbeat quickened. Cory. She would see Cory. And whatever happened after that, she would focus all her attention on keeping him safe from this monster.

  The thought had come to Cory when he’d finished crying. He’d been staring at Jake’s old hat, and thinking about Jake, wishing he would come and save him. That was when he caught the glint of Jake’s lucky stone in a stray sunbeam that had slipped through the cracks of the old shack at sunset. With a faint flicker of hope, he’d started nudging himself closer to the hat.

  Even when he was close enough to touch the hat, it had taken an hour or more to work the stone from the band. At first he’d thought he would just hold it. For luck. But then the desire to escape had begun to take shape. What if he could use the sharp edge to cut through the ropes that bound him?

  He’d had to figure out how to position the stone in the hay so that he could rub his ropes over and over the sharp edge. It hadn’t been easy. But a tiny crack in the floor had provided just enough of an anchor to keep the stone from slipping away.

  At first he’d despaired of ever cutting through the rope. But when he’d finally felt that first small bit of fiber unraveling, hope had begun blooming in his heart. This was, after all, Jake’s lucky stone. How could he go wrong?

  The longer he rubbed the rope against the stone, the more he cut himself. His skin burned like fire, and by the time the rope finally gave way, his poor wrists were a bloody mess. But his hands were now free and he grabbed up the stone, working the sharp edge furiously against the rope binding his ankles.

  He had no idea how long he’d been working on his bonds, but he could tell, by the pitch darkness in the shack, that it was nighttime. Blain had said he’d come back after dark, but Cory decided that since Blain had lied to him once, he’d probably lied about that, too.

  By the time bright morning sunlight began filtering through the cracks in the walls and roof, Cory had managed to free himself and was working furiously on the rope that hobbled poor Shadow. Though he was desperate to escape this filthy prison, he wasn’t leaving without his colt.

  And then there was the brace against the door.

  He would worry about that when Shadow was able to stand.

  Blain had heard the drone of the plane and figured it was the state police. He expected to see plenty of frantic police activity in the next couple of hours. That was why he’d moved so quickly. He needed to get the money, grab the kid, and use the woman to carry the message that unless the police kept their distance, he’d waste the kid.

  That ought to stop them long enough for him to get clean away.

  He’d already stashed the truck less than a mile from here. Nobody would be looking for it, since it belonged to an old rancher who never knew what hit him. As always, Blain had found the perfect mark. A bachelor with no family and hardly any visitors. The old geezer could be dead for weeks before anybody found him. And even then, they wouldn’t be looking for an old stake truck when there was a newer pickup truck parked in the barn right alongside the body.

  He slid from the saddle and turned to Meg, hauling her roughly from her horse. When she lost her balance and fell to her knees he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her upright.

  With his hand digging into her shoulder he gave her a shove and she staggered ahead of him toward the shack.

  The door, though still padlocked, was swinging open on one rusty hinge.

  Blain swore viciously and flung the door wide, filling the space with light.

  The little shed was empty. A trail of blood spilled across the floor and out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The little bastard!” Blain was in a full-blown fury. The look on his face had gone from incredulous to mind-numbing rage in the blink of an eye. “If he makes it home, everybody will know about this place.”

  Blain saw Meg look hopefully toward the door.

  “Don’t even think about making a dash for it.” He used a booted foot to kick her backward into the dirty straw. Picking up the bloody ropes that had bound Cory he began tying her hands behind her back. When he was finished he leered at her torn shirt, revealing a lacy bra and a great deal of bare flesh. “Too bad there’s no time now. But maybe later.”

  He saw the way she shuddered and threw back his head and laughed. “Guess you’re not so high and mighty now, are you, counselor?” His laugh turned into a sneer. “You’re all the same. Strip away the fancy clothes and fancy titles, and you turn into weak little crybabies.”

  Meg sucked in a breath as he pulled the ropes as tight as possible, determined to hurt her, before getting to his feet. But his words had strengthened her resolve to show no weakness. Though the pain of her bonds was another jolt to her already overcharged system, she refused to cry or let him see just how desperately afraid she felt.

  He emptied her shoulder bag and checked the money. When he saw the pile of tens and twenties, he stuffed it back into the bag and smiled. “At least something’s going right. Now we have to get out of here and fast. And since the brat managed to escape, it looks like you’ve just become my insurance.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s a good one. The big-shot lawyer has just become my stay-out-of-jail card.”

  Jake read Raven’s message, which had gone out to everyone involved in the operation.

  All contact with Meg Stanford has been severed. It can only mean the wire was discovered. She and the boy are now at the mercy of a desperate criminal. We believe Blain Turner to be armed and dangerous. Proceed with extreme caution.

  Raven’s words had him desperate to find Meg and Cory.

  He came up over a hill, his gaze sweeping from one side of the pasture to the other. He noted the dense woods and decided to ride closer. It could hide any number of wooden structures.

  Before he could follow through on his intention, he caught a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye.

  Was that a horse up ahead just cresting that ridge? He urged his own mount into a gallop, and as he made it to the top of the next hill he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Shadow. There was no mistaking the colt. And on his back,
Cory.

  He knew there was no sense shouting. The boy and horse were too far ahead to hear, and they appeared to be riding like the wind. Urging his horse even faster, he began to slowly catch up.

  As he came up even with the colt he reached over and grabbed the reins. Cory looked over, pale as a ghost, and seemed about to fight until he recognized Jake.

  From the other side of the hill came a flurry of horsemen, and as Jake slid from the saddle and gathered Cory into his arms, he and the boy found themselves surrounded by Meg’s wranglers, with Yancy Jessup in the lead.

  “Where’d the boy come from?” Yancy remained in the saddle, staring down at them in surprise.

  “I just spotted him.” Jake felt the boy’s small body shaking with nerves, and sought to soothe him by running a hand over his head and back. “It’s okay, Cory. You’re safe now.”

  The boy continued clinging to Jake’s neck as though attached by Velcro.

  Gently Jake eased Cory’s arms from his neck and stared down into his eyes. “Was Meg the one who freed you?”

  Please, he thought, let it be so.

  Cory shook his head, dashing any hope. “I spent all night working on my ropes. I just got free now.”

  “Then you haven’t seen Meg?”

  “Isn’t she with you?”

  “She’s with Blain Turner.”

  The boy’s eyes went wide with horror. “He promised not to hurt her. But he lied. He lied.”

  “Cory, listen to me.” Jake closed his hands over the boy’s upper arms, seeking to still his protest. “If Blain doesn’t know that you’ve escaped, it stands to reason that he’s taking Meg there right now. Can you take me to the place where you were being held?”

  He could see the sheer terror on Cory’s face, and it pained him to force the boy back to that place again. But it had to be done. And quickly.

  Cory swallowed. Nodded. “It’s not far.”

  As Jake and Cory pulled themselves into their saddles, Jake turned to Yancy. “Do you have weapons up in the hills?”

  The old man nodded. “Up at the bunkhouse.”

  “I need you to get all you have and follow our trail.”

  As he wheeled his mount, Jake called his father on his cell phone.

  At the sound of Cole’s voice Jake said, “No time to explain. Cory escaped. He’s taking me to where he was held, since I believe that’s where Blain is headed with Meg.” He gave his father the approximate location, then ended by saying, “Call the others. Get them here right away. Especially the state police and Raven’s people.”

  “It’s in there.” Cory brought Shadow to a halt and pointed toward the dark, dense woods. From their vantage point in the sunlight the forest seemed even darker and more menacing than ever.

  “Good boy. I want you to stay here with the horses. If you spot Blain coming this way, ride as fast as you can toward Yancy and the wranglers. And make sure you take my horse along, so Blain has no way of escaping, except on foot.”

  Cory’s eyes were wide. “But aren’t you going to stop him, Jake?”

  “I will. Or die trying.” Jake slipped his rifle from the boot of his saddle, wishing he had a handgun. He handed Cory the hunting knife he always carried. “Keep this with you. Just in case.”

  He turned away and started into the woods. Within a few hundred yards he spotted the shed. As he crept closer he could see that the door was wide open. There was no sign of life.

  He inched close enough to see that the shed was empty. He was too late. A wave of bitter disappointment washed over him, filling him with a sense of dread.

  He was about to turn away when a sound alerted him that he wasn’t alone. Taking aim with his rifle he started forward.

  When Jake was halfway there Blain stepped out from behind the shed. He was holding Meg in front of him like a shield. He held a small, shiny pistol to her temple.

  “Well now.” Blain’s voice was oddly high-pitched with excitement. “Looks like I’ll get a chance to test my little ticket right here.” He waved the handgun. “Toss the rifle, or—” he gave a shrill, mad laugh “—you know the drill, don’t you, cowboy?”

  “Don’t, Jake.” Meg’s voice trembled. “He’s lying. You can’t trust him.”

  “If you listen to the smart counselor here, she’ll get to die before your eyes.” He tightened his arm around her neck, cutting off her breath. “Or you can be smart and do as you’re told.”

  Jake saw the way Meg clawed at Blain’s arm, which only caused the gunman to tighten it even more until she went limp.

  Tamping down on the fury building inside him, Jake tossed his rifle.

  Blain loosened his grasp, and Meg began coughing and sucking air into her starved lungs.

  “Stay strong, Meg.” Jake’s words, spoken softly, had her lifting her head to look at him.

  “Ah, now, isn’t that sweet?” Blain laughed. “She’d better stay strong. She’s going to need all the strength she can find. This pretty little counselor and I are heading to Canada.”

  Jake glanced around. “By horseback?”

  “Truck,” Meg said. “He claims he stashed it a mile from here.”

  “Where’d you get the truck?” Jake was desperate to distract Blain by getting him to talk.

  “Borrowed it from a rancher who didn’t have any use for it. Since he’s dead.” Blain couldn’t help boasting. “Speaking of dead…” He gave Meg a rough shove that had her dropping to one knee. “Kick that rifle over here.”

  With her hands bound behind her back, Meg stumbled to her feet and kicked at the rifle.

  Jake waited until Blain bent over to retrieve it. Using that moment of distraction he shoved Meg out of the way and made a dive for the gunman.

  His timing was a second off. Blain’s gun fired just as Jake reached for his hand.

  Blood spurted from Jake’s shoulder. Fighting the pain, Jake knocked the pistol from Blain’s grasp. It fell to the ground and the two rolled over and over, fighting for control of his weapon.

  Cory heard the sound of the gunshot and his little body jerked in a spasm of terror. Had it been Jake’s rifle discharging? Or Blain’s gun?

  He stood perfectly still, frozen to the spot, unable to go or to stay.

  If he went into the woods and only Blain was left, he’d be walking right into a trap. But how could he stay here without knowing whether or not Jake and Meg were alive?

  In the end, his worry about Meg and Jake overcame the very real terror he was experiencing at the thought of facing down Blain Turner yet again.

  Tethering the horses to a nearby tree limb, he stepped into the woods and made his way toward the shed, the one place he’d hoped to never see again.

  Chief Everett Fletcher was with the state police when the call came through from Big Jim Conway that Cory was safe and leading Jake to the place where he’d been held.

  “Jake shouldn’t go in there alone.” Everett was shouting into his phone, to be heard above the sound of the police helicopter.

  “You know there’s no stopping him,” Big Jim said. “Where are you, Chief?”

  “Heading toward the south pasture. Our copter should be there in about five minutes.”

  “We’re over the spot now, and ready to land.”

  “Wait for us,” Everett shouted, but the line had already gone dead. Not that he’d expected Big Jim or Cole to acknowledge his order. The Conway men had always played by their own rules. Why should this time be any different?

  He turned to the pilot to relay the destination. Then he leaned forward to watch as they began their descent.

  After getting word from Big Jim, Quinn and Cheyenne turned their ATVs toward the pasture between Conway land and Stanford land. Along the way they picked up Josh and Sierra, and the four of them fairly flew across meadows alive with wildflowers.

  It seemed incongruous that such a serene, peaceful meadow could be the setting for violence.

  When they came to the spot where Cory had tethered the horses, they turn
ed off their engines and looked around for some sign of life.

  Just then the Cessna circled once and came in low and fast for a clean, easy landing in the pasture. Minutes later Cole and Big Jim came rushing toward them.

  “Where’s Cory?” Big Jim demanded.

  “Not here.” Quinn pointed to Shadow. “But his colt is here. And so is Jake’s.” His eyes narrowed. “I say we head into the woods and see if we can find them.”

  “I’m right behind you.” Josh turned to Sierra. “You and Cheyenne stay here with the vehicles.”

  “Oh, right. Like that’s going to happen.” Tight-lipped, Cheyenne strode behind her husband, and Sierra followed suit. With Cole and Big Jim taking up the rear, they marched single file into the dense woods.

  Minutes later, Yancy Jessup and his wranglers came riding up, bearing weapons. They tethered their horses beside the Cessna and started into the woods.

  Jake and Blain were fighting for their lives. With every bone-jarring blow, they poured themselves into it, knowing only one of them would walk away.

  Both men were lean and tough from their years of ranch chores, but the wound to Jake’s shoulder was taking its toll, draining his strength.

  What Blain lacked in muscle he made up for in determination. He was desperate, and he knew that every minute counted. If he didn’t soon break away, the authorities would catch up with him.

  Aloud he shouted, “They’re never taking me to jail. Never. Even if I have to die in this godforsaken wilderness, I’ll fight you to the last breath, Conway.”

  The toes of his work boots were steel, and he knew how to use them. Launching his booted foot he kicked Jake as hard as he could in the groin. With Jake doubled over, he moved in for the kill. As he knelt in the grass and fumbled for his pistol, Jake brought his head up directly into Blain’s face. The sound of bone on bone had Blain moaning in pain as his broken nose became a fountain of blood.

  Jake followed that with a fist to the jaw that had Blain slumping backward.