Cowboy in the Extreme

by Rita Herron

  “I’m on it,” Hollister said.

  Brandon hung up and punched in Andrea’s number. A servant answered, “Meriweather residence.”

  He identified himself as Marty’s husband. “I need to speak to Andrea. This is an emergency.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Woodstock, but Miss Meriweather is out of the country. She flew to Paris yesterday for a fitting for her bridal gown. I believe your wife went with her.”

  Brandon slammed down the phone, his hands shaking. Was he wrong about Marty?

  Maybe. But Marty could have faked the trip.

  Hopefully, Susie had some answers.

  He punched in her number and waited and waited, but the phone rolled over to voice mail. Dammit.

  He heaved a breath, then listened to the recording. She was out of the country, as well.

  Sweat streamed down his face as he paced to the porch and stared out. He had to think. Where would Marty take Lucy? Someplace secluded…

  Not to Baxter’s deserted overgrown property. No, that had been a setup. Marty could have easily bought that land under a dummy corporation’s name, then planned with Boyd to kill Kim and leave her there so no one would find her.

  The thought sent a wave of terror through him, and he groaned.

  Clenching the porch rail with a white-knuckled grip, he inhaled another deep breath. He didn’t have time to give in to his emotions. He had to think. Get into Marty’s head and figure out what she would do.

  She was spoiled, rich, liked nice surroundings. But if she had kidnapped Lucy, that meant she was desperate. Hell, she might have walked off the ledge from obsessive to crazy.

  Think like Marty, think like Marty....

  If Marty had Lucy, she’d want to be comfortable because Marty herself was not the camping/low-rent type. She preferred the niceties in life.

  But she wouldn’t take her someplace where a witness would see her with Lucy.

  No, she’d find a remote location to hide.

  He closed his eyes, his head aching from wracking his brain. Then it hit him.

  If she’d kidnapped Lucy to get revenge on him, she’d take her to a place that had meaning for both of them.

  His mind ticked back to the trips they’d taken, most of them arranged by her or her father. All fancy hotels with servants.

  But a hotel would be too risky.

  Another memory surfaced. For their honeymoon, he’d found a secluded cabin perched on the San Antonio River. It had been far enough from the downtown area and tourists to be secluded, but the cabin itself was plush and cozy and…miles from civilization.

  Brandon had met the owner on a business trip he’d made for Marty’s father, and Marty had surprised him by loving the place. She’d insisted they return there for a romantic getaway last year, wanted them to conceive their child at the special place where they celebrated their wedding night.

  But he had not been in the mood for romance or making a baby.

  Because he hadn’t loved her.

  He’d still been in love with Kim, and now he wondered if she’d sensed that all along. If that was the reason she’d abducted Lucy and led Kim into this trap.

  If so, then they were both in terrible danger.

  His heart racing, he snatched his keys again, jammed his cell phone in his pocket, checked his weapon and jogged outside to the truck.

  He had to get to Marty before she took Kim and Lucy away from him forever.

  A BRIGHT HAZE OF LIGHT blinded Kim as she slowly regained consciousness.

  “Dammit, she’s still alive,” a man’s deep voice mumbled.

  “Get rid of her.” This voice from a woman. “I’m going to take care of the kid.”

  A shudder rippled through Kim as she felt herself being dragged through the dirt. Her head was throbbing, her vision blurry as the light faded and the darkness tried to swallow her again. But she fought it, summoned every ounce of strength and determination she possessed and began to fight.

  She had to find Lucy.

  She kicked at her attacker, swinging at him wildly. One fist connected with his chest, and he grunted, then slammed the butt of the gun against her temple. She cried out, the sting of blood trickling down her forehead into her eye.

  But she refused to give up.

  Grappling for a stick or rock, anything to use as a weapon, she clawed the ground but came up with a handful of dirt instead. She threw it at him, and he cursed, then slapped her across the face so hard her vision blurred. Then he dragged her deeper into the woods. The sound of the river crashing over rocks drifted toward her, and panic seized her. Was he going to throw her into the river?

  Another blow to the head, and she passed out again. When she stirred sometime later and tried to move, her hands and feet were bound and her head throbbed. She screamed and fought to undo the bindings, but the bright light blinded her again. A flashlight. Someone was shining it straight into her eyes.

  “Who are you?” Kim cried. “Why are you doing this?”

  A bitter laugh echoed, a feminine one that sounded shrill as it caught in the wind.

  “You had to come back after him, didn’t you?” the woman snarled.

  Kim tasted dirt as he shoved her into some kind of hole. A grave.

  Dear God, they were going to kill her and bury her out here and no one would ever find her.

  Battling full-fledged terror, she squinted through the blinding light and saw the silhouette of a man and woman standing above her.

  “Where’s my little girl?” Kim cried. “What have you done with her?”

  “Lucy’s fine,” the woman snarled. “But she won’t be your little girl anymore. She’s going to be mine.”

  “No!” She clawed at the dirt, trying to climb from the grave, but the woman kicked her in the face. “Lucy is my daughter,” Kim screamed as she spit blood and dirt. “Let me have her.”

  “You’ll never see her again,” the woman screeched. “And you’ll never have Brandon. He’s my husband, and he and I will have the family I should have had all along.”

  The truth dawned on Kim in mind-numbing shock. “Marty?”

  “Yes,” Marty said bitterly. “You tried to steal him away from me by getting pregnant. But it didn’t work five years ago and it won’t work now. Brandon and I were meant to be together.”

  Kim choked on tears. “When he finds out what you’ve done, that you terrified his daughter, he’ll hate you.”

  “You don’t understand,” Marty shouted. “He’ll never know I had anything to do with the kidnapping. Lucy never saw me, only my partner.”

  Another chilling laugh and Kim realized Marty was unstable.

  “That’s right,” the man said. “Marty and I will get away scot-free with all your money.”

  But Marty suddenly wheeled around and aimed her gun at the man. “Sorry, Boyd. I appreciate your help, but it’s over.”

  “Marty, honey, what are you doing?” the man asked in a shocked tone.

  “This was never about the money,” Marty said.

  The click of the trigger punctuated the night. The sound of the bullet being dislodged followed.

  Kim braced herself for the impact, but realized that Marty had shot her accomplice. She screamed as he collapsed on the ground, and his hand dangled over the edge, fingers outstretched toward her.

  God help her, she had to escape.

  “What are you doing?” Kim cried. “Marty, this is insane. You—”

  “You’re the crazy one for thinking you could steal Brandon back.”

  “Marty, please—”

  “Now you’re going to die, and then I’m going to be the hero.”

  Kim struggled to see if the man was alive, but he lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving. “Hero? But you killed him and kidnapped Lucy—”

  “Like I said, Brandon will never know the details,” Marty shouted. “Once you’re dead, I’ll call him and tell him I discovered one of my ranch hands kidnapped Lucy, that I tracked him down and found her.”

 
; “He’ll never believe you,” Kim cried.

  “Of course he will. I found the kidnapper burying you, so I had to shoot him to protect myself. And there will be no one to dispute my story.”

  “He’ll know,” Kim cried. “He—”

  “No, he won’t. Boyd’s prints are all over the shovel, all over the ropes he tied you up with. I’ll tell them I found you in the grave he dug for you and tried to revive you, but you were already dead.” She laughed again, a hollow, empty sound that resounded with her victory. “He’ll be upset at first, and Lucy will, too. I’m sure. But don’t worry, Kim, I’ll comfort them both. And soon, soon they’ll forget all about you, and I’ll be Lucy’s new mommy and Brandon and I will live happily ever after.”

  Kim shook her head in despair, struggling to free her hands so she could fight, but it did no good.

  Marty aimed the gun at her and fired.

  The bullet pierced her chest and burned a hole in her heart. Lucy and Brandon’s faces danced before her mind, then tears rolled down her face, and the world slipped away.

  BRANDON EASED UP the drive to the cabin, senses alert for trouble. But suddenly a car raced toward him, flying down the dirt road, pebbles and debris spewing from the back.

  The headlights nearly blinded him, and he swerved to dodge the vehicle. Then the car swung sideways and screeched to a stop. His tires chewed gravel, and he nearly slammed into a tree, but managed to stop inches from it. Adrenaline flooding him, he swung the door open and felt for his gun, scrutinizing the situation.

  The car was a black Mercedes.

  Marty’s.

  She threw the door open, her eyes wide with shock as she ran to him. “Brandon, dear God, I was coming to get you. I was going to call you as soon as we escaped.”

  Brandon stilled, his pulse racing. “We?”

  “I found Lucy,” she said, her breath rasping in short pants.

  “What? Where is she?”

  Marty grabbed his hand and hauled him toward the car. When he peered through the glass, he saw his little girl huddled in the back clutching a rag doll, her eyes wide with terror.

  When she saw him, she broke into a squeal and shoved at the door. He jerked it open, unfastened her seat belt and dragged her into his arms. Emotions overcame him, and he buried his face against her sweet, soft hair and rocked her back and forth, his chest heaving with sobs. For a moment, all he could do was hold her, silently thanking God she was alive.

  Her little arms clenched his neck so tightly he could hardly breathe, but he didn’t care. He never wanted to let her go.

  “I wants Mommy,” Lucy cried.

  Her soft cry brought him back to reality, and he swallowed more tears and pulled back long enough to look at her.

  “Lucy, honey, oh, God, I’m so glad to see you.” He searched her face for the truth. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What did they do to you?”

  Her face crumpled. “I was scared, Daddy. I wants Mommy!”

  His gaze flew to Marty. “Where’s Kim?”

  Marty gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Brandon. Kim’s back there in the woods. I tried to save her, but it was too late.” Her words came out clipped, short, breathlessly as if she’d been running from someone.

  “I have to go to her,” Brandon said.

  Marty caught his arm. “No, I told you it’s too late. Boyd Tombs, a man who used to work for Daddy, he shot her.” She reached for him, but he pushed her away, pressing Lucy’s head into his shoulder and holding her tight.

  “Don’t lie to me, Marty. I—”

  “It’s true,” Marty said in a shrill voice. “Boyd used my computer to set up this dummy corporation to buy some land. He was desperate for money, and knew I still loved you so he targeted you. When I arrived, Kim was here, and they were struggling.” She released a noisy breath and folded her arms around her middle with a shiver. “He’d already dug a grave for her body, and he shot her and shoved her in it.”

  “No!” Lucy wailed. “I wants Mommy…”

  An icy chill enveloped him. Was he too late to save Kim?

  He staggered backward and managed to remain standing as he dissected Marty with his eyes. She could be lying. Biding time while Boyd buried Kim and she fed him this bogus story.

  “Shh,” he whispered, trying to soothe Lucy. “Marty, where is Kim?”

  “I told you, she’s in the woods,” Marty said. “I tried to rescue her, but Boyd pulled his gun on me, and I had to shoot him to keep him from killing Lucy.” She reached out a hand, her eyes begging him to believe her. “I couldn’t let him hurt her, because I love you.”

  Brandon’s chest constricted. She sounded so sincere that he didn’t know what to believe.

  But he didn’t intend to leave without Kim.

  He’d built The Woodstock Wagoneer for her. She was the only woman he’d ever loved.

  And he hadn’t even told her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brandon tried to calm Lucy by rubbing her back. “Take me to Kim, Marty.”

  Marty shook her head. “It’s too late, Brandon.” She placed a hand on Lucy’s shoulder as if to soothe her, but Lucy’s fingers dug into his neck as she tightened her grip.

  Panic warred with rational thought as he studied his ex-wife. If she had saved Lucy, then he owed her. But if she had orchestrated the kidnapping and killed Kim, she had to pay.

  He had to know the truth. Play along. If she was the kidnapper, she was cunning and maybe delusional.

  “I don’t care. I have to see her.” He intentionally lowered his voice. “If you really tried to save her, then you’ll do as I ask. Then we can call the police and you can explain what happened.”

  Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she slowly nodded in concession, and the smile she gave him didn’t quite meet her eyes. “All right. I wanted to spare you, but if you insist.”

  Hell, yes, he insisted.

  He gestured toward his truck. “Get in. I’ll drive.”

  “Daddy?” Lucy shivered as he settled her in the backseat. “I’m scared. I wants Mommy.”

  “I know, sugar,” he said, indecision and guilt weighing on him. If Kim was dead, it might traumatize Lucy even more to see her in the woods. But what if Marty was lying?

  What if Kim was hurt and needed help?

  He kissed Lucy’s cheek. “Hang in there a little longer, Lucy. I’m going to find Mommy.”

  He just prayed to God that she was still alive.

  Tension drilled at his neck as he climbed in and started the engine. He glanced over his shoulder and Lucy pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and buried her head against her arms.

  Marty squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry, Brandon. I really am. I know you’ve always been loyal to your friends.”

  And he had been loyal to her when they were married even though every time he’d crawled in bed with her, he’d closed his eyes and imagined making love to Kim instead.

  Had she known it?

  His headlights beamed across the dark path as he wound through the wooded drive. Memories of his honeymoon taunted him.

  Then their anniversary in an attempt to rekindle the romance and make a baby.

  That night he’d known he couldn’t pretend to love her anymore. It wasn’t fair to either one of them to live a lie, so he announced that he wanted a divorce.

  He cut his eyes toward her, but she gave him a sly smile, part sympathy, part coy female, and his instincts roared.

  Had she lured Kim here to kill her because this was the place he’d asked for a divorce?

  The woods shrouded the moonlight and stars, cloaking it in a gloomy dismal gray as he parked at the cabin. Once this place had looked homey and inviting, but now it looked eerie.

  “Why didn’t you call 911 or the sheriff when you figured out Boyd had Lucy?” Brandon asked as he opened the door and pushed himself out. “Hell, why didn’t you call me?”

  “I didn’t know for sure,” Marty said. “So I followed Boyd
here. Then I saw him kill Kim, and I shot him. But I was afraid Boyd might not be dead, that he might kill me, too.” Marty stepped out, her face strained in the moonlight. “All I could think about was rescuing Lucy.”

  “Daddy!” Lucy cried.

  He opened her door, leaned over and hugged her. “Stay here, sugar. I’m going to find Mommy and see if she’s hurt.”

  “I don’t like that wady,” Lucy whispered in his ear.

  Her childish intuition made his spine tingle with apprehension.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, then kissed her cheek.

  He had to move fast. If Kim was alive, every second counted.

  He grabbed a flashlight, then sucked in a breath and headed toward the woods. Marty followed, her low throaty sounds of sympathy grating on his nerves. The wind whistled, shaking trees, and a mountain lion howled somewhere close by. The sound of vultures screeching above made him pick up his pace.

  Brandon waved the flashlight across the ground, aiming it toward the woods. “Where are they?”

  “Over there.” Marty caught his arm, her voice soft. “I’m so sorry, Brandon.”

  He shook off her touch and jogged toward the thicket of trees, then the clearing by the river. But as he grew nearer, his pulse thumped in a sickening rhythm.

  Boyd was lying on the ground, blood soaking his shirt and chest, his limp hand dangling over the edge of a hole. A grave.

  Just as Marty had said, Kim lay inside, bloody and still, her face a stark, milky white.

  Blood soaked her chest....

  A deep shout of protest clogged his throat, and he started to kneel to check on her, but Lucy’s scream ripped through the air, and he spun around. Dear God, she’d followed him and was staring at her mother in shock.

  Marty shifted next to Lucy and put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder to soothe her, and Brandon snapped from his own fog of shock and jumped inside the grave beside Kim. His hands shook as he touched her cheek with his thumb; then he leaned over to see if she was still breathing. With the wind wailing and Lucy’s cries, he couldn’t tell, so he lifted her wrist and checked for a pulse.

  He closed his eyes, praying for a beat, then waited, his heart slamming in his chest. Two seconds passed. Five. Ten. Twenty.