by Dee Stewart
The detective frowned. “So, you suspect they may have tried to kidnap her before?”
“That’s my guess.”
“Are there security cameras around the clinic?”
“Yes. We had them installed after Devon was attacked by a drug addict.”
“Jesus,” Jack muttered.
“How long ago was that?”
“A couple of months.”
Detective Kennedy called a sergeant he knew in the cyber department. “Hey, will you pull up security camera footage from the Barrington-Brooks clinic? I need whatever you can get.”
He turned his attention back to searching for more information on Harry Walton and made another call. “Well, what do you know? I just spoke to my CI. Looks like your guy is involved with a nasty character named Digger Sharpe. I’ve been investigating him for months. Not only is he a ruthless loan shark, but he’s got a hand in other organized crimes, too. Money laundering for one. Sex trafficking for another. Problem is, witnesses keep disappearing or ending up dead, so we’re having a difficult time building a case against him. Harry’s in deep for thousands of dollars to Sharpe. Maybe we can use him to help us finally arrest this guy.”
Reed swore. “I should have fired him the moment he told me about the barfight.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. He would have kidnapped Dr. Brooks, regardless. Digger Sharpe doesn’t mess around. Harry needs money fast. Or he may try to bargain with Sharpe.”
“What does that mean?” Jack asked.
The detective looked Jack straight in the eye. “You don’t want to know.” He rose from his chair. “Look, return to the ranch. See if Walton and Brown are there. Call me immediately if they are but don’t let on that you suspect them. In the meantime, I’m going to try to track their cell phones. If they’re not at the ranch, I’ll send officers out to search the bunkhouse. I assume they live on the premises?”
“Yes, Detective,” Reed answered.
“Good. I’ll also assign cops to question their family members and friends. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find out where they have taken Dr. Brooks.” He met their concerned gazes. “Don’t worry. We’re going to catch these guys. If they contact you with a demand for money, let me know.”
Reed promised, and he and Jack left the station. As they settled in Reed’s truck, he asked, “Where can I drop you?”
“Oh, you’re taking me to the ranch. I’ll be your guest until we find my ex-wife.”
Reed rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”
“Nope. I’m your shadow. When we get to the ranch, let’s check out the bunkhouse for those two goons who nabbed Devon.”
“As if I needed to be reminded,” Reed mumbled.
Jack let out a short, grim laugh.
Devon fought to open her eyes, as heavy as lead. Engulfed in complete darkness and silence, she closed them again and succumbed to the pull of lethargy. Her brain shut down, her senses unable to function.
Time passed. A bright pinpoint of light penetrated the darkness and forced Devon to rouse to consciousness. She blinked at the invasion, and when her eyes adjusted to the light, she focused on her surroundings. She became aware that she lay upon a dirty mattress and that her hands and feet were bound with thick rope. Her heart rate kicked up as she examined her body for signs of sexual assault. Devon’s panic decreased somewhat when she realized her clothes were still intact. So, she hadn’t been violated. A gag prevented her from making any sound other than grunting.
Her gaze traveled around the room. In one corner she spotted a toilet covered in dark masses of filth. Flies buzzed nearby. Devon grimaced in distaste and wondered if there was water in the bowl. She noticed a variety of tools leaning against the opposite wall. They might come in handy if she could free herself.
The tin walls of the shack created an oven under the Texas sun. Her back bore the brunt of the heat behind her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripped into her eyes, and pooled between her breasts. Her pink blouse clung to her skin.
Devon figured she’d been drugged with something powerful enough to knock her for a loop. She still felt groggy. Not knowing how long she’d been unconscious, she started keeping track of time by watching the shadows cast by the sun. The lack of sounds of human civilization indicated she was isolated in the flatlands. This shack was probably used by hunters or ranchers.
Three days into her captivity, by her estimation, she feared she would die without any water. Her tongue swelled in her mouth, and she found it difficult to breathe. Devon’s lips were dry, cracked, and bleeding. Her captors, whoever they were, had not come back. She believed she had been left for dead.
Devon couldn’t bear the oppressive heat. Shifting her position on the mattress, she noticed the sharp ridges of the tin can’s walls. Hope rose in her breast. She could rub her bonds against the ridges until the rope frayed. It took energy she could ill afford to expend, but she began to scrape the rope along the ridges, burning her hands on the hot tin in the process. Desperate for water, she would drink from the disgusting toilet bowl if necessary.
If there was water in it.
She ran out of breath and cried in frustration. Her effort, though, started to pay off when she felt the first few threads break. Adrenaline surged through her, and she rubbed harder and faster, even though blood ran down her hands. Several minutes later Devon cut through the last twist of the rope. Tears of relief poured from her eyes. She removed the gag and took in great gulps of air.
As the feeling returned to her sore hands and she began to untie the rope around her ankles, two men burst into the shack. Devon shrieked, but it came out as a barely audible croak. She kicked aside the rope and prepared to defend herself until she recognized Harry and Smitty. Sagging with relief, she said in a raspy voice, “Oh, thank God, you found me! Please, do you have any water?”
Harry and Smitty grinned at each other. “Uh, no. We snatched ya,” Smitty explained.
Devon stood straighter. At the first opportunity, she would grab the rake she saw earlier. “Why?”
Smitty jerked his thumb toward Harry. “He needs money. We figured the Barringtons would pay a small fortune to get ya back. Seein’ as you’re Shane’s fiancée and fuckin’ his brother and old man Barrington, too. They’ve been stewin’ for four days wonderin’ what happened to ya. There’s another guy who’s anxious to get ya back, too. He’s been hollerin’ and threatenin’ everyone in sight. Especially our boss.”
Jack.
Devon almost burst into hysterical laughter. “You’ve made a terrible mistake. First of all, I’m not Shane’s fiancée. I never was. It was just a scam we were pulling on old man Barrington. He knows about it, so he would never pay to get me back. Your boss hates me, and Shane is glad I decided to leave town. You’re not getting any money from them. In fact, I would wager they would pay you to keep me. I don’t know who the other man is,” she lied.
Harry punched Smitty in the arm. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he hissed. “She’s right. Boss was so mad he tore up the stable. They’re not gonna pay a dime for her.”
“And I told ya we shoulda nabbed the horse!”
Obviously, these were not the brightest criminals who had kidnapped her. “Look, fellas, I have money. I haven’t spent much of it while I’ve been here. All I need is my cell phone, and I can transfer what’s in my checking and savings accounts to you.”
That got their attention. She saw greed light up their eyes.
“We ain’t got your cell phone. We smashed it,” Smitty told her.
“All I really need is a computer, then. Or you can take me to the bank.”
“Oh, hell no,” Harry declared. “They’ve got them security cameras everywhere.”
Devon decided not to tell him about the cameras in Barrington Industries’ parking garage. The cops were probably searching for her. Jack and…Reed, too. “Well, gentlemen, I’m sure we can find a solution to this dilemma. I swear on my baby’s grave I’ll give you every dime
I have if you let me go.”
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but someone else stepped into the shack. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
All three froze. A chill crawled up Devon’s spine. The situation just turned far more dangerous for her. A bald, tattooed, hulking man with a long, forked beard leered at her. He pointed a powerful handgun at them. Recognizing the newcomer, she gasped, “You!”
“Uh, hey, Digger,” Smitty greeted him with a timid smile.
“Shut the fuck up,” Digger ordered. “When you said you were coming into some money, Horseface, I wondered what you had up your sleeve.” He turned back toward Devon. “I warned you. Now you’re up shit creek.”
“Harry and Smitty work for the Barringtons. They’re not going to hurt me. In fact, we were just negotiating, right, boys?”
“Uh, right,” Harry agreed. “Negotiating.”
“You’re messing with my affair.” Digger waved his handgun toward Harry.
“Is that so?” Devon lifted her chin. “Seems like you’re messing with my affair.”
Digger’s cold eyes bored into her. “You’d be smart to watch your mouth.”
“Don’t forget she’s engaged to Shane Barrington.” Harry tried to brazen his way out with a lie.
“So?” His gaze roamed over Devon’s body, and she shivered.
“So, we snatched her for a ransom. But I have a better idea. We’ll sell her to you. A looker like her and a doctor to boot should fetch a handsome price on the black market.”
Digger glanced at Harry, and his eyes widened in amusement at the idiocy of Harry’s offer. “You’re shittin’ me, right? You owe me money, and I’m going to pay you to get it back?” His eyes met Devon’s. “These guys are hilarious.” He fingered his beard. “But I like the idea. I know some interested dealers who will pay a pretty penny for someone with your body and brains. You’ve been a thorn in my side ever since you opened that fuckin’ clinic, so I’ll be gettin’ rid of two problems. One I’m handlin’ as we speak.”
“What do you mean…?” Harry’s voice trailed away when he saw the murderous expression on Digger’s face. He started to shake and held up his hands. “No, don’t…we can work together…she’s worth a lot…”
Smitty’s head swiveled between Digger and Harry. “Oh, hell no. I’m not involved…just tryin’ to help a friend…”
“Too late.” Digger lifted his arm and pulled the trigger.
It happened so fast neither man had time to turn tail and run.
Devon screamed as Harry and Smitty both dropped dead from a single gunshot to their foreheads. She knew from their wide, unseeing eyes there wasn’t anything she could do to help them. Though weak and terrified, she made a valiant effort to save herself by lunging for the rake off to the side, but Digger caught her.
Wrapping his powerful arms around her, he murmured close to her ear, “I think I’d like to sample the merchandise before I sell it.”
Devon wasn’t completely helpless. She jabbed Digger in the ribs, stomped on his instep, and bit his forearm. Fighting like a tigress, she managed to surprise and hurt him enough to wriggle out of his grasp. Heart pounding, blood pumping, she twisted away from him. During the scuffle, he’d dropped his handgun, and they both lunged for it. Devon reached it first.
Without hesitation, she cocked the 9 mm Beretta, aimed, and fired four rounds, two in each of Digger’s kneecaps. Howling in pain, he fell to the sandy floor of the tin shack.
“For fuck’s sake! You shot me!”
Pulling off Digger’s T-shirt, Devon ripped it into strips and fashioned them into tourniquets. “Don’t mess with a military brat. I can shoot a flea off a rat. This should control the bleeding until I can get help.”
She scrambled toward Harry’s body, and, grimacing, she searched his pockets for a cell phone. Her heart lifted when her hand enclosed around one, and she darted past Digger to check for service outside the shack. No luck. However, there were two vehicles at her disposal. She discovered keys in the ignition in the Cadillac and returned to Digger.
“Which way…?”
Devon panicked when she realized Digger had passed out, probably from blood loss and pain. She checked his pulse to be sure. Slow and steady. Not knowing how long it would take to get to a point where she could call for help, and functioning purely on adrenaline, she ran back to the fancy Cadillac that she figured belonged to Digger. Without cell service, she couldn’t access Google Maps, so she would have to find her way out of the flatlands of Texas on her own.
“Head north,” she muttered. “North.” Glancing at the blazing blue skies, she judged the position of the sun and pointed the nose of the Caddy in what she prayed was the right direction.
Then she saw them. Dusty tire tracks.
Follow the trail.
Devon turned the steering wheel and started following the tire tracks. A few minutes into her escape from the tin shack, the landscape disoriented her. She lost her bearings. Everything looked the same. Her energy failed as the adrenaline rush subsided.
Don’t give up.
She grew sleepy.
Don’t give up. You can’t let Digger die. You can’t let your baby die.
Ahead she saw a dust storm. She drove straight into it.
“Digger Sharpe! Stop your vehicle!”
Like an automaton, Devon responded to the disembodied voice of authority. She pressed the brakes, came to a complete stop, and shifted into park.
“Step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air!”
The command snapped Devon back to reality. She obeyed and heard Jack yell, “Don’t shoot! It’s Devon!” Turning toward Jack’s voice, her gaze fell upon Reed. Instinct propelled her into his arms.
Tears tracked dirt down her cheeks as she sobbed against his broad chest. “You found me! Oh, God, Digger planned…planned to… I shot him! He’s in the shack!”
When Reed remained stiff and unyielding, his arms at his side instead of around her, Devon lifted her head and wiped her face with the palms of her hands. “Reed?”
He gripped her upper arms and pressed his forehead against hers for a brief moment before he brushed her lips with his and set her away from him. She swayed on her feet, staring at Reed in disbelief. “Go with Jack.” His voice was like granite.
Devon’s legs buckled beneath her, and she would have fallen to the Texas scrub if Jack hadn’t caught her.
“You fucking son of a bitch,” he muttered as he lifted Devon into his arms. Jack felt her dead weight when she fainted.
“Dr. Brooks needs to be checked out at the hospital,” Detective Kennedy announced, approaching them. “We’ve got two dead bodies, and Digger Sharpe is in serious condition in the shack a couple of miles back.”
Jack carried her to one of two fire rescue trucks that had accompanied the calvary to find Devon and handed her to the EMTs. He climbed in behind her and told the first responders he would check out his ex-wife himself.
Even traveling at top speed with lights flashing and sirens blaring, it took almost thirty minutes for them to arrive at Dallas General Hospital. Asserting his authority, Jack barked orders at the ER nurses.
“Dr. Brooks is severely dehydrated and needs fluids ASAP,” he commanded. “Her wrists are chafed and bleeding and her hands have first degree burns.”
Dr. Bailey happened to be on duty and greeted Jack. “I’ll take it from here, Dr. Taylor.”
Two hours later Devon lay awake in an ER cubicle and faced Detective Kennedy. With a second bag of fluids pumping through her veins, her color had returned. Cool salve and bandages made her wrists and hands feel better, too. Jack sat next to the bed with a hand resting protectively on her arm. In the aftermath of her being rescued and brought to the hospital, they had not had a moment alone to talk.
“How are you feeling, Dr. Brooks?” Detective Kennedy asked.
“Tired but good.”
“Are you able to answer a few questions?”
“Yes.”
/> “Let’s begin with what happened in the parking garage at Barrington Industries.”
“I was on my way to the airport after meeting with Jasper Barrington, and someone came up behind me and jabbed a needle in my neck. I don’t know how long I was unconscious before I woke up in that shack. Harry and Smitty mentioned I had been missing four days. I counted three when I was awake.”
“What did they say to you?”
“Harry owed money and thought he and Smitty could ransom me until I told them I wasn’t worth anything to the Barringtons. I offered them my own money and had almost convinced them to take it before the other guy showed up. I recognized him. Digger Sharpe. He came into the clinic and warned me to watch my back. Digger killed Harry and Smitty and planned to sell me on the black market. I fought him off and managed to get my hands on his gun. I shot him in the knees. Is he okay?”
Jack squeezed her arm and grunted something beneath his breath.
“Yes. Thanks to you, Digger Sharpe will be spending the rest of his life behind bars.”
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“After we saw the security camera footage from the parking garage, we put a tail on Harry and Smitty.” Detective Kennedy pocketed his notepad.
“I feel sorry for them. They weren’t bad men, only misguided.”
“Don’t feel sorry for them,” Jack admonished. “They tried to kidnap you from the clinic the night you delivered Inez’s baby.”
“So, that’s how I got the bruises on my arms.”
“I’ll be in touch, Dr. Brooks, if I need anything else from you.” He looked at the couple. “Take care.”
“I will,” she promised and yawned.
“Get some rest, Dev,” Jack urged. “I’ll be right here. By the way, I never knew you were such a badass.”
Her lips parted in a slight smile. “Don’t mess with the daughter of a military man.”