The Sheriff and the Baby

by C. C. Coburn

  “That key will only open the box that contains all the incriminating papers,” she said. “You know the ones, Hennessey? The lists of all the deals you and Marcus did over the years. You should be grateful I didn’t send it to the LAPD. I’m sure they could’ve convicted you on that alone.”

  Beth felt her strength return as she watched Hennessey pale at her words. He couldn’t know that she’d been too terrified to send it to the LAPD in case someone else in the department who was also corrupt had gotten hold of it. She turned away from Hennessey, her mind racing.

  “Where’s the other key, then?” Hennessey demanded.

  “There is no key,” she said, her smile triumphant.

  Hennessey’s eyes narrowed. “What’re you saying?”

  “I’m saying that if you touch one hair on my daughter’s head, then those drugs and that money will rot in that L.A. bank vault forever.”

  Hennessey snorted. “Yeah, right!” He scowled at Morgan. “Kill ’em and let’s get out of here. I’ll get hold of the stuff somehow.” He looked back at Beth and said, as he watched her carefully, “She’s lying. I’ll bet the other key’s in the first box.”

  Beth crossed her arms and cocked her head on the side. “Jeez, Hennessey, you must think I’m as stupid as you are.” She sneered, playing the bitch, enjoying the look of annoyance on Hennessey’s face.

  Enraged, Hennessey drew his weapon and pressed it against her cheek.

  Beth detected the tremor in his hand.

  Realizing he wasn’t as much in control of the situation as he wanted to be encouraged her, firming her resolve. “Go on,” she urged. “Kill me. But you’ll never get your money.”

  Indecision flitted across Hennessey’s features. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  Beth’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is a game, Hennessey?” she almost screamed. “This is no game, you slimy bastard! This is life. My life. My baby’s life. And I’ve had enough of you toying with it!”

  She pushed the weapon away and stuck her face up close to his. Hennessey was too surprised by her action to react.

  “You see, I should be thankful to you, Hennessey. You’ve forced me to toughen up over these past few months. I’ve had to be very cunning to keep one step ahead of you. I knew my life depended on you not getting access to that box, so I took precautions.”

  Beth wasn’t the least bit fazed by Hennessey’s growl of frustration. Maybe if she played for time, the cab she’d ordered so long ago would show up. She didn’t suppose Chuck would be able to help much, but at least his presence might even the odds somewhat.

  “The other safety-deposit box can only be opened by my thumbprint.”

  Hennessey snorted and addressed Morgan. “Cut off her thumbs and then kill them.” He glanced at his watch. “And hurry up about it.”

  Beth’s stomach dropped at his words. What a stupid, naive fool she’d been to come up with the thumbprint routine! It had sprung to mind because they’d used it as a security measure on one of the homes she’d designed. Damn!

  Morgan disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a meat cleaver.

  An idea formed. “Just one little problem with that plan, Hennessey. The thumbprint security system is thermal sensitive. The sensors have to be able to detect body temperature within one degree of ninety-eight point six—otherwise, the whole vault shuts down, with you two clowns locked inside.”

  “She’s lying!” Morgan yelled. “I’ve never heard of any such thing!”

  Hennessey studied her for several long moments. “Maybe she is and maybe she isn’t. I can’t take that chance. We’ll bring them with us. When we get to the bank, we’ll cut off her thumb. That way, it’ll still be warm enough for me to do what I need to do and get out of there. Then we can dispose of her and the kid.”

  No doubt Hennessey intended to drive back to California. It would be too risky to take them on a plane, but if they brought Sarah with them, the baby wouldn’t be safe. A dozen hideous scenarios filled her mind at the fate that might befall Sarah if Hennessey killed her but not Sarah….

  Once he recognized her deception and found the second key in the safety-deposit box, he’d kill her; Beth was in no doubt of that. Unless she could get away from him before they reached L.A., she would die. And when Hennessey realized she’d played him for a fool, it wouldn’t be a quick death, either.

  Her only chance now was to escape from Hennessey somewhere between here and L.A. But if she had the added burden of Sarah, she’d never be able to accomplish that.

  “Leave my daughter here. Otherwise, the deal’s off.” She snatched the cleaver from Morgan’s grip. Bracing her hand on the stone mantel, she held the cleaver above her thumb. “You leave her or I cut it off right now,” she threatened. “And there’s no way you’re going to be able to heat it back up to the correct temperature again!” The cleaver trembled in her grip.

  Hennessey paused as though undecided.

  “Leave the kid,” he finally snapped.

  Beth released a sigh of relief and dropped the cleaver as Hennessey grasped the back of her hair and dragged her toward the door.

  All the fight gone out of her. Beth stumbled as she looked back at Sarah, her tiny arms waving in the air. “Sarah!” she cried, trying to imprint the last image of her beautiful daughter on her mind.

  At least they were leaving her precious baby behind. At least she had a chance! Matt would find her when he returned. Sarah would be safe with Matt.

  A sob of anguish escaped her throat. What would happen to her little girl, left alone in the world? How desperately she wanted to keep her baby with her.

  Morgan was about to close the door when he said, “If we leave the kid, that sheriff’s gonna know we’ve got the woman. If we take both of ’em, he might figure she’s taken off again.”

  Hennessey halted in his tracks and spun around to Morgan. “You’re right. Good thinking—for once,” he snapped at his partner. “Get the kid!”

  “No!” Beth screamed as she struggled out of Hennessey’s grasp and ran toward the cabin. How stupid could she have been!

  She raced into the living room but Morgan had already picked up Sarah. Not wanting to give him an opportunity to repeat Hennessey’s cruel action of throwing Sarah into the air, she stopped and held up her hands in front of her. She had to go along with them. Play for time.

  Morgan moved toward the door, the baby struggling in his awkward hold.

  Thinking quickly, she said, “Sarah gets carsick. If you put her in her car seat, she won’t throw up on you.”

  Morgan didn’t need any more prompting than that. He handed the baby to Beth.

  A warm wave of relief swept over her. She held the baby against her heart and cooed to her. Sarah quieted immediately. “That’s my girl,” Beth murmured softly, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Everything’s all right. Mommy’s here.” Whatever happened in the next few minutes or hours, she had to ensure Sarah was safe. As much as she wanted to hold Sarah close and protect her from Hennessey, Beth knew her baby would be safer in her carrier.

  She fastened Sarah into it, making sure she was secure, and wished she had the base it fit into for safe vehicular transport. Lord only knew what sort of roads they’d be driving on to escape detection once Matt realized she’d been taken by Hennessey. And if they had an accident… Beth squeezed her eyes shut at the prospect of Sarah becoming a human missile if the vehicle crashed.

  Closely following that horrifying thought was the realization Matt might believe she’d run away. After all, she’d left the note…. She glanced at where it lay on the mantel.

  “Come on!” Hennessey lunged at Sarah’s carrier, trying to wrest it from Beth’s grasp.

  She held on, refusing to relinquish her daughter.

  With a groan of frustration, Hennessey dragged both of them out the door behind him.

  At the vehicle, he pushed Beth roughly into the backseat. “Don’t forget to wear your seat belt,” he taunted her in a singsong voice,
then slammed the door, strode around the car and got in the other side.

  In the absence of any suitable restraining device for Sarah’s carrier, Beth decided the safest place for her daughter was on the floor of the vehicle. She wedged the carrier between the rear of the driver’s seat and the backseat and prayed it would offer sufficient protection.

  Hennessey sneered at her makeshift safety measures. “You’ll both be dead soon enough.” As he lifted his hand, Beth saw the sun sparkle against the metal of Hennessey’s service revolver. Then everything went black.

  MATT HEADED OUT of Spruce Lake and turned off to Blue Spruce Drive, narrowly missing a black Chevy Blazer as it made a sharp turn at the intersection, the driver having failed to brake sufficiently after his descent down the steep mountain road.

  Matt considered turning around and giving the guy a warning, but let it go. He wanted to get back to Beth.

  But when he pulled up at the cabin, Matt sensed something wasn’t right. He climbed down from his vehicle and looked around. A thin stream of smoke issued from the chimney. He let himself in through the front door, dropped the roses on the coffee table and hurried into the bedroom to find Beth.

  She wasn’t there. Neither was Sarah.

  On shaky legs he strode to the fireplace, where Beth had concealed the key, and pried the mortar away, half knowing it wouldn’t be there.

  He cursed long and loud. She’d fooled him. Sucked him in, let him fall in love with her, with Sarah, let him make plans for their future—tricked him completely. And now she’d taken off with Sarah and the key—presumably to claim whatever the box held. With him gone, she’d felt safe enough to come out of hiding and head back to L.A. He didn’t even know what bank the safety-deposit key was for.

  He should’ve guessed something was up from her strange behavior this morning. And in spite of all his declarations of love, she’d never once said those three little words to him. Instead, she’d played him for the lovesick fool he was. Damn her!

  Anguish twisting through him. He wondered, How had she gotten away from the cabin?

  A vehicle pulled up outside, tooting its horn. He raced to the door and pulled it open so hard it nearly came off its hinges. “Beth!”

  “Whoa, there, Matt!” Chuck Farquar yelled in warning as Matt barreled into him.

  “Where is she?” Matt bellowed, pushing him aside and striding to his vehicle.

  Chuck trotted back to his cab. “Who?”

  “Beth! The woman who lives here! She’s gone! Where the hell is she?”

  Chuck stroked his jaw in the slow, lazy, considering way that was typical of Chuck’s entire family and drove Matt to distraction. “Well, seeing’s as I was s’posed to pick her up here, I was hopin’ you could tell me.”

  Matt grabbed him by the collar. “What’re you saying?”

  Chuck tried to free himself from Matt’s fingers. “She booked a cab a while ago, but I was busy. She seemed to want to get away from here fast, though.” He scratched his head. “Maybe she hitched a ride with someone goin’ down the drive?”

  Matt released his grip on Chuck. Something wasn’t right here. He could feel it deep in his marrow. Beth was way too cautious to ever accept a ride from a stranger.

  “Y’know,” Chuck was saying. “Hank was tellin’ me—”

  Frantic, Matt rounded on him. “Shut up about Hank! I’m sick and tired of that fool cousin of yours and his gossiping.” He paced the ground between the cabin and the cab and tore at his hair. “Where the hell can she be?”

  “It’s only that there was some men from outta town askin’ about a woman this mornin’ down at the feed store.”

  Matt felt his bowels turn to water. He stopped his pacing and glared at Chuck. “What did you say?”

  “I said that a couple men from outta town were askin’ about the woman who drove that little red sports car off the road.” He scratched his head as though he had all the time in the world to impart his news.

  Matt cursed and grabbed Chuck’s shirtfront. “What did you tell them?” he demanded.

  Chuck tried to swallow. “Easy, Matt. Yer squeezin’ the life outta me!”

  “Tell me!”

  “Well…like I was sayin’, I knew Hank towed the car, ’cause he told me he did. And he kinda hinted he knew more about her than everyone else around here did. But—”

  “Shut up and get to the point! What did you tell them?”

  Chuck shrugged and eased his fingers into his collar. “I told ’em that Hank towed her car and so he might know where she lived. They gave me two hundred dollars to tell ’em where to find Hank.”

  Matt let go of Chuck’s collar and staggered away. He’d been right. Hank’s gossiping was going to get someone in trouble one day. Only he hadn’t guessed it could be as bad as this.

  “That woman lives here, and your idiot cousin and his big mouth have led to her being abducted, along with her daughter.”

  He pulled out his phone and punched in Hank’s number while Chuck mumbled his excuses.

  “I thought it was interestin’ gettin’ a call to this address, since Hank owns the cabin.” Chuck tilted his head. “Kinda makes sense, don’t it?”

  When Hank came on the line, Matt was short and to the point. “How long ago were those men looking for Beth?”

  “Well, let’s see now—” Hank drawled, but Matt cut him off.

  “How long, dammit?”

  “’Bout…forty-five minutes, I guess.”

  “What were they driving?”

  “A black Blazer. Say, Matt—”

  Matt cut the connection. The black Blazer!

  He climbed into his vehicle and started it, picked up the radio mike and called his office as he peeled out of the driveway, leaving Chuck standing outside the cabin, openmouthed. “Be on the lookout for a black Blazer, possibly heading north on Silver Springs Highway. You are to trail but not approach.”

  Matt spun the wheel as he hit the bottom of Blue Spruce Drive and called the state highway patrol and demanded to be put through to the local captain. Cutting into the other man’s welcoming chitchat, he explained the situation quickly.

  “These guys are cops,” he said. “They’re to be approached with extreme caution. There’s a possibility that if you stop them, they’ll use the woman and child as hostages.”

  “Gotcha, Matt,” the captain said. “We’re on it.”

  Matt ended the call, hit his siren and pressed his accelerator to the floor.

  He sped through Spruce Lake, heedless of the posted speeds, almost uncaring of what lay in his way. His one objective was to get to Beth and Sarah—while they were still alive.

  Matt’s cell rang. “Yeah?” he growled as he fought the wheel on the slippery road.

  “Matt. It’s Sam Forester. Bad news, I’m afraid.”

  “If you’re calling to tell me Hennessey and Morgan caught a flight out here, I already know.” He cursed the fact that Forester hadn’t called him half an hour ago. Then he would’ve at least had a chance of getting to the cabin in time to save Beth and Sarah.

  He said a hurried goodbye when his radio crackled. “We’ve got them, Matt,” the state patrol captain told him. “They’re in Silver Springs, but I think they’d gotten lost. That turnoff sign to the interstate has snow piled up over it where they’re clearing the roads. They’re driving around in circles.”

  Relief flooded Matt. They’d found them! Now came the tricky part. “Okay. Keep an eye on them, but please—don’t approach. Can you see any other passengers?”

  “There’s a driver and the only passenger I can see, another male, is sitting in the backseat. I can’t see anyone else. We’re setting up spike strips at the top of the ramp onto the interstate.”

  Matt cursed. “If you stop them, they’ll go to ground, taking the woman and baby as hostages.”

  “Relax, Matt. It’s that blind bend. They won’t know it’s there until they hit it. I suggest you tell your men to back off so these two don’t get suspicious.�
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  “He’s stopping at the gas station,” one of his deputies reported. “Asking directions by the look of it.”

  “Just keep cruising by.” He had to get there in time. He’d promised he’d keep them safe.

  Damn the highway patrol! The Blazer could come out of that blind corner at top speed and hit those spikes so hard it could roll over. If Beth and Sarah weren’t properly secured, their lives would be at risk. Provided Hennessey hadn’t disposed of them already.

  Matt fought the suffocating notion. He had to believe they were in the Blazer and belted in safely.

  The town limits signpost for Silver Springs flew past his window. As he wove his truck through the town’s traffic and toward the entry ramp to the interstate, he flipped off his siren.

  “He’s pulling out of the gas station, Matt,” the deputy said. “He’s heading for the interstate and I just saw a woman’s face at the rear window. She sat up for only a second, then the guy in the backseat pushed her down again.”

  Beth was alive! “Everybody, back off. I don’t want this guy getting panicky. They’ll be armed and won’t hesitate to use their weapons if they think they’ve been cornered.”

  Matt’s heart pounded as the Blazer came into view ahead of him. When it made a left onto the street leading to the interstate on-ramp, he followed, turning the corner against the lights, then trailed the Blazer at a discreet distance as it reached the ramp. “Go on, go on,” he muttered, “Take it. Take it.”

  Despite his earlier opinion, Matt decided that forcing the Blazer onto the interstate was probably the best solution, regardless of the inherent dangers to Beth and Sarah. They needed to get Hennessey and his accomplice when they were least expecting an ambush. If Hennessey stopped in town and made a run for it, people could get hurt in a possible shoot-out or siege. Sieges rarely ended well.

  The Blazer’s brake lights flashed on and off as though the driver was uncertain about what to do. “Damn!” Matt cursed his impatience and backed off a little, watching carefully. Although he drove an unmarked vehicle, he felt as conspicuous as a snowplow charging through the streets.