MANHUNT (Manhunt - a romantic suspense collection)

by Rita Herron

  “You sent me to jail, but your husband got what he deserved.”

  Kaylie’s heart pounded. “No one deserves to be gunned down in front of his child.”

  “He was stupid and greedy,” Buckham snarled. “He tried to blackmail his client for money.”

  Oh, God . . . Joe. Was that where the money in that separate account had come from?

  “That client was you?” Kaylie asked in a shaky voice.

  “No, my boss. Your husband learned his secrets and threatened to turn him over to the police. Then he started in with the blackmail.”

  “So your boss paid you to get rid of his problem,” Kaylie said, the truth dawning.

  “Exactly.” He waved his gun at her.

  “Then he hung you out to dry, didn’t he?” Kaylie asked. “He let you go to jail and take the fall.”

  “If it wasn’t for you, I never would have been caught,” Buckham said. “But I’m not sitting on death row for those other murders.”

  Behind her, CeCe whimpered, her fingernails digging into Kaylie’s arm. “What do you want?”

  “The key to his safety deposit box,” Buckham said.

  “What’s in it?” Kaylie asked.

  Buckham laughed. “Money, you idiot. With that cash, I can escape the country.”

  Betrayal shot through Kaylie. On top of the bank account she hadn’t known about, Joe had a safety deposit box that he’d kept from her.

  “Give me the key.”

  “I . . . don’t know where it is,” Kaylie said. “Joe didn’t tell me anything about it.”

  Buckham jammed the gun toward her face, the barrel staring her in the eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  Terror stole through Kaylie. “I told you I didn’t know about it,” Kaylie whispered. “If I did, I’d give you the key.”

  CeCe tugged at her hand. “Mommy?”

  “Shh, baby,” Kaylie said softly. “It’ll be all right.”

  “I don’t think so,” Buckham said. “If you want the kid to live, I need the money.”Panic immobilized Kaylie. How much money was in that account? Could she gain access to that foreign account of Joe’s?

  “Mommy,” CeCe said in a small voice. “I gots the key.”

  Kaylie gasped and looked down at her daughter. “What?”

  CeCe’s face paled with fear. “I gots the key.”

  Buckham’s evil grin revealed crooked yellow teeth. “Then give it to me, kid, and I’ll let you and your mommy go.”

  Kaylie didn’t believe him, but they didn’t have a choice. “Where is it, CeCe?”

  CeCe pointed to her rag doll lying on the kitchen table. “Daddy put it on a string and made a necklace for my doll. He tolded me to keep it for him.”

  Kaylie’s legs nearly buckled at the very idea of her husband entrusting her daughter with something so dangerous. Why in the world hadn’t he told her what was going on?

  Buckham nudged them both toward the table. “Get it for me, kid.”

  CeCe released her mother’s hand, grabbed the rag doll and held it out to Buckham. Buckham fiddled with the doll, then yanked the string from around its neck. CeCe had tucked the key inside the doll’s dress, but it glinted in the light as he held it up to examine it.

  “Thanks, kid.”

  Kaylie squared her shoulders. “You got what you came for, now leave us alone.”

  Buckham’s jowls jiggled as he shook his head. ”Sorry, lady, but I can’t do that.”

  He gestured toward the door. “Now, walk.”

  Kaylie clutched her daughter to her and did as he said, mentally searching for a way to escape. He forced them to walk to his black sedan, then opened the trunk and shoved them inside.

  Kaylie pulled her daughter into her arms as he slammed the trunk closed.

  God help them. How could she save them now?

  MITCH RACED ONTO THE RANCH, HIS HEART HAMMERING WITH fear.

  He’d called Kaylie a dozen times on the way back, and she hadn’t answered. Something was wrong.

  The Pathfinder still sat where she’d left it earlier. He threw the truck into park and ran inside the farmhouse, yelling for them. “Kaylie? CeCe?”

  An eerie quiet fell over the house, the furnace rumbling and creaking as it worked to warm the chill from the rooms. He rushed through the den, then the kitchen, praying he’d find them. CeCe’s present sat on the table, wrapped and covered with scotch tape, but there was no one in the room.

  He ran into the hall and up the steps, checking each of the rooms, but they were empty as well.

  Maybe they were in the barn petting Horseshoe. They might have even saddled up and taken a ride.

  He hurried out the door and ran to the barn, calling their names again. When he stepped inside, the horses whinnied, and Horseshoe rapped at the door to her stall.

  “Where are they, buddy?” Images of Kaylie and CeCe hurt or bleeding taunted him.

  Then images of his wife and son, dead, flashed behind his eyes.

  No . . . he couldn’t have found Kaylie and CeCe only to lose them now.

  He raced back to the kitchen, hoping Kaylie had left a note, that she and CeCe had simply gone for a walk.

  But when he looked in the kitchen again, he spotted scuff marks on the floor as if someone had dragged their shoes. He followed the marks to the back porch and noticed a boot print.

  A large print, the size of a man’s shoe.

  Cold dread filled him.

  Buckham must have found them and taken them somewhere.

  He punched Micah’s number and relayed what had happened, filling him in on his conversation with Fittinger.

  “Alert authorities to look for Buckham,” he said. “Kaylie and CeCe are in terrible danger.”

  Mitch ended the call, his adrenaline pumping. He drove his truck out to the helipad he’d built on the south end of the property for his personal helicopter, climbed in and geared up. Seconds later, he lifted off, his gaze sweeping his property and the road for anything suspicious.

  Dammit, he wished to hell he knew what kind of car Buckham was driving.

  The chopper rose above the treetops, yet he stayed low enough to scan the area, aware daylight had waned. Night was falling and would soon make visibility more difficult.

  Even though it was winter, his land looked rich, his pastures waiting for livestock. His grandfather had loved this land, had claimed the rich earth and soil were part of him.

  How could he sell it to a stranger?

  He’d thought he couldn’t live here without his son, but Kaylie and CeCe had filled the farmhouse with laughter and the warmth of a real family.

  Suddenly he spotted a black sedan weaving onto a side road that led to the river. The old campground that used to be there was overgrown, the buildings rotting.

  Another car, a shiny Mercedes, was parked near the river.

  Mitch guided the chopper to the right, following it, his anxiety rising as the sedan pulled to a stop. A big man he recognized from photos as Larry Buckham climbed from the front, then strode over to the Mercedes.

  The windows in the Mercedes were tinted so dark, Mitch couldn’t see who he was talking to, but Buckham leaned close to the window in conversation, then returned to the sedan.

  A minute later, he opened the car door, gripped the door edge and steering wheel, and he pushed the car toward the river.

  Mitch lost his breath. Obviously Buckham was going to ditch the car so no one could find it.

  But where were Kaylie and CeCe?

  The truth hit him with the force of a bullet. They were locked in the trunk.

  Buckham was going to leave them there to drown while he escaped with the man waiting in the Mercedes.

  KAYLIE HUGGED CECE TO HER, FEAR NEARLY PARALYZING HER. She had to save her daughter.

  But how?

  She had no idea where they were. They’d driven away from the ranch and turned onto a road that was rough with potholes.

  Maybe a dirt road?

  They’d passed the river
—she’d heard water running. And now . . .

  Now the car had stopped. Buckham had gotten out for a minute, but the car was moving again, only slowly this time.

  The sound of water gushing around them made her breath catch. Dear God . . . the car felt as if it was sinking. Water gurgled, but the engine wasn’t running.

  “Mommy!” CeCe cried.

  Kaylie fought panic as she realized the car was sinking into the water.

  And they were trapped.

  Survival instincts battled with cold terror. There had to be a way out.

  Didn’t cars have a latch in the trunk so you could open the trunk from the inside?

  “CeCe, honey, Mommy needs to see if I can find a way to open the trunk.”

  CeCe sniffled, but nodded against her. Kaylie kissed her daughter’s hair, then released her and frantically ran her hands over the floor, the sides, then the top of the inside of the trunk.

  There had to be a latch…if there wasn’t, she and CeCe were going to drown and no one would ever find them.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MITCH SPOTTED A CLEARING A HALF MILE FROM THE SPOT where Buckham was pushing the car into the river and landed the chopper. He called Micah to alert him that he’d spotted Buckham and to send backup.

  Terrified Kaylie and CeCe were in that trunk, he grabbed his rifle for backup, his other hand securing his Sig Sauer as he jumped from the helicopter. He ran through the brush, closing the distance between him and the sedan, determined to catch Buckham.

  He slowed as he neared the Mercedes, his breath puffing out as he snuck up on the vehicle. Buckham was just climbing in the passenger side when Mitch stepped from the foliage.

  He raised the rifle. “It’s over, Buckham. You’re under arrest.”

  Buckham froze at the door, then leveled him with a challenging look. “I’m not going back to prison.”

  “Then you’ll go to your grave,” Mitch said. “If Kaylie and her little girl are in that car, that’d be my choice anyway.”

  Buckham lifted a hand as if he was going to surrender, but a gun glinted in the dim light, and Mitch fired. The bullet hit Buckham between the eyes, and he dropped like a sack of flour.

  The driver of the Mercedes gunned the engine, but Mitch fired at the driver’s side. The bullet pinged off the car door, and the driver sped up, but Mitch rushed forward and fired again. This time the bullet shattered the driver’s window.

  Mitch fired another shot at the driver. The Mercedes plunged into a tree with a loud crash. Mitch kept his gun aimed as he slowly approached the vehicle. When he was close enough to open the driver’s door, he aimed the gun inside the window. A heavyset man was slumped at the wheel, blood oozing from his neck where Mitch had shot him.

  Mitch used two fingers to check the man’s pulse.

  He was dead.

  Mitch would find out who the man was later. Right now he had to save Kaylie and CeCe.

  Deja vu of being shot and careening into the river where his wife and son died hit him. It was happening again.

  Jesus. He couldn’t let Kaylie and CeCe drown.

  But the sedan was almost immersed in the water. He dropped his rifle and Sig by the edge of the river, kicked off his boots, tossed his hat to the ground, then plunged into the water.

  He dove beneath the surface, swam to the car and searched for the lever to open the trunk. The water ebbed around him, slowly seeping into the car. He jerked and yanked at the trunk, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Adrenaline surged through him, and he swam to the driver’s side. The door was ajar, so he jerked at it until he opened enough to reach inside.

  He fumbled around the dash in search of an automatic trunk opener, and found one on the left hand side of the seat. He pushed at it until it lifted, then he swam to the back of the sedan again.

  His lungs were straining for air, his muscles pushed to the limit as he pried the top of the trunk open.

  Kaylie’s eyes widened in relief, then panic as water rushed inside. He grabbed her and CeCe, and pulled them from the inside.

  Kaylie pushed CeCe into his arms, and he nodded in understanding, then cradled her to him and swam to the surface. Kaylie was right behind him, and they both plunged above water, gasping for air at the same time.

  CeCe gasped, sputtering water and coughing as he hauled her to the embankment and climbed out. He lay her gently on the ground, then ran back and helped Kaylie.

  She staggered, water dripping from her clothes and hair, then collapsed onto the ground beside CeCe.

  “Mommy!” CeCe cried.

  “I’m here, baby.” Kaylie dragged her daughter into her arms and soothed her.

  Mitch called for an ambulance, then cradled both of them next to him, trying to warm them by rubbing their arms and hands, while they waited for the medics.

  KAYLIE SHIVERED, GRATEFUL THAT SHE AND CECE WERE ALIVE AS she burrowed against Mitch.

  “It’s over,” he whispered. “Buckham is dead, and so is the man who helped him.”

  “It was Joe’s fault,” Kaylie said, anger mounting inside her. “He got greedy and blackmailed one of his clients. That’s the reason Buckham shot him.”

  “He confessed?”

  She nodded. “Apparently Joe hid money in a safety deposit box, and Buckham and the man he worked for wanted it back.”

  CeCe gulped on a sob. “I’m sorry, Mommy. Daddy told me not to tell.”

  Kaylie hugged her. “He told you not to tell me what?”

  “About the money,” CeCe said tearfully. “I saw him put it in his gym bag, but he said it was our secret.”

  How dare Joe use her daughter like that.

  She wished with all her might that he was alive so she could vent her rage at him.

  “It’s not your fault,” Mitch said softly to CeCe. “Sweet pea, the bad man can’t hurt you or your mommy ever again.”

  Then they could go home, Kaylie realized, as the ambulance siren wailed and screeched to a stop in the clearing near the cars.

  Except the thought of leaving Mitch made her chest constrict.

  “Thank you, Mitch,” she said softly.

  He nodded, but his face looked grim. Was he thinking the same thing she was—that now Buckham was caught it was time for her and CeCe to leave the ranch so he could sell it and move on with his life?

  THE NEXT FEW HOURS WERE EXHAUSTING. KAYLIE DIDN’T WANT to go to the hospital, but Mitch insisted she and CeCe be examined by the doctor. The threat of hypothermia along with almost drowning didn’t sit well in his gut.

  Micah handled notifying the medical examiner and local sheriff, and while the ambulance transported Kaylie and CeCe to the hospital for a check up, he tried to tie up the details of the case.

  They identified the dead man in the Mercedes as Lester Hubanks, a well-known financial entrepreneur who was being investigated for money laundering. Mitch’s fellow Ranger, Sgt. Alex Townsend, found the money Buckham had wanted in the safety deposit box Joe Whittaker had arranged.

  Mitch explained to the authorities and Buckham’s attorney about Fittinger’s confession. Sheriff Turner had the Family Man killer in custody. Apparently Buckham had used the serial killer’s MO to throw off the police when he murdered Whittaker.

  Coupled with the fact that Buckham had held Kaylie and her daughter at gunpoint and tried to kill them, Kaylie was cleared of suspicion.

  Buckham’s attorney was also charged with aiding and abetting a felon in his prison escape.

  Kaylie’s only mistake was trusting the man she’d married.

  Just as Sally had trusted him.

  He’d let her and Todd down. But at least he’d saved Kaylie and CeCe.

  Not that they could take his family’s place.

  Todd would always live in his memories and his heart.

  THE NEXT NIGHT CECE COULD BARELY SLEEP SHE WAS SO excited. All day her mommy and Mr. Mitch had hugged her and assured her the bad men were gone forever.

  They read Christmas stories and sung hol
iday tunes, and Mr. Mitch even drove them to a little church in town where they listened to the preacher man talk about Jesus being born in a manger.

  CeCe asked her mommy if she was born in a manger, but her mommy said no, that she was born in a hospital.

  CeCe didn’t like hospitals. She and her mommy had spent most of the day before there, smelling that awful smell and eating rubbery food and letting the doctor with the white coat poke on her and listen to her breathe in and out with that thing he hung around his neck.

  She didn’t know why he needed that thingamabob to hear her breathe. She could hear her own self breathe, and she could hear her mommy breathe without it.

  But she was just five, and nobody listened to her except Mr. Mitch who finally brought her home after she’d begged and begged and poked her lips out. Mr. Mitch was a softie.

  He didn’t like to see her sad.

  She giggled and snuggled into the covers, and tried to think about her daddy up in heaven and Mr. Mitch’s wife up there, too. Todd said he was waiting to tell his daddy goodbye before he crossed through those shiny gates. He said his mama told him the gates were made of pearls and the streets made of gold.

  Did they sparkle like the angel pin she bought her mommy?

  Her mommy left the radio on, and she listened to the Christmas songs, Jingle Bells and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.

  Where was Santa Claus now?

  She snuck out of bed and looked out the window, hunting for his reindeer and the sleigh in the sky. But she didn’t see the sleigh, just the moon and lots of stars.

  She picked out the shiny star the preacher talked about, the one that the Wise men followed so they could find the baby Jesus, and she closed her eyes and made a wish.

  Maybe Santa could follow that star to find her.

  She’d left him extra cookies and hoped he got the new picture she’d drawn. She wished she could spell and write out the words she wanted to say, but maybe he got lots of notes from kids and he’d understand her drawing. She wanted that kitty cat, but even more than that, she wanted to stay here and live on the ranch with her mommy and Mr. Mitch and Todd.