Colorado Abduction

by Cassie Miles

  His forehead puckered as he frowned. Dylan had a lot more issues with their mother than she did. “I can’t believe she agreed to come back to the ranch. When she left us, she couldn’t get away from here fast enough.”

  “She came back for your wedding,” Carolyn reminded him.

  “And she gave us a very nice gift. And Nicole wrote her a very nice thank-you card. That’s that.”

  She didn’t mention her opinion that their father hadn’t been the easiest man in the world to live with. The portrait of their father, Sterling Carlisle, as a rough and rugged rancher who was building an empire and not paying much attention to his family might also apply to Dylan.

  In the videotape, Nicole had been wearing her wedding ring on the wrong hand. That worried Carolyn. She feared that the problems between Dylan and his wife ran deeper than a single issue, and she hated to see their family history repeat in another broken marriage.

  Were the Carlisles incapable of handling long-term relationships? She rose from the table and paced. She and Burke weren’t at the point where they were planning beyond tomorrow, but making a commitment didn’t scare her. And Burke was, as he’d said himself, afraid of nothing.

  Suddenly, Dylan scrambled with the phones. “It’s the kidnapper. I recognize the phone number.”

  “I’ll take the call,” she said. “You record it and start the trace.”

  He nodded.

  Carolyn tried not to show fear. “This is Carolyn.”

  “It’s time,” said the whispery voice on speakerphone. “Bring the ransom to La Rana.”

  Her instructions were to keep him talking. “That’s a big pasture. I’m not exactly sure where you want me to put it.”

  “On the rocks. Go. Now.”

  “It’s going to take a while to get saddled up and—”

  “He hung up,” Dylan said.

  Burke’s warning echoed in her head. He’d told them not to leave the house until he got back.

  “Damn it,” Dylan said. “He’s calling back.”

  He put the call through. This time the voice was Nicole’s. “Dylan, are you there?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Where are you?”

  “Meet me at the creek in half an hour. After the ransom is dropped off.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just be there.”

  The phone went dead.

  AS SOON AS BURKE AND SMITH were on Circle M land and within range of the surveillance cameras, they started running. A full-out sprint in body armor while carrying a heavy-duty repeating rifle wasn’t easy, but his adrenaline surged. Burke was flying.

  He went first, since he’d actually been inside the compound and knew the layout of the buildings. The barn was in sight. He ran toward the trailer. His plan was to keep the men inside pinned down, unable to interfere in the rescue of the women and children.

  Through his headset, he heard Corelli’s voice. “Keep going. They’re moving inside. Haven’t left the trailer yet.”

  Burke and Smith split up. Smith ducked behind a Jeep parked to the left of the trailer door. Burke ran to the left side. He called out, “FBI. Throw down your weapons. Come out with your hands up.”

  The response was a blast of bullets fired through the door. If Burke had been dumb enough to stand there, he would have been mowed down.

  Both he and Smith let loose with a barrage of gunfire. As agreed, they aimed low, almost into the dirt. Burke didn’t want casualties. He circled the trailer, staying away from the windows.

  From the bunkhouse, he heard shouts of protest.

  The corresponding voices of his men, heard through his headset, were polite. They explained that they were there to protect the women and children, to remove them from a dangerous situation.

  In just a few minutes, the head of the rescue team reported, “We’re leaving with the hostages. Three men are escorting them. Two more are headed back toward the guys at the front gate.”

  The plan seemed to be operating smoothly, and that concerned Burke. After years in law enforcement, he knew that nothing was easy.

  He spotted a woman running toward the trailer. One who had broken away from the others?

  She screamed, “Logan, look out! They’re coming for you, Logan!”

  A shot was fired. From inside the trailer.

  The woman fell.

  DYLAN REFUSED TO WAIT. Nicole’s phone call had raised his level of anxiety to a fever pitch. “We’re going to deliver that damn ransom. And we’re going to do it right now.”

  “Use your head, Dylan. It’s a trick. The kidnappers have to be watching the house. They know we’re alone. If we wait until Burke gets back…”

  “Nicole could be dead by then.”

  Carolyn begged him. “Please. Let’s call Burke.”

  “That was my wife on the phone. She wouldn’t lie to me.”

  She might not have a choice. The kidnappers could be standing over her with a gun. “I heard her.”

  “She said to meet her in half an hour. After we pay the ransom.” He held Carolyn’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. In his face, she saw the depth of his suffering. “Either you help me with this or I’ll do it alone.”

  How could she refuse her brother? She’d promised her father that she’d protect him. And he had a point. If they didn’t deliver the ransom, Nicole might pay the ultimate price.

  “I’ll ride with you,” she said.

  “Not enough time. La Rana and the creek are in opposite directions. We’ll never make it to both in half an hour.”

  He was correct, and the timing was important. She drew the obvious conclusion. “There must be two of them. One to pick up the ransom. The other to hold Nicole.”

  “Butch Thurgood and Pete Richter.” He stormed from the dining room and grabbed his jacket near the door. “Bastards.”

  “I’ll drop the ransom at La Rana,” she said. “You go and wait for Nicole.”

  “I’ll grab a couple of horses from the men and bring them to the back door. Hurry.”

  “What are you going to tell the sheriff?”

  “I’ll figure it out.” He wrapped his arms around her for a quick hug. “Thanks, sis. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Be careful.”

  While he went to make explanations and find them a couple of mounts, she entered the office to retrieve the ransom from the safe.

  Her fingers trembled as she spun the dial on the combination lock and took out the heavy backpack. This might be the biggest mistake she’d ever made. Remembering the fierce blast to her chest when she’d been shot, she wished that she had one of those uncomfortable bulletproof vests.

  She put on her jacket and jammed her arms into the straps of the backpack. No time to waste.

  Still, she returned to the computers in the dining room and activated the channel Dylan had used to communicate with Corelli. “I have a message for Burke.”

  “Carolyn?”

  “I’m delivering the ransom now.”

  “Wait,” Corelli said. “Don’t make a move until—”

  “Tell him La Rana.”

  She turned off the channel and ran for the door, trying to outrace her better judgment.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Burke watched the woman writhing on the ground, holding her leg and crying. He couldn’t leave her there, suffering. But he couldn’t rescue her without stepping directly into the line of fire. The man inside that trailer had been cold-blooded enough to shoot someone who was trying to warn him.

  It had to be Logan.

  “Logan,” Burke yelled. “This is your last chance to disarm and come out with your hands up.”

  “Then what? Prison?” It was Logan, all right. “Get off my land, fed.”

  Burke would have preferred waiting until his teams had the women and children safely loaded into transport. He heard gunfire and shouting from the front gate where another confrontation was underway.

  He spoke into his microphone, “Give me a report on the hostages.”


  “One woman ran off. We’re almost to the vehicles with the others.”

  “Move fast,” Burke said. He didn’t know what else Logan might have up his sleeve.

  Another voice came through the headset. “We’re at the front gate. Both men have surrendered.”

  The only problem left was Logan, holed up in his trailer.

  Burke wanted this over. He wanted to get back to the ranch and to Carolyn. The thought of her spurred him on.

  He stepped away from the trailer. From his belt, he unclipped a flashbang canister—similar to a grenade but without the lethal effects. This canister would make a big noise and a fierce burst of blinding white light before exuding a stinging burst of smoke. Should be enough to drive the rattlesnake from his hole.

  Aiming high, Burke shot out a side window on the trailer and lobbed the canister inside.

  He turned his head aside so he wouldn’t be affected by the flash. The blast was deafening. Smoke poured through the broken window.

  From inside the trailer came yelps of surprise.

  Burke moved into position near the bullet-riddled trailer door. He saw Agent Smith emerge from his hiding place behind the vehicle and position himself in front of the injured woman so she wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. Smith would take care of her.

  Logan flung open the door. His heavy-duty rifle was poised at his hip. Before he could spray bullets, Burke lunged. He tackled Logan, pinning him to the ground on his belly.

  A second man came out of the trailer with his hands in the air. “Don’t shoot.”

  The only one who hadn’t given up was Logan. He struggled on the ground. The correct protocol would be to cuff him and proceed with standard interrogation, but Burke had a different idea. If Logan thought he had a chance, he’d spill more information.

  Purposely, Burke gave him just enough room to scramble to his feet. Logan took off, running toward the barn.

  Burke pursued. Though he could have easily overtaken Logan, he stayed one step behind. Just before Logan entered the barn, he grabbed his collar and spun him around. They were face-to-face.

  “Where’s Nicole?” Burke demanded.

  Logan took a wild swing, and Burke allowed the other man’s fist to make contact with the Kevlar vest. That had to hurt.

  Logan yelled in pain. “Take off your armor. Fight me like a man.”

  “Give me a reason,” Burke said. “Where’s Nicole?”

  “She was here. But not anymore.”

  Burke flipped off his helmet. “Your men abducted her by the creek. Right?”

  “It was a joke. I was going to let her go.”

  The cold night air felt good on Burke’s face. He was nearly as anxious to take off the protective gear as Logan was to have him do so. He yanked off the arm guards and tossed them aside.

  Remembering his training as a negotiator, Burke offered a morsel of hope. “If you’re not involved in the kidnapping, this might turn out okay for you.”

  Except for the murder of Barbara Ayers and the illegal smuggling. But Burke didn’t mention those charges. Or the fact that he’d just seen Logan shoot that woman in the leg.

  Burke said, “We could make a deal.”

  Though Logan’s eyes were red and watery from the smoke, he brightened. Deal making was his thing.

  “It’s Butch Thurgood and Pete Richter,” he said. “They’ve got her. They took Nicole to the cave and never came back.”

  Burke shed his Kevlar vest. His arms and upper body were free. “You asked for half a mil in ransom.”

  “But I didn’t have Nicole. Like I said, just a joke.”

  “Not very funny.”

  Burke balanced his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to attack. He laid back and waited for Logan to make the first move. Which he did.

  Logan took a jab toward Burke’s chin. He missed.

  Burke retaliated with a quick body shot—hard enough to double Logan over. “You’re working with somebody inside the Carlisle Ranch. Who is it?”

  Logan dragged himself upright. “I’m not going to prison, right?”

  “Give me a name.”

  “Lucas Mann. I paid him to help us with the sabotage. He let us know when we could get inside the ranch and make trouble.”

  Burke feinted right. With his left hand he smacked Logan’s left arm. “Lucas wouldn’t set fire to the stable.”

  Logan drew himself together. His posture signaled that he was getting ready for a final assault. But Burke was already thinking three steps ahead. He knew Logan would go for the body, the biggest target. Burke shifted just enough to let Logan’s blow crease the outer edge of his ribs.

  This negotiation was almost over. Burke shot out with his right fist, shoving Logan’s shoulder. “Did Lucas set fire to the barn?”

  “He didn’t know what we were planning, but he told us a good time to strike. Then the old fool raised the alarm.”

  Burke ducked another flailing blow and responded with a pop to Logan’s face, hard enough to break his handsome nose.

  “Where’s Nicole?”

  “Don’t know.” Logan wailed. “You busted my nose.”

  Burke moved closer. “Last chance for you to get out of this. Where is she?”

  “If I knew, I’d tell.”

  Burke believed him. Logan had been double-crossed by his own men. They had taken Nicole to make a big score for themselves. He spun Logan around and cuffed him. “Sam Logan, you’re under arrest for the murder of Barbara Ayers. And for illegal smuggling.”

  Smith ran up beside him. “I have bad news, Burke.”

  “Now what?”

  “Carolyn called Corelli. She’s delivering the ransom. At La Rana.”

  Cold dread gripped his heart. There was no more time for strategy or tactics. Carolyn was in danger.

  THE STRAP OF THE BACKPACK rubbed against the bruise where Carolyn had been shot. The pain reminded her that Logan wanted her dead. Even though she’d remembered to bring a gun this time, she didn’t feel safe. His men had already tried to kill her once; she’d be crazy to ride into the center of the feeding pasture. Sitting erect in the saddle, she couldn’t hide.

  Throughout her ride from the house, she stayed low, leaning over her horse’s neck. At the gate, she slipped to the ground and removed the heavy pack holding a million dollars.

  Burke was going to be angry when he found out what she was doing. Oh, Burke, I’m sorry. If I ever see you again, I’ll make it up to you.

  On horseback, Carolyn could have easily maneuvered her way through the herd. But she assumed the kidnapper was close: she had to proceed on foot. She unlatched the gate and stepped inside the enclosure.

  She couldn’t turn back. Nicole’s life was at stake.

  Carolyn unlatched the gate and stepped inside. The musky scent from three hundred head of cattle didn’t bother her; she’d grown up with that odor. Plenty of hay was strewn across the packed earth; she couldn’t worry about where she was stepping or what she was stepping in. The dim moonlight shone on the fat rock formation that looked like a squatting frog. La Rana.

  The herd seemed to sense that something was wrong. These were mature cattle, nine hundred pounds and up. Restlessly, they stamped their hooves and made nervous noises as if to warn each other of danger.

  Using the cattle for cover, she crept closer to the rocks with the pack slung over her good right shoulder and her gun in hand. She didn’t want to shoot; the noise could set off a stampede.

  She heard a horseman approaching. He yelled, “Carolyn. Where the hell are you?”

  Lucas. He’d almost admitted that he was the traitor. But was he the kidnapper? Was he here to collect the ransom?

  She ducked down and said nothing.

  “Damn it all,” Lucas barked. “I’m on your side. I’m here to help you out.”

  Help me out of one million dollars? She didn’t trust him. Not anymore.

  He rode through the gate.

  Though she tried to be invisible, he spotte
d her and approached. She dropped the ransom. Without hesitation, she aimed at the center of his chest. “I don’t want to shoot you. Just take the money. And bring Nicole back to us.”

  “You got it wrong,” he said. “When I hooked up with Logan, I thought I was just making some extra cash for letting him play harmless pranks. I didn’t know—”

  “Kidnapping isn’t a prank. It’s a federal offense.”

  “I’d never hurt Nicole. Don’t you know that?”

  She wanted to believe him. “How did you know to come here?”

  “I followed you. When I saw you toting that backpack, I guessed what was going on. That’s the ransom, ain’t it? What are you fixing to do with it?”

  “The instruction was to leave it at La Rana.”

  “Hand it over to me. I’ll do it for you.”

  Or he could ride off with the backpack. If Lucas wasn’t the kidnapper, he could botch the ransom delivery. “If you really want to help me, back off.”

  “At least let me clear a path through these steers.”

  He rode past her, expertly using his horse to nudge the snorting, frightened cattle out of the way.

  Carolyn saw her way clear to La Rana. She ran. Dropped the backpack. It was done. She’d fulfilled her part of the bargain.

  Leaning against the rocks, she checked her wristwatch. Less than half an hour had passed since she and Dylan had taken the call from the kidnapper. Very soon, her brother would see his wife again. The nightmare would be over.

  “This way,” Lucas said.

  Dodging a wild-eyed steer, she ran toward Lucas. He seemed to be helping her, forming a barrier between her and the other cattle. She was almost to the fence when she saw him turn in the saddle and glance over his shoulder toward La Rana.

  “Look out,” he yelled. He wheeled his horse around. His rifle was in hand.

  Gunfire exploded.

  Lucas was slammed out of the saddle.

  The herd began to move, shuffling nervously. The gunshot had spooked them.

  Carolyn peered through the darkness at the rock formation. The kidnapper was there, hiding like a coward. She raised her gun, ready to shoot if she saw the slightest movement. Firing her weapon while she stood in the midst of the herd was suicide; they’d stampede. But she had to face the son of a bitch—to shoot him before he shot her. Adrenaline pumped through her veins.