“You’re right about one thing, though. In a situation like this, things can easily become distorted. Why don’t we drop the whole topic of last night? For now, anyway.”
After his little noble speech he could hardly refuse. His scowl lingered, however, as they downed the rest of their coffee.
It was still there, feathering around the edges of his mouth, when Mrs. Chavez bustled into the kitchen just before eight, followed in short order by Spence Harrison, Flynt Carson, Tyler Murdoch and their wives. In the space of mere minutes, the atmosphere in the kitchen went from intense to chaotic.
“Sorry, buddy.” Ruefully, Flynt explained the sudden invasion. “When I got home last night, Josie guessed something was up. I told her about the call from Del Brio. She told Ellen, who in turn relayed the news to Marisa.”
“Yes,” the statuesque Marisa Rodriguez Murdoch said with a toss of her glorious, blue-black hair, “and we are not happy, Josie and Ellen and I, that our men are such fools they did not tell us sooner so we could come and help.”
Wisely, the three fools in question kept their mouths shut and let Luke take full blame.
“Sorry. That was my doing. I asked them to keep this operation as close-hold as possible.”
“If you think we women couldn’t assist,” the fiery Spanish interpreter snapped, “then you, too, are a fool.”
“Funny,” Luke drawled. “That seems to be the general consensus this morning.”
Brushing past her husband, slender, vivacious Josie Lavender Carson crossed the kitchen. She’d met Haley only in her cover as a waitress at the Lone Star Country Club and was still obviously astounded at her real identity.
“I couldn’t believe it when Flynt told me you’re Ricky Mercado’s sister. And Lena’s mother.”
Haley stiffened, expecting reproach from the nanny Flynt had hired to care for the baby he and the others had found on the golf course, but Josie’s emerald-green eyes held only sympathy.
“It must have killed you all those months to see me holding and cuddling your child.”
“It did,” Haley confessed. “The only thing that kept me from snatching her out of your arms was knowing she was loved and well cared for.”
“Now that I have a baby of my own,” the new mother said gently, “I appreciate the courage it took for you to do what you did.”
Ellen Wagner Harrison seconded Josie’s opinion. She’d lost a husband to cancer and raised a son on her own. Until Spence turned up, dazed and bleeding from a car accident, she’d been fighting her own battle with loneliness and near desperation over finances. Her one joy—her only joy—during those dark years was her son. The thought of giving him up, even for his own safekeeping, left her aching for this woman she’d met only once or twice in the past year.
With the quiet competence that characterized her, she deposited an overnight bag on the granite counter. “Spence said you’ve been holed up here with Luke for going on two days now. I thought you might need a few things. I remembered that we’re about the same size.”
“Bless you! As you can see, I’ve been raiding Luke’s closet. I just told him a few minutes ago that I’d have to retrieve some things from my apartment if something doesn’t happen soon.”
“Del Brio hasn’t made contact?” Tyler asked sharply. “Hell, I was sure he would have delivered proof that Lena’s okay by now.”
“He did. He e-mailed a photo of her last night, right after you left.”
“Where is it?”
“In my office.”
“Hang loose, I’ll get it.”
Tyler was back a few moments later, carrying not just the printed photo but the innocuous-looking device he’d strapped onto Luke’s wrist yesterday.
“I found the picture. I also found this on the floor, under your desk.”
“And ‘this’ is?”
“Sorry. The radar transmitter I brought back yesterday from Fort Hood. Did the strap come loose?”
“No,” Luke replied with a carefully neutral expression. “I took it off.”
Haley’s face flamed. She remembered exactly when he’d unstrapped the small watchlike device. Right after its stem had left a sizable scratch on the inside of her right thigh. She’d gathered up the clothes they’d scattered all over the office floor, but had obviously missed the scanner.
Her cheeks hot, she caught Spence’s speculative glance. Thankfully the color photo of Lena diverted the keen-eyed former prosecutor’s attention. The picture was passed from hand to hand, with the women expressing excitement and relief. The men were more restrained. Flynt and Tyler left it to the lawyer to voice their collective doubts.
“The courts don’t accept computer-generated images as evidence for a reason,” Spence reminded Luke. “Are you satisfied this one’s for real?”
“I e-mailed the photo to some folks in McLean. They say it’s genuine.”
An almost palpable sense of relief spread through the kitchen.
“All right,” Tyler said briskly. “We’ve cleared the first major hurdle. Now we can concentrate on ransom delivery scenarios. We’re pretty well agreed Del Brio’s going to insist Haley deliver it in person,” he told the women. “We also suspect he wants her as much or more than he wants the cash. Luke as much as told Del Brio he won’t get his hands on either his money or his woman.”
Incredulous, Marisa swung to the man at her side. “And you thought this would make matters easier, Luke?”
“I wasn’t trying to make things easier. I was trying to throw Del Brio off balance.”
“Which you did,” Flynt said dryly. “You surely did.”
“We’ll make sure you knock him more off balance when he comes to collect the money,” Tyler put in gleefully. “Ladies, if you want to help, one of you could put on a pot of coffee while—”
“Careful, my dear husband,” Marisa cooed. “If you plan to sleep in our bed tonight, you’ll consider carefully what you were about to say.”
Blinking, the leather-tough mercenary made a quick recovery. “What I was about to say, my dear wife, is that one of you ladies could put on a fresh pot while I get more mugs down from the cupboard.”
Making no effort to hide her grin, Ellen volunteered for coffee duty. Soon the scent of rich Colombian blend percolated through the kitchen, and all four couples gathered at the weathered cypress table to strategize possible ransom delivery scenarios.
Three couples, Haley corrected silently as she swept a quick glance around the assembled group. Taciturn Flynt and vivacious Josie so obviously belonged together. As did Spence and his quiet, competent Ellen. Tyler and Marisa struck so many sparks off each other they generated a heat all their own.
She and Luke were the odd ones out. Their tangled pasts had brought everyone else to this place and this time, yet theirs was also the most nebulous relationship. It consisted of one part passion, two parts worry for their daughter, with a large dash of uncertainty thrown in to spice things up even more. Frank wasn’t the only one Luke had thrown off balance.
Haley might have decided to put all discussion about last night on ice, but Luke soon discovered his buddies were less reticent. Spence waited only until the four men had walked down to the lake for more practice with the wrist-radar to fall into his prosecuting-attorney mode.
“So what’s with you and Haley?”
“Besides a mutual concern for our child? Nothing you need to know about.”
“Bull! There was so much electricity between the two of you when we arrived, the air had turned blue. Then there’s the matter of that little toy strapped to your wrist. Haley colored up like a Christmas tree when Tyler asked how it got under your desk.”
“Come on, Luke,” Tyler put in. “Give. How did it get under there?”
“None of your damned business.”
Flynt spoke up for the first time. “That’s where you’re wrong, buddy. It is our business. We’re in this all the way with you. And we need to know you won’t do something stupid when and if Del Brio mak
es a grab for Haley.”
“Such as?”
“Such as offering yourself as a target in order to get a clean shot at him.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him down,” Luke said softly, savagely. “Neither Haley nor Lena will be safe until he’s out of the picture. Now one of you walk out fifty yards or so and let me get a read on you.”
Yesterday afternoon’s practice session had provided Luke a general feel for the variations in vibrations the radar returned when it encountered an object. This time he kept all three friends outside in the blazing sun until he was satisfied he could differentiate between their individual radar signatures. As Tyler had reported, the radar was so precise and the vibrations so fine-tuned, Luke should be able to track Del Brio with no difficulty…once he got him away from Lena and Haley.
“You should be okay if only Del Brio shows,” Tyler muttered, dragging his forearm across his forehead. “If he brings more than one or two others with him, things could get dicey. Sure you don’t want one of us to go along with you?”
“I can’t risk it.”
Flynt clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We won’t be more than a radio call away. I’ve got my chopper fueled and ready. Once we know the target area, Justin will mobilize his Air Ops Branch. The C.O.’s lined up military air out of Corpus Christi. The FBI’s ready to roll. One signal from you, and we’re on Del Brio like dirt on a dog.”
“The C.O.? You read Colonel Westin in on this?”
“I did. He’s flying in this afternoon. Should be here anytime now.”
Luke’s pulse kicked up a few notches. Once their old commanding officer arrived on the scene, they’d come close to constituting a team again. The only one missing was Ricky Mercado.
“Anyone seen or heard from Ricky since his father was hit?” Luke asked.
“No,” Spence replied. “He dropped completely out of sight. My guess is he’s either cut his losses and run or he’s hunting Del Brio himself.”
“There’s a third option we have to consider,” Luke reminded them. “According to Haley, Frank doesn’t trust the son any more than the father. He might have taken Ricky out.”
For Haley’s sake, he hoped he was wrong. As strong as she was, even Haley might break under the strain of losing another of her family.
The need to protect her blazed fierce and hot. She’d suffered enough. Endured enough. Luke was damned if he’d let anyone hurt her again.
“Move back down to the lake, Spence. I want more practice with this radar unit.”
Haley had thought the waiting was bad before. The twenty-four hours following Frank’s e-mail left both her nerves and her patience as thin and as brittle as new ice.
The presence of Luke’s friends helped. Some. The men refused to display anything but calm confidence. Their wives were warm and supportive. Gradually, Haley got to know the women and they, in turn, came to understand the stress she’d lived with for so many years.
Phillip Westin’s arrival late that afternoon provided a welcome distraction. Tall, lean and leather-tough, the marine colonel reminded Haley instantly of a middle-aged Clint Eastwood. She couldn’t help but notice how his former troops squared their shoulders, sucked in their stomachs and peppered their conversation with “Yes, sir” and “No, sir” whenever they addressed him.
After demanding to know how the heck this bunch of “jar heads” had wound up with such smart, beautiful women, Westin got right down to business. For the rest of the day and a good part of the next, the entire group gathered around the kitchen table, reviewing possible scenarios, postulating potential actions, dissecting every conceivable response.
Frank finally sent the ransom delivery instructions that hot Wednesday evening. They came in the form of another e-mail, short and to the point.
Farm Road 1306.
8.6 miles past intersection with Highway 48.
7 p.m.
Tonight.
“Hell,” Tyler muttered, peering over Luke’s shoulder. “That’s less than an hour from now. You and Haley will have to make tracks to reach the designated rendezvous by seven.”
“We’ll reach it,” Luke vowed. “You guys just take care of the satellite coverage of the area and get the aircraft in the air.”
“Will do, buddy.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
Her heart pounding, Haley accepted a round of fierce hugs from both the men and the women. She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as the team sprang into action like a well-oiled military machine.
Fifteen
Luke’s years with OP-12 had taught him that there was only one absolute certainty when it came to field operations.
If something could go wrong, it would.
There was no way to plan for every contingency. No way to account for every variable. Yet he tried to cover as many as possible with Haley during the long, tense drive to the designated site.
“There’ll still be some daylight left when we get there. That’s good for Frank, not as good for us.”
“I know.”
“Del Brio may have checkpoints set up. If so, one of his men will pat you down for weapons.”
“I know.”
Haley stared straight ahead, her palms clammy on the steering wheel of Luke’s pickup. The big, heavy truck was dusty, utilitarian and fitted with sheets of steel inside the door panels. Tyler and Flynt had rigged the shields themselves.
“If there’s any exchange of fire while we’re in the vehicle, you hit the deck. Got that, Haley? You go down and stay down.”
She dragged her tongue over dry lips. “I’ve got it.”
“Once we’re on the scene, we’ll both exit the vehicle. Odds are Frank will instruct you to walk toward him with the briefcase, but you don’t take a step until you see Lena. Once we’ve established her exact position and are sure she’s not in the line of fire, you go forward. At an angle.”
“I know.”
“Whatever happens, don’t get between me and Del Brio.”
Biting on her lower lip, Haley forced down a rush of hot, bitter nausea. She understood how important it was to maintain a clear field for Luke’s radar scanner to pinpoint Frank’s position. She also understood that the same clear field gave Frank an unobstructed shot at Luke.
She’d already decided she wouldn’t let Frank take that shot. He’d destroyed her family, murdered her mother, almost killed her father. God only knew where her brother was now. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, let Del Brio destroy Luke, too.
That resolve deepened with every mile the traveled along Farm Road 1306. Sensing how tightly strung she was, Luke had her read the odometer out loud, marking each mile from the turnoff, then every tenth of a mile along the two-lane dirt road.
“Eight point one,” she read, wrenching her gaze from the road that cut straight as an arrow through range land dotted with creosote and mesquite.
“Eight point two.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven. We’re late.”
“Just keep going. Tell me what you see.”
“Nothing. No cattle. No horses. No houses. Just miles of barbed-wire fence on both sides of the road. Whoever owns this patch of south Texas hasn’t put the land to use.”
“That’s no doubt why Frank chose it. What’s the odometer reading?”
“Eight point four.”
“Look down the road. See anything?”
“No!” Her stomach roiling, she slowed the truck and read off the last two increments. “Eight point five. Eight point six.”
She stood on the brakes. The pickup fishtailed to a stop in the middle of the road.
“There’s no one here!”
“Look around. Any hills or trees they could be parked behind, watching our approach?”
Her nerves screaming, she scanned the flat terrain. “No. Nothing bigger than an anthill. All I can see is scrub and— Oh, my God!”
Frantic, she scrabbled for the door handle. Luke wrapped an iron fist around
her arm and yanked her down in her seat.
“Talk to me! Tell me what you see.”
“There’s something caught on the upper strand of the fence just to my left. At first glance, I thought it was a dead animal, but I think… Oh, Luke, I’m sure! It’s the stuffed rabbit Lena was holding in the picture Frank e-mailed. And there’s a note pinned to it!”
She made another lunge for the door. Once again he hauled her back. “It could be a booby trap.”
Instantly sobered, Haley gave him her full attention.
“We’ll get out of the truck on my side,” he told her. “We take one step at a time. Only one. You’ll have to be my eyes.”
“Tell me what to look for.”
“Depressions in the dirt. Trip wires. A light beam. A pile of grass. Broken creosote branches.”
By the time they got within five feet of the stuffed toy, the sleeveless cotton blouse Ellen had brought Haley was damp with sweat. She shook so hard she could barely read the note. “It says to turn right at the next intersection, go twenty-two miles north, head west on 329 to an abandoned farmhouse. We’ve got thirty minutes to get there.”
Luke pushed out a long breath and reached for the cell phone in his shirt pocket. One click activated the Voice Recognition System and brought his team up on the net.
“Look like Frank is going to send us chasing across half of Texas.” Swiftly, he repeated the instructions Haley had just read. “Get a satellite lock on the abandoned farmhouse. We’re on the way there now.”
Snapping the phone shut, he took Haley’s elbow. She should have been the one steering him back to the truck, but he gave her as much or more support than she gave him.
They found another note at the farmhouse, this one directing them to a phone booth at a gas station halfway to San Angelo. Dusk crept across the rolling hills as the pickup sped across Texas. Early stars glowed bright in the lavender sky. Haley didn’t spare the sky more than a glance. She kept her eyes on the road ahead and the accelerator hard against the floorboard.
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