Cowboy Tough

by Stacy Finz

  She wanted to stall, find her phone or anything she could use as a weapon, but Corbin jammed the barrel of what she could now plainly see was a pistol against her arm. Slowly, she opened the door and slid out, trying to get her bearings.

  “This is crazy, Corbin.” She wanted to say that he would never get away with whatever maniacal plan he had in store but she was wrong. No one would ever find her here. He could dump her remains in the rushing river, dispose of her car, and make up an alibi. No one would ever be the wiser.

  “We’ve got a lot of talking to do, Char. A lot of catching up.”

  “Oh God.” She shuddered. Before, Corbin had always seemed sane, just mean and controlling. Now she swore he was completely off his rocker.

  * * * *

  Jace was going out of his mind. He had two technicians tracing Charlie’s GPS: the one in her vehicle and the one on her phone. Earlier, he’d put out a BOLO for Charlie’s CR-V.

  “Jace, is there a chance she just left, went to Colorado or somewhere else to hide?” Cash asked on the other end of the phone.

  “She wouldn’t have done that. What did Aubrey say? Was she there earlier?”

  “Yep, brought a client and says everything seemed normal. She locked the gate on her way out.”

  None of this made sense. If Charlie planned to leave she wouldn’t have taken off in the middle of the day, leaving the boys stranded. And he’d like to think she wouldn’t have taken off without at least saying goodbye.

  “Sawyer went to the house. Her suitcase, her clothes, everything is still there. Her sewing machines are in the workshop. She wouldn’t have left without them.” Or without at least leaving a note. These last two months had to have meant something to her. “This doesn’t smell right, Cash. Ainsley saw the picture, figured out where she was, and now he has her, I feel it in my gut.”

  “I’m on my way back from Placer,” Cash said. “Try to stay calm.”

  Easy for Cash to say. It wasn’t his woman.

  Reggie came into his office. “Jace, we may have gotten something.”

  “Cash, I’ve gotta go.” Jace gave his full attention to the watch commander.

  “No luck with her phone. It’s probably turned off,” Reggie said. “But her car has HondaLink, which has an OnStar-type service that can track the location of her car. We’re talking to an adviser from the company, trying to determine whether we need a search warrant.”

  “A search warrant?” Jace’s head was about to explode.

  Reggie held up his hands. “Jace, we’re operating on the theory that her ex abducted her. There’s no evidence that that’s the case. Come on, man, think like a cop. Think about HondaLink’s exposure here.”

  Jace counted to ten, trying to hold himself in check. Screw privacy at a time like this. He knew in his heart of hearts that Ainsley had her. And every second they spent jerking off was critical.

  “Annabeth,” he bellowed. “Get the Rosie the Riveter Foundation on the phone. I want to talk to Meredith.” Jace didn’t even know Meredith’s last name. But the organization had been used as a shill to purchase Charlie’s car, and perhaps Meredith could talk some sense into Honda or whoever the hell owned the car service application.

  Annabeth appeared in the doorway. “Deputy Anderson just called. He found a Porsche Cayman hidden in a grove of trees just off Dry Creek Road, about a half mile from your ranch. Plates come back to Corbin Ainsley.”

  Jace pinned Reggie with a look.

  “I’m on it.”

  “Send HondaLink a copy of the goddamn restraining order,” Jace called to Reggie as he jogged down the hall.

  Ainsley was sloppy. You’d think a guy with a freaking law degree would’ve planned this out better. Jace should’ve been elated by Ainsley’s mistakes. Instead, it scared him to death. The man was operating like he had nothing to lose, which in Jace’s mind could only mean one thing.

  * * * *

  Corbin dragged Charlotte by the back of her collar to the river’s edge. She patted her pockets, foolishly searching for her phone.

  Corbin laughed. “You left it in your purse on the floor of the car, Char. Hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of chucking your battery into the woods while you were screwing around with that piece-of-shit gate. Besides, who you going to call? Nine-one-one? Think they’ll find you in time?”

  She couldn’t even tell anyone where she was. Near a river. There were about half a dozen in Mill County alone. She shivered, thinking about how isolated they were.

  “Oh Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte.” He glanced her over. “Should’ve worn a jacket. Then again you never had the sense God gave geese, now did you?”

  Corbin looked disheveled, like he’d slept in the same clothes for a week. Charlotte remembered how persnickety he used to be about his suits. God forbid the dry cleaner used those tiny safety pins to tack his pants to the paper hanger. He’d fly into a rage, threatening to put them out of business.

  “By the way, your dyke sister’s been looking for you. There’s another one who’s dumber than a doornail.” He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, Charlotte, huh?”

  “Corbin—”

  “Did I ask you to talk?” He pushed her onto the hard ground. “Do you know how much I loved you? How much I wanted to take care of you? Always with that shop. That ridiculous shop. Here I was, giving you a house in Presidio Heights and it still wasn’t good enough. Anything you wanted, I gave you. Anything. But none of it was good enough. Not my name, not my child, not my love. Not a goddamned thing.”

  She felt around her for a fallen branch or a rock, anything with which to hit Corbin over the head. “I loved you too, Corbin. Maybe we could start over again.” The idea filled her throat with bile.

  “I wouldn’t take you back if you were the last woman on earth. You’re a disloyal bitch. And a fucking drama queen. You’d think I’d chained you to the wall and forced you to eat cockroaches the way you ran from me. You know how many times I had to lie about you to my father?”

  “Where’s Charlotte?”

  “She’s in Portland, her mother’s sick.”

  “How come Charlotte’s not here?”

  “She’s under the weather.”

  “Did Charlotte leave you, Corbin?”

  “What are you crazy? Charlotte and I are forever, Dad.”

  He looked down at her on the dirt, drew his leg back, and kicked her in the side. Hard. Charlotte doubled over.

  “Get up.”

  She was trembling now. Not from the cold but from his flinty stare. His eyes were like dark quartz. Hard and unyielding. He lifted the gun and she froze.

  Oh God, this is it.

  “I said get up!”

  Even from where she lay sprawled on the ground, she could smell him. Booze and desperation. His hand shook ever so slightly. And for a second, she thought, Just kill me. Get it over with and put me out of my misery.

  Just as quickly, a red-hot rage overtook her. This man had held her hostage long enough. He’d irrevocably changed her life. And why? Because she’d loved him and hadn’t been strong enough—or smart enough—to realize that love shouldn’t be binding. It shouldn’t control a person. It shouldn’t make them bleed and turn black and blue.

  He was yelling now. His face red and puffy and distorted. Her anger, rushing through her like a torrent, drowned out the sound of his voice. It was as if he’d become a character in a silent movie. All his movements exaggerated, but no words.

  You’re brave, Charlie. Take your life back. Jace’s words roared in her head.

  Charlotte didn’t think. She didn’t allow fear to overwhelm her. Pretending to get up, she hurled herself at Corbin’s legs, knocking him on his back. The gun fell out of his hand and skittered a few feet away.

  She didn’t bother to scoop it off the ground—and wouldn’t have known wh
at to do with it even if she had—and ran as fast and far as she could go. She blindly headed in the direction of the road, hoping she could flag someone down for help. But the keys to her Honda were still in the car.

  She had no delusions that she’d permanently incapacitated Corbin. He wasn’t a particularly large man but he was strong. And crazy. At best, her attack had only momentarily thrown him off guard. Once he recovered, he’d have the advantage in her CR-V.

  She changed direction, running as fast as she could while searching for a good place to hide. Up ahead there was a dense thicket of pine and blue oak trees and she veered for cover. The wind whistled through the branches, making an ominous sound. At first, Charlotte thought it was Corbin coming after her. She turned to look over her shoulder, stumbled over a rock, and tumbled into a ravine covered in leaves.

  Her heart stopped. Had he seen her fall? Had he heard her? She crawled behind the trunk of a fir tree and listened. Nothing besides the sound of rushing water and the rustling of trees.

  But Corbin was out there somewhere.

  She waited for a beat, her pulse quickening. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost a shoe and her foot was bleeding.

  A twig snapped and she held her breath, wondering how visible she was. She had on a red cowl neck and blue jeans, not exactly good camouflage colors.

  Please be a forest creature, she prayed.

  The area didn’t seem well traveled by humans, at least this time of year. Perhaps it got more visitors in summer when tourists came to play in the river.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she shuddered with relief. The noise hadn’t come from Corbin.

  Still, he was searching for her, she knew that instinctively. He’d wait her out and no one would be able to find her to come to her rescue. If she had even a slight chance of surviving this, she needed to do more to conceal herself until she came up with a plan to get to the main road undetected.

  She buried herself under a mound of leaves with just enough space for a clear airway so she could breathe. The sun was starting to set and she could feel the cold air bite through her clothes. In the distance, she heard something crackle and closed her eyes, waiting for it, helpless.

  Something or someone was coming closer.

  Chapter 21

  El Dorado County sheriff deputies swarmed the South Fork American River, a short distance outside of Coloma. This was their jurisdiction, their show. But that didn’t stop Jace from rocketing ninety miles an hour across two county lines with his lights flashing and his siren blaring.

  He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed the whole way there.

  This was his fault. He’d talked Charlie into the restraining order and promised he’d protect her. A fat lot of good he’d been. Ainsley had picked her off right outside his goddamn gate in broad daylight. If he ever got his hands on the prick he was going to squeeze the life out of him.

  The problem was they hadn’t found Ainsley, only Charlie’s CR-V. HondaLink had given them the coordinates and the vehicle was right where they said it would be, along with Charlie’s purse.

  Jace paced where deputies had cordoned off the car. “You’re burning daylight,” he shouted at the lieutenant in charge of the search.

  “We’re doing the best we can, Sheriff.”

  “Not a lot of places they could’ve gone from here on foot.” Jace scanned the area. Just the river, a dirt road, and a hell of a lot of forest. “When are the dogs getting here?”

  “Any minute.” The lieutenant brushed by him, barking orders at a couple of deputies.

  “The son-of-a-bitch has her.” Jace squeezed the sides of his head with his palms. “Every second here is critical and we’ve gotta wait for the goddamn dogs?”

  Jace felt a hand on his arm.

  “Not helpful.” It was Cash. “Let them do their jobs.”

  “Where’d you come from?” Last he talked to Cash he was headed back to Dry Creek.

  “I came straight here when I heard they located her car. The boys are with Aubrey and Sawyer.”

  “I’m losing it,” Jace said. “She’s out here somewhere, she’s gotta be, and he’s got her. The son-of-a-bitch has her.”

  An El Dorado County sheriff’s van drove up and two K-9 trailing dogs jumped out of the side door with their handlers. Jace had used dogs before in lost hiker cases but Ainsley wasn’t lost, he was hiding. And Jace considered him dangerous. Best case scenario: He was holding Charlie captive in a hidey-hole somewhere in the woods. Which meant there was no room for screwups.

  “My guys and I want to go with one of the teams,” Jace told the lieutenant. Charlie’s abduction took place in Jace’s county, his department had a right.

  Cash didn’t say anything but Jace could feel his disapproval through his flak jacket. You’re too close to the victim. Too close? He was in love with Charlie. If he didn’t go in, if he wasn’t a part of the search, he’d go out of his mind.

  “All right,” the lieutenant agreed and eyed Jace’s team’s tactical gear. Everyone was suited up and ready to go.

  The handlers were letting the dogs sniff the interior of Charlie’s car and the contents of her purse. They had no scent article from Ainsley except maybe a hit from the CR-V. The going theory was that Ainsley had carjacked Charlie as she was shutting the gate and had forced her to drive here. The river was one of the most popular recreational spots in Northern California, so it didn’t surprise Jace that Ainsley would know about it. What did surprise him is that Ainsley had found a spot this remote. He either scoped out the isolated segment along the eighty-seven-mile-long river or he knew the area inside and out.

  Jace and his team went with the dog named Jenga, a black Malinois. Jenga sniffed the air and the ground and trotted off in the opposite direction of the water’s edge. A rush of relief swamped Jace. The river in this part of the fork was rough and treacherous. Even a good swimmer wouldn’t stand a chance.

  But the terrain was steep and thick with trees and underbrush. A person who knew what he was doing could go without detection for days here. Jace had no idea whether Ainsley had any kind of wilderness training. From his pictures on the internet he looked like a slick city lawyer. There’d been nothing in his bio about past military service or outdoor hobbies, just a lot of crap about Ainsley’s degrees and pedigree.

  What worried Jace the most was Ainsley spooking from the swarm of cops who had descended and doing something desperate. The problem was they didn’t have a lot options in a scenario like this. Either way, Charlie was in imminent danger.

  Jenga took a couple of winding turns and seemed to pick up a trail. But Jace wasn’t an expert on search dogs. He just knew they were the best tools in these kinds of situations.

  Soon, it would be dark. The dogs could search in the night but without light it would make it more difficult for him and his team. Everything seemed to be working against them.

  They followed Jenga as he swept through the forest. The other dog, Curry, wasn’t far behind. Fifteen, twenty minutes went by and Jace was starting to fear that Ainsley wasn’t here, that he’d taken Charlie somewhere else entirely.

  Then Jenga stopped suddenly and began to circle a mound of leaves. Jace’s men fanned out, rifles raised.

  The handler kicked away some of the leaves, revealing a red suede loafer. He signaled to Jace to come forward.

  He crouched down to take a closer look. It was Charlie’s, he was sure of it. When she wasn’t wearing her ankle boots, she wore the red shoes. They had a gold chain across the top and a small wooden heel.

  Jace’s heart sank and it took every ounce of his resolve to stay calm. She was out here somewhere. Hurt, helpless…Jace wouldn’t let himself think anything else.

  He nodded to the deputy. Someone photographed the shoe and bagged it. Jenga had already shot ahead, on to something new. And they were off again, following the dog as he took them on a
circuitous route across the forest floor.

  Jace didn’t like it. It seemed far afield from where they’d found Charlie’s shoe.

  “I’m going to circle around,” he told one of his deputies and doubled back to the way they’d come.

  The air smelled like wet compost, pine, and fear. His fear. There was a noise and his head shot up. A squirrel scurried up a branch and Jace felt himself relax.

  Up ahead, something caught his attention and he used a couple of big trees for cover as he hiked toward it. At first, he thought his eyes had been playing tricks on him. But as he got closer, a piece of torn fabric waved from a branch in the breeze. He radioed the team and without touching the cloth, made a more thorough examination. It was blue and looked to Jace like nylon. Like maybe it had come from a jacket. Charlie had a camel-colored wool coat.

  He scanned the area, theorizing about what direction the person was headed when he or she got snagged on the tree limb. North or south? East or west? Jace dropped his eyes to the ground, looking for tracks, but the leaves made it hard to see possible footprints.

  Then there it was. Three feet away he spied what looked like a fresh imprint of a tennis shoe. Maybe a men’s size ten or eleven.

  He lifted his gaze. About half a football-field-length’s away there was an outcropping of large rocks and Jace’s heart hammered in his chest.

  “What do you got?” Jenga and his handler were back.

  Jace pointed to the navy fabric and watched Jenga circle the tree and make a zigzaggy trail toward the rock outcrop. He gestured to his deputies and in formation they moved out, encircling the area.

  With his rifle raised, Jace yelled, “This is the Mill County Sheriff’s Department. We know you’re in there, Ainsley. Real slowly raise your arms and we’ll talk this out.” Presuming Ainsley was actually hiding in the rocks, there were about a million ways this could go wrong.

  El Dorado County had a hostage negotiator on hand, but Jace wanted to confirm they had Ainsley first. Jenga continued to wind around the rocks, his ears pricked forward. His handler called him back and nodded to Jace. It seemed they’d found their quarry.