The Rivals

by Joan Johnston

  She couldn’t help wanting more. She knew the chemistry between them was something special. She liked him and admired him. And she trusted him. Which was a lot to say based on such short acquaintance. Could you fall in love with a man over a weekend? Sarah was afraid she had.

  She lifted her face to his for one last kiss and said, “We’d better get moving.”

  They walked hand in hand to the bedroom and dressed in companionable silence. As though they were already a married couple, Sarah thought. She flushed, then glanced at Drew and realized he had no way of discerning her thoughts.

  He smiled when he saw her eyes on him and said, “I’ll bring my pickup, in case we need to drive around looking for them.”

  “Good. I’ll meet you at my house,” Sarah said.

  Drew helped her put on her coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck and placed one more kiss on her mouth before he shoved her out his kitchen door ahead of him.

  Sarah basked in the warm afterglow of feeling loved—even though she knew it wasn’t the real thing—all the way home.

  Alarm bells went off when she pulled up to the house and found the pickup gone. She’d left the keys for the truck in a kitchen drawer in case of emergency, but she’d warned Nate, “It better be a real emergency, or you aren’t going to be driving again until summer!”

  Drew was right behind her as she hurried into the house and called out, “Anybody home?”

  No answer.

  She hurried to the phone to check the answering machine, to see if the kids had left her a message.

  And found a handwritten note from Brooke on the counter. Her heart nearly stopped when she read it.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered.

  “What is it?” Drew asked.

  She handed him the note without speaking. Her heart squeezed in terror as she read it again along with Drew.

  Dear Mom,

  Nate and Ryan and I are following the directions you got over the phone this morning to that hideout in Game Creek Canyon. I did that pencil thing over the outline of your writing on the notepad so I could read what you wrote. We plan to meet up with you there, but if we don’t, you’ll know where we are. Love,

  Brooke

  Sarah’s throat had swollen closed by the time she got to the “Love” Brooke had squeezed in as an afterthought above her signature.

  “My kids,” she choked out as she turned to Drew, tears springing to her eyes. “My kids were out in that storm. I’ve got to find them.”

  Sarah headed for the door, but Drew hooked her arm and turned her around.

  “Let go of me!” she snarled.

  Drew had both her arms now, and was holding tight, so Sarah couldn’t pull free.

  “I’m scared shitless, too,” he said. “But think, Sarah! Niles Taylor may be able to tell us exactly where Kate is being held. We’d have a better chance of finding your kids if we know where they might end up.”

  “I can’t wait,” Sarah wailed. “They might be—” Sarah couldn’t say what she feared. If Nate and Brooke and Ryan hadn’t found shelter, they might have frozen to death in the storm. Her best hope was that they’d found the place where Kate was being held captive and were holed up with her.

  Then she envisioned what the men who’d brutally murdered Lourdes Ramirez would do to her children if they found them. She stared into Drew’s agonized eyes and moaned.

  He pulled her into his embrace, and Sarah held on tight.

  “Just hang on,” he muttered in her ear. “We’ll find them, Sarah. I promise you, we’ll find them.”

  Sarah swallowed over the painful knot in her throat and said, “They’re alive, holed up somewhere. I just know it. My kids are resourceful. And smart. And—”

  Her voice hitched and quavered, and Drew folded her more tightly into his arms. His own voice wasn’t too steady as he said, “And when we do find them, I intend to give those disobedient whelps a good piece of my mind!”

  Sarah realized he sounded exactly like…a parent.

  20

  Drew was surprised, when he and Sarah drove up to King Grayhawk’s ranch house at Kingdom Come, to find Niles Taylor just arriving. The ten-thousand-

  square-foot log house, with its immense stone chimney, was set on a beautiful hillside surrounded by aspens and evergreens and had a breathtaking view of the Grand Tetons.

  Niles stepped out of a chauffeur-driven limo and smiled broadly. “Why, hello, Drew. What brings you here?”

  “Same thing that brings you here, I expect,” Drew replied. He didn’t reach out to take the hand Niles extended, and the other man withdrew it with a frown.

  “I see you’ve got a deputy with you,” Niles said, eyeing Sarah.

  “That’s Detective Barndollar to you,” Sarah said in a cold voice.

  Drew watched as Niles surveyed the other cars parked along the circular drive. “Looks like quite a few folks were invited to this shindig.” He stared up at the imposing house, then back at Drew and Sarah, then at the open limo door.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Drew said.

  Niles smiled and gave the door a little push. It closed with an expensive-sounding thunk. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving before I see who’s come to the party.”

  Drew felt Sarah bristle beside him as they followed Niles up a stone walk to the front door. Niles didn’t get a chance to ring the brass bell announcing his arrival before one of the double front doors opened and North Grayhawk said, “Come in, Niles.”

  Drew saw the older man stiffen when he realized that Blackjack and Clay were standing beside the stone fireplace, while King sat in a leather chair near the fire.

  Drew heard Sarah draw a sharp breath when they entered the great room, which had a thirty-foot ceiling framed by log beams and featured a second-story walkway leading from one side of the house to the other. Oak floors shone beneath an impressive central chandelier made of elk and deer and moose antlers. Floor-to-ceiling stone covered the wall that held the fireplace, where a cheery fire crackled.

  It was as good a place as any for a showdown, Drew supposed.

  “Come in and take a seat, Niles,” King said.

  “I’d rather stand,” Niles said, eyeing the two Blackthorne men at the fireplace and watching as Sarah and Drew crossed to join them.

  “We weren’t expecting you, Detective Barndollar,” King said. “But you’re welcome.”

  Sarah gave King a jerky nod, then focused her gaze once more on Niles.

  “You might wonder why I’ve asked you here,” King began.

  “I have a pretty good idea,” Niles said sardonically.

  “Shut up,” King said, stamping his cane on the floor with a sharp crack of wood against wood and then rising to his full imposing height. “I’ll make this simple. Tell me where my granddaughter is.”

  “What are you offering me if I do?” Niles said.

  Drew heard Sarah suck in a gasp of air at this blatant admission that Niles knew where Kate Grayhawk was.

  “I’ll let you live,” King said.

  “I’m making no promises,” Blackjack said.

  Niles blanched. “I’m not going to tell anyone who Kate Grayhawk is.” He glanced at Clay and said, “I mean, that she’s your daughter.”

  “What makes you think Kate Grayhawk is my daughter?” Clay said.

  “You’re here, aren’t you,” Niles said snidely. “I know the truth about you and your bastard brat. That should have been enough to keep you dancing like a puppet on a string for years. But no,” he snarled, “that wasn’t good enough. He said we had to set you up with the girl and take pictures.”

  “Who are you working for?” North demanded. “Who’s in charge of this filthy racket?”

  Niles’s eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Maybe I do have some negotiating room here.” He turned to Clay and said, “I’ll tell you his name for a pass on investigating the consortium.”

  “No deal,” Clay said. “You’re going to jail. With any luck, you won’t have
a pot to piss in when you do.”

  “You sure as hell aren’t going to be the one prosecuting me,” Niles shot back. “You’re going to be resigning in disgrace!”

  “Where’s my granddaughter?” King repeated, reminding them why they were all there.

  “Are my three children with her?” Sarah asked.

  Drew saw surprise on Niles’s face before he answered, “Why would anyone want to kidnap your kids?”

  Drew watched Sarah clamp her teeth to keep her jaw from quivering and said, “The detective’s children are missing. We think they headed up Game Creek Canyon before the storm.”

  “I don’t know anything about them,” Niles said.

  “Sarah and Clay each got an anonymous call giving directions to where Kate is supposedly being kept,” Drew said.

  “Then why do you need my help finding her?” Niles snapped.

  “We need to know how accurate the directions we got are,” Drew said.

  “They’re good,” Clay interjected.

  Drew frowned and said, “How do you know?”

  “Because the ‘anonymous’ man who called was Governor Harvey Donnelly. Harvey and I roomed together in college. When he heard what happened to me, Harvey called to say the same thing had happened to him. One of the guys who removed the body when he was blackmailed bragged about how they’d kept the girl captive in Game Creek Canyon.

  “Harvey went up there afterward and found the spot where the tent they’d used had been set up. He said there was no guarantee it would be in the same place this time, but because these guys lacked imagination, he’d be willing to bet it wouldn’t be far off.”

  “Where is Kate being held, exactly?” Blackjack said, taking a menacing step toward Niles.

  Niles took a half step back, then stopped and squared his shoulders. “I want a guarantee—”

  Without warning, King swung his oak cane, which landed with a bone-crunching thwack across Niles’s solar plexus, doubling him in half.

  Niles grabbed his belly and retched.

  Drew looked at Sarah to see whether she would protest this brutal assault, but her jaw was clamped and her hands were knotted into fists.

  “Where is Kate?” King said in a steely voice. “You’ve got thirty seconds to tell me before I brain you with this thing.”

  Niles put his hands up to cover his head, but was still unable to stand up straight. “You’re the law,” he said to Sarah. “Do something! Help me.”

  “I won’t let him kill you,” Sarah said.

  But it was clear to Drew, if not to Niles, that she wouldn’t stop King much short of it.

  Niles coughed and gagged and said, “She’s up Game Creek Canyon.”

  “How far?” Sarah demanded. “How do we get there?”

  “I don’t know,” Niles admitted. “I never went there myself.”

  “How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Sarah demanded.

  “Because a worm like him wouldn’t soil his hands doing his own dirty work,” North said in disgust.

  “Get out of my sight, you slimy bastard,” King said.

  Niles turned and stumbled toward the door, fumbling to get it open and slamming it closed behind him as he left.

  “Are you just going to let him go?” Sarah asked incredulously.

  “He’s not going far,” Clay said. “The FBI is waiting for him at the airport.”

  “How do we find Kate?” Sarah asked. “And my kids?”

  “We follow the directions Harvey gave us,” Clay said.

  “What are we waiting for?” Drew said. “Let’s go.”

  21

  Drew couldn’t help feeling that any second the mountain of snow above him was going to slide down. His heart rate had skyrocketed as the walls of Game Creek Canyon began to rise on either side of them. He caught himself holding his breath until his chest ached and realized he was anticipating an avalanche that never came. He forced himself to breathe evenly, or as evenly as he could.

  He glanced at Clay and saw his cousin was having an even worse time of it than he was. He knew Clay had never really recovered from the experience of digging him out of the snow on 25 Short. Clay was sweating profusely, and his jaw was set in a grimace of determination. But he’d never once suggested slowing down or turning back.

  Which any sane person would have done.

  By the time he and Sarah and Clay and Libby had met at Game Creek Road, just south of Jackson on Highway 191, conditions were perfect for an avalanche. Tons of snow had been dumped in the storm, and a warm, gusty chinook wind had blown in right behind it, windloading the powdery snow on angled slopes and sending the clouds scattering, making way for a surprisingly hot morning sun.

  Considering the danger involved in snowshoeing up the trail, Drew had asked Sarah why they couldn’t make a quick trip over the canyon in a helicopter looking for the four missing kids.

  “I’ve already had someone up in a Bell 407 taking a look,” she admitted. “But he didn’t see anything from the air, which isn’t really surprising. Otherwise, that hideout would have been discovered long ago. He also didn’t see any sign of Nate or Brooke or Ryan.”

  Drew mentally acknowledged how impossible it would have been to discern three small, snow-covered bodies from the air.

  “It’s dangerous to fly too low with the avalanche conditions what they are,” Sarah said. “Vibrations from above could start an avalanche as easily as one misstep on the ground.

  “Which is also why we’re snowshoeing rather than taking snowmobiles,” she said.

  Because of the deep, powdery snow, Sarah had suggested they use snowshoes instead of skis. Motorized vehicles weren’t allowed in the wilderness areas of Game Creek, but Sarah had apparently considered using them anyway.

  “I’ve got a GPS to mark our location if and when we need to call for help,” she said.

  Drew and Sarah, and Clay and Libby, and Libby’s two redbone coonhounds had traveled about three miles along the bottom of the canyon when they reached a fork in the trail. Drew was surprised to see snowmobile tracks. Someone had been there before them earlier that same day after the snow had stopped falling.

  “What do you think?” Clay asked Drew. “The kidnapper?”

  He turned to Sarah and said, “Guess someone isn’t as worried as you are about their motorized vehicle starting an avalanche.”

  “Someone is taking his life in his hands,” Sarah snapped.

  That was the most she’d said in the thirty minutes it had taken them to get to the fork in the trail.

  “I’ve been thinking about who might be anxious enough to risk coming up this trail in these avalanche conditions,” Drew said. “I keep coming up with the same answer.”

  “It’s some kid who wants to ride his snowmobile in all this powder,” Sarah said.

  “Or someone who knows about that hideout up there and what’s in it and wants to check on it after the storm,” Drew said. “Maybe even the person who kidnapped Kate.”

  “I hope the hell that is who it is,” Clay said. “When I get my hands on—”

  “There isn’t going to be any vigilante justice,” Sarah said. “If we catch someone with Kate, I’ll arrest him.”

  “You’re on administrative leave,” Drew reminded her. But he knew for a fact she was carrying the replacement Glock, and he didn’t think a little technicality like not being on duty was going to keep her from arresting anyone she thought needed arresting.

  “As long as Kate is found safe and sound,” Clay said, “I don’t give a damn what you do with anyone else you find.”

  Drew noticed nobody suggested the possibility that Kate might not be found safe and sound.

  “It’s amazing to me that someone would hide a kidnap victim so close to town,” Libby said.

  “The less traveling a kidnapper has to do with a body in the trunk, the better,” Sarah said. “Besides, this terrain is rugged enough to discourage anyone skiing off the trail. And that hideout has to be well hidden to go undet
ected by the forest service, since they’re up here all the time.”

  “If that snowmobile is being ridden by the kidnapper, why didn’t he bother hiding his tracks?” Libby asked.

  “Good point,” Drew said.

  “There’s no reason to hide his tracks—until he leaves the trail,” Sarah pointed out.

  “So we should be watching for a place to the side of the trail where the snow is disturbed, where this guy might have brushed out his tracks?” Drew asked.

  “Exactly,” Sarah said. “With any luck, he’ll only try to hide them for a while, and we can pick up his trail again in the rough.”

  “The dogs can help us with that,” Libby said. She put Doc and Snoopy on the trail of the snowmobile, and not far up the canyon they bounded off into the undergrowth.

  “He did a pretty good job of hiding the fact that he left the main trail,” Libby said when they reached the spot.

  “Which makes it unlikely that this was a kid enjoying the powder,” Drew said.

  “It doesn’t look like there’s much room to take a snowmobile between all that foliage,” Clay said, his eyes narrowed as he gauged the dense undergrowth through which they would have to travel.

  “There’s got to be a trail,” Sarah said. “All we have to do is follow where the snowmobile leads us.”

  “Are we sure this is the way to go?” Drew asked. “Does this jibe with what Donnelly said?”

  “He said we should turn off the main trail into the wilderness at a blazed tree about twenty minutes after the fork,” Sarah said. “We haven’t gone that far yet, but I suppose whoever is on that snowmobile knows a quicker, easier way to get where we’re hopefully going.”

  “If we’re going, let’s go,” Clay said.

  “Day’s wasting.” Drew had heard Blackjack use the same expression to his cowhands when they began a roundup. He watched as Clay pushed out ahead of everyone, with Libby on his heels, both of them following the two coonhounds, whose noses were leading them ever higher up the canyon.