by Karen Young
“You’d like that, I bet.” Tyson’s eyes had a flat, cold look. He walked over to Nick, crowding him until his back was against the wall. With one hand, he stroked the side of Nick’s face. “You’re something else, you know that? You’re your mama’s boy, all right. Here you are up to your sweet ass in shit and negotiating like a seasoned shrink.” He dropped his hand and went to the window. It was black as pitch out there and he couldn’t see a thing, Nick thought, but he stood looking out as if he was seeing something. “I’m no psycho, Nick. I had a really sweet setup here and I owe you for screwing it up.” He turned back. “I wasn’t ready to pack up and leave, but because of you and your nosy mother and that bastard Ford, I’ve got no choice.”
While Tyson was rambling on, Nick was studying the layout of the room. A single door, two windows and the tiny bathroom where Kendy was hopefully unsealing the window. It worried him that Monk made no effort to keep Nick from seeing where they were going as they’d made the drive out here. Was he going to take two kids with him when he left? If not, he didn’t like thinking what plan B was.
“So, Nick, I’m going to ask once more,” Tyson said, his eyes narrowing. “Who told you what happened to Jack Ford?”
“Moe and Curly?”
The blow landed on the side of his head, sudden and savage. Nick didn’t even see it coming, but his ears were ringing and he tasted blood. With Monk standing over him, however, he did not make the mistake of licking at it. Weird stuff turned this dude on.
“Once more and no smart-ass answers. Now. Who?”
“That wasn’t smart-ass, Coach,” Nick said, shaking his head to try to clear it. “After your…friends ran over me on my bike, they put me in the pickup between them and I heard one of them say Jack Ford was killed.”
Tyson stared at him a long moment. Then, with his eyes still locked on Nick’s, he yelled, “Zig!” More silence, then he yelled again, this time for both men. But there was still only silence from the other side of the door. Then, as Nick held his breath, he heard the pickup start and a loud revving of the engine before it was rammed into gear as Ziggy and his cohort got the hell out of Dodge.
Cam had tried to talk Rachel out of going with them, and as he pulled up at the Lone Star Lounge, he cursed the fact that she was so stubborn. The place was a dive located five miles out of town just past the county line. As such, it didn’t fall in Pete Singletary’s jurisdiction, which might explain the lax attitude of the proprietors about underage drinking. The parking lot was crowded with motorcycles. Cam was torn between leaving Rachel in the car where she was clearly unsafe, or taking her inside a hangout for bikers.
The interior was dark and smelled of beer and barbecue. The clientele, big and hairy for the most part, looked as mean as their machines. Cam remembered Jason as blond, with a slight frame and sensitive features, and thought he’d stick out here like a sore thumb.
Rachel spotted him through the smoky haze, sitting alone at a booth near the back, nursing a beer. “I think Ward was right,” she said. “We may have to sober him up before he can tell us anything useful.”
Jason glanced up as they approached without much reaction. When he spoke, it was to Ward. “If Jimbo knew you were here, he’d kick your ass.”
“I’m with Cam and Ms. Forrester. We need to talk to you, Jason,” Ward said.
Jason peered up at them. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Monk Tyson.” Cam nudged Ward into the booth beside Jason, then he and Rachel sat down facing them. “And we don’t have a lot of time to waste. Nick disappeared from the ball field tonight just before the game ended. We think Tyson’s responsible, but he’s nowhere to be found. Can you help us?”
“Oh, shit.” Jason dropped his face in his hands.
“You don’t sound surprised,” Rachel said.
Jason raised his eyes. “Monk sometimes gets obsessed with different guys. He’s hot for Nick, but I knew he wasn’t gonna be as easy pickings as some.”
“Like me?” Ward asked.
“And me.” Jason lifted the bottle to take another drink, but Cam stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
“Jason. If you have any idea where Monk could have taken Nick, we need you to tell us.”
“Every minute counts, Jason,” Rachel said. “He may have my daughter, too. She’s only nine.”
Head down, Jason rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He gave no indication if he was truly trying to think where Nick or Kendy could be or if he was undecided about revealing whatever he knew. “There’s a hunting lodge,” he said finally. “It’s a few miles from here down an old ranch road. It’s pretty isolated, which is why Monk likes it for certain things.” He turned his face, looking at a light fixture of deer antlers. “He took me there pretty often at first.”
Breaking him in, Cam thought. “You think you can find it?” It was a long shot, but without any other leads, it made sense to check it out.
“Yeah, I can find it.”
Outside the Lone Star, Cam placed a call to Pete before they got on the road while Jason went to get something from his car. The cabin was nearly an hour from Rose Hill, which meant they would be at the lodge before any help from Pete’s cops had time to make the trip. Pete, however, put more credence in a report that two people, both unidentified males, had left the Rose Hill airstrip in a chartered light plane. The mechanic at the airstrip assumed they were father and son. He overheard the pilot say their destination was Monterrey.
Rachel was already belted in the SUV, but Cam stood outside debating whether the trip to the lodge was worth making in light of Pete’s suspicion that Tyson was already airborne. Rachel wanted to press on. “There was no mention of Kendy,” she said, strain beginning to tell on her. “We’re here now. If we turned around, what would we do, just sit at home and do nothing? Let’s check it out, Cam.”
“You’re right. Where’s Jason?” Cam peered over the top of the SUV and a tangle of parked motorcycles, searching. Finally, he saw Jason making his way through a sea of mean machines carrying a shotgun.
“What the hell!” Rounding the front of the SUV in long strides, he reached for the gun. “Is that thing loaded?”
Jason handed it over. “Coach is one mean bastard. His back’s to the wall and he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to get out of Texas. You may not think you’ll need it, but if you do and you don’t have it, we’ll be up shit creek.”
“We don’t have time to waste, Cam,” Rachel said quietly.
With a grunt, Cam stowed the shotgun on the floor behind the driver’s seat as Jason climbed in the back beside Ward. Before buckling up, he leaned forward to drop six shells in the console tray. Then, without a word, Cam pulled away from the Lone Star and, after a few minutes, felt the urge to smile in spite of the urgency of his mission. His life had taken turns so unexpected lately that if he’d written it in one of his books, his editor would have hooted.
It was almost midnight when Jason directed them to a turn off the highway onto the ranch road. Not much of a road, Cam thought, more like a wagon trail through what had once been a pasture. It might still be a pasture, although there was no sign of any living thing except swarms of night insects caught in the glow of his headlights.
“You still with us, Jason?” he asked, checking via the rearview mirror as Jason’s head lolled on his chest. “Ward, wake him up.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Rubbing his eyes, Jason sat up a little straighter, then almost instantly began to sink again.
“Keep him awake, Ward.” This was the second time in less than four days that he’d chauffeured a drunk teenager, Cam thought, bracing as the SUV bounced along the rutted cow track. And both times in the middle of the night on deserted country roads. He thought of the shotgun on the floor and simply shook his head.
Rachel, alert in the front seat, suddenly leaned forward. “I thought I saw lights through those trees.”
Cam had seen the same thing. Then, without warning, bright headlights were r
ushing at them. With no time for thought, Cam could only wrench the wheel to the right to avoid colliding head-on and ride it out. The rogue vehicle charged past them, shaking the SUV like a flag in a wind-storm and throwing up a blinding cloud of dust that forced Cam to stop.
“Mercy,” Rachel murmured, bracing herself on the front dash.
“Jeez!” Ward was turned around in his seat squinting through dust and darkness, trying to get a fix on the vehicle. “It’s a pickup, but—”
“That was Ziggy’s truck,” Jason said, wide awake now. He was turned in his seat, too, with a troubled look on his face.
Cam reversed and got back on the road. But instead of heading on toward the lodge, he sat with the SUV idling. “Why would anyone leave the lodge in the middle of the night?”
“Why would Ziggy even be at the lodge tonight?” Jason asked.
“If he’s the one who took Kendy, maybe she’s at the lodge.” Rachel wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not.
Ward settled back in the seat. “Maybe it’s a good thing we’ve got that shotgun.”
Cam passed his cell phone to Rachel. “Call Pete and tell him what happened. Tell him to send a unit to apprehend Ziegler.”
“Don’t go to that lodge,” Pete ordered when she told him. “Tell Cam to wait for backup. You don’t know who’s there. I’m sending another unit.”
“What if Kendy’s there, Pete?” Holding the cell phone, Rachel stared anxiously into the night. “What would those men be doing out here if not following Monk’s orders? Maybe both my children are there. It’ll take your people almost an hour to get out here. That much time could make all the difference between…” She paused, unable to say it. “We can’t wait, Pete.”
Pete was silent, then gave a sigh. “Tell Cam to be careful.”
Shock and disbelief had gripped Tyson for a beat or two after Ziggy and Jay turned tail and ran. Then, enraged, he grabbed Nick and dragged him across the room, jerked open the bathroom door and shoved him inside with Kendall. “Both of you, stay in there!”
Little choice, Nick thought, putting out a hand and squeezing Kendy’s shoulder. It was pitch black now. She must have turned off the light in case they looked in and found her prying the window open. “You still okay?” he asked.
“Uh-huh. And I’ve almost got the window open.” Without wasting a second, he began feeling around the edges to see how much needed to be done to get her out of here. “Kendy, we don’t have much time, so I’ll make it quick. When we get this thing open, I’ll boost you up and you drop to the ground outside. But don’t go too deep into the woods, otherwise, it’ll be hard to find you when the rescuers arrive.”
“I already thought of that,” she said. “And I need to use this pen to try to break that tape so your hands will be free.”
“After we get the window open,” he said. “We better leave the light off in case he comes around the back and sees we’ve been monkeying with it.” Then, feeling his way, he picked up where she’d left off.
As he worked, he heard bumping and thumping and cussing coming from the outer room. Apparently, having Ziggy and Jay cut out on Tyson had really pissed him off. Why it made him so mad, Nick didn’t have a clue, unless he had in mind setting up another scheme to snuff Nick out the way he’d done to get rid of Jack Ford. Maybe the reason he was so ticked was that he’d have to do it himself this time.
But while Tyson was busy being mad and breaking things, Nick used the time to finish freeing up the window. He didn’t like being locked in a matchbox, but it beat being out there with The Man and possibly become the target for Tyson’s ferocious temper. Or his sick sexual preferences.
“Got it!” he said. Then he fumbled in the dark to give the pen back to Kendy. “Poke a few holes in this duct tape if you can,” he told her, and stuck out his bound wrists. “Ow!”
“I’m sorry, Nick.” The first stab almost put a hole in his artery, but he stoically stood still while she got the hang of it, and after she’d pierced the tape enough that he thought he could work the rest of it loose, he told her to climb up on the toilet seat, then he boosted her up until she could get her upper body into the space.
“You okay?” he whispered.
“Uh-huh.”
“And remember, don’t go too far. I don’t want the whole city of Rose Hill out canvassing these woods looking for you, Kendy.”
“Bye.” And with that, she dropped out of sight.
A half mile before reaching the hunting lodge, Cam cut the lights on the SUV, then a quarter of a mile later, he stopped and told his passengers to stay put. “I’ll try to get close enough to see if there’s anybody inside.”
“And then what?” Rachel asked.
“I’m not sure,” Cam said honestly. “I don’t know what the place looks like, how it’s situated, how many there are, or even if anybody’s in it at all. There may be a perfectly innocent reason somebody was out here tonight.”
“And they just decided to leave like they were being chased by the hounds of hell?” Rachel chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t think so.”
Jason pulled on his baseball cap. “I know what the place looks like, inside and out. I know where Coach parks his Jeep when he’s out here, Cam. Besides, you may need help.”
Rachel looked concerned. “I don’t think—”
“Jason,” Cam interrupted her. With his hand on the handle ready to climb out, he spoke quietly and firmly. “You’ve been drinking. You have to stay here.”
“I haven’t,” Ward said, “so I can go with you.”
“And have Jimbo kick my ass, too?” Cam cracked the door slightly. “I don’t think so.”
“Exactly,” Rachel said in a severe tone.
“Nick’s my best friend,” Ward pleaded. “I owe him. If I was in trouble, no way would he sit in the car and let somebody else do all the work.”
“We’re wasting time,” Cam said abruptly. “Everyone’s staying put while I check the area. This isn’t a ball game. And when I get out, no talking. Voices carry in the woods, especially on a still night.”
“Take the shotgun,” Jason said.
“I plan to.” Mouth set, Cam quietly climbed down out of the SUV, reached behind the seat for the shotgun and slipped extra shells in his pocket as Jason handed them over. He took a minute while the light was on to check what kind of weapon he held.
“It’s a Remington twelve-gauge,” Jason told him.
“Please be careful, Cam,” Rachel said.
“Yeah.” Cam then closed the car door softly, tapped the roof of the vehicle twice, then slipped into the dark woods and disappeared from sight instantly.
For about three minutes, the car was silent as a tomb. Rachel wanted nothing more than to leave the boys and go with Cam, but it was simply too risky. She glanced back at Jason and Ward just in time to see a look—something—pass between them, and as if they’d planned it, both quickly opened the doors on their respective sides and were out of the SUV before she had a chance to stop them.
She swore silently and did the same.
She caught up with them about twenty feet from the SUV. “If I gave you two a direct order to return to the car, you wouldn’t hear it, would you?”
“No, ma’am,” Jason said in a whisper. “And we can’t talk anymore or Cam might hear us. He just might do something like quit the plan, so no talking.”
“Also,” Ward said, “I don’t want to be mistaken for a bear.”
Nick figured he’d been locked in the bathroom about twenty minutes, ten of which he’d spent freeing up Kendy to get away. Another couple to finish tearing the tape off his hands. Sounds inside the cabin had ceased a while ago and he wondered what Tyson was doing. If he was outside checking whether or not Ziggy and Jay had really cut out on him, Nick hoped Kendy would stay out of sight.
Standing on the toilet tank, he peered out. He frowned, stared harder, thinking he saw movement in the clearing. And too big to be Kendy. He was ready to make some signal when he hea
rd Tyson come back into the room.
Almost sick with disappointment, he quickly dropped back, stepped off the toilet and was propped against the wall when Tyson jerked it open. He stood with his belt in his hands, letting it slither across his palms slowly.
“Take off your clothes.”
It took Nick a moment to react. Not a lot of romance to this creep’s technique, he thought. He was still in his baseball uniform and he wondered if that was a turn-on, too. Nick knew girls thought guys in military uniform were really sexy. He supposed if your taste ran along the lines of Monk Tyson’s, maybe the same stuff kicked in with a baseball uniform. Go figure.
“I guess we’re finished talking,” he said, stepping from the dark bathroom into the full light in the cabin. It was then that Tyson realized Kendy had escaped.
“Where’s the brat?” But no reply was necessary. In one glance, Tyson took in the jimmied window and Nick’s free hands. He let fly a string of profanity that was truly impressive. Nick, seizing the moment, dashed for the door, praying Tyson had failed to lock it when he came back in.
No such luck. Without any rules now to keep him in check, Tyson was like a volcano erupting. He caught Nick from behind, ripping his shirt and locking his arm across his windpipe. Nick, struggling wildly to breathe, thought he was going to die. His vision was fading and he felt himself beginning to go…
Tyson suddenly turned him loose and tossed him on the bed. Then, using his belt, he made a slipknot around the steel headboard and wrapped both Nick’s wrists, then pulled the slack out of it and gave it a jerk. Now his hands were trussed together again and bound to the bedframe. If this was some kind of sex game, Nick didn’t see how it could be any fun, no matter what turned you on.
It surprised Nick then that what he felt most was rage. Tyson wanted to play his victims like fish on a line and it was sick. He probably got half his perverted kicks knowing they were scared out of their minds and couldn’t do a thing to escape. Nick vowed not to show he was scared, although he definitely was in spite of the fact that help might be on its way.