by Becky McGraw
"If you find her, call me."
"I will. And Rocky?"
"Yeah?" she asked impatiently.
"You do the same, and be careful."
Wes disconnected, then sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. He sent up a prayer that Leigh Ann hadn't been in an accident, but what else could explain why she hadn't made it to the ranch?
Unless, she had been so upset when she left here she just kept going back toward Dallas. His heart squirmed in his chest, but he stilled it. If she had, Wes would go there to tell her what he had to say.
But she had been in the R & R truck, not her convertible. Her car was still at the ranch or in the shop, he imagined because she didn't have the money to fix it. No way would she have taken off in the truck, without at least calling her sister.
Someone needed to start checking the local hospitals, so he called Rocky back and asked her to have someone do that before she left the ranch. Wes threw on his clothes, then ran from his bedroom to Trey's and dragged him out of bed.
"C'mon kiddo, wake up, you can sleep in the truck."
"What's wrong, daddy?" he asked and rubbed his eyes, squinting in the bright overhead light that Wes had turned on when he entered the room.
"I need to go find Miss Leigh Ann," Wes said. He wasn't going to explain further, because he didn't want to worry his son. Right now, Wes was worried enough for both of them, overwhelmed by it, paralyzed by the thoughts that kept running through his mind. Leigh Ann hurt and bleeding somewhere, or kidnapped, carjacked, or...dead.
Wes swallowed down the bile that shot up to his throat. "Hurry, Trey."
"Is Miss Leigh Ann okay?" Trey asked as he stepped into his jeans and fumbled with the snap.
"Yeah, she's fine, I just need to talk to her." Wes hoped she was fine, and that he did have the option of talking to her. He had so much to say.
***
Leigh Ann opened one eye, because that was all she could manage her head hurt so badly. Bright sunlight knifed through her skull like a laser beam, so she squeezed the eye closed again and groaned. Various aches and pains in her sore body brought Leigh Ann to the conclusion that she was alive, but death might be welcome, because there were so many of them. Pain shot through her head again, and she tried to raise a hand to massage her temple. Her eyes flew open then downward to her bound wrists. Duct tape. No wonder her hands were numb. Leigh Ann tried to pull them apart, but the tape was tightly wound.
Heart pounding she looked around and got her wits about her. She was laying across the backseat of a moving vehicle. A truck. The swaying motion, and rough suspension intensified the nausea she was feeling.
Trying to put the pieces of her situation together, Leigh Ann realized that her hands being bound meant her captor hadn't just found her on the side of the road and decided to take her to the hospital. This guy didn't have good intentions, that was a sure thing.
Her eyes flew to the back brim of the driver's cowboy hat. Afraid to alert him that she was awake, Leigh Ann snapped her eyes shut again to think. The guy was alone in the front seat, with no passenger. That meant she only had one person to contend with. Good news, but with her hands tied, not such good news at all. Even with her hands free, the guy was a lot bigger than she was. His broad, muscular shoulders showed well above the front seat. Leigh Ann wasn't a fighter anyway, but she could run pretty damned fast when she had to. If he freed her hands, that is exactly what she would do.
The cell phone in her pocket vibrated, and Leigh Ann held her breath, hoping the guy wouldn't hear it, because silent mode wasn't totally silent. There was a low-pitched hum that went along with the vibration. Her eyes flew to the mirror, and she watched nervously, as it continued to vibrate in her pocket. When it stopped and he hadn't looked back there, she relaxed a little. Knowing that she at least had some way of communicating if she got the opportunity, she slowly let out the breath in her lungs.
What the hell could this guy want from her?
Rape was the first thing that came to mind. Mortification gripped her, then faded. If that was his intention, surely he would have stopped and done it already, even if she was unconscious. It had been near midnight when he hit her truck and she crashed. The sun was up now, so she must've been out quite a while. Leigh Ann crinkled her forehead in thought sending another pain shooting through her head. Her skin crackled like it was coated in dried blood, and she flinched. After a few more minutes of thought, Leigh Ann decided the only way she was going to find out her captor's purpose was to ask him.
She tried to swallow, moved her tongue around in her mouth to work up some saliva, then asked, "Where are you taking me?" Her words rasped in and out of her dry vocal chords. The man titled the mirror down and looked into it. Their eyes met, his eyebrows slammed down over his angry amber eyes.
Leigh Ann sucked in a breath, her heart tripping in her chest. "You?" she whispered in confusion.
"You messed with the wrong man, lady," Trace Rooks told her darkly, his jaw clenched making the scar on his cheek whiten. He dragged his hot gaze from hers back to the road, and she saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel.
Who was he talking about? Lester Fallon? Red Jones? Wes? or Senator Rooks? Fear shot through her as she realized Trace must be related to him somehow.
"What did I do to you?" she asked, her voice an octave higher than normal, her mind flitting over the events in her brief association with the ruggedly handsome cowboy.
"You didn't do a damned thing to me, but you fucked with someone you should have left alone. Even I know to leave my father alone. You not only messed with his wife, you screwed up his business. Don't you have any sense at all?"
The pieces of the puzzle she'd tried to put together the night Wes took her to the hospital fell into place, and a knot formed in her stomach. Rooks...Rooks...oh, Lord. "Allison is your mother?" Leigh Ann squeaked.
"Yes, Mrs. Leland Rooks is my mother," he said with disgust. "Or used to be..."
Leigh Ann snorted. "She still is your mother, always will be. That is something that you have for life, no matter how much you'd like to change it. Trust me, I know."
"Well, my mama filed for divorce yesterday, you nosed around out at the Diamond Bar and the ranch manager freaked out, so now Leland is freaked too."
"So he had you kidnap me?" she asked, amazed that the tough, seemingly independent man who had rescued her when her car broke down was his father's minion.
Trace threw back his head and laughed, swerving on the road a little, before he steadied the truck. "That's the funniest damned thing I've ever heard."
"Well, it's not so unbelievable. I'm in the back of your truck and I'm tied up. That usually means I've been kidnapped. Since your father is the one mad at me, and you're the one doing his dirty work, I guess that means you're my kidnapper."
"Not likely, lady," he told her with a snort, his jaw tightening even more.
Leigh Ann shut up, because she figured that was the best thing she could do. It was obvious to her he was extremely angry, and probably done talking. And that was too damned bad, because she still couldn't figure out why she was tied up in the back of Trace Rooks truck, or where the hell he was taking her.
Wes stood on the shoulder of the road, and shoved a hand through his hair as he made yet another call. His eyes fixed on the mangled mess that had been the R & R Ranch truck Leigh Ann had been driving. The twisted heap of metal told him, most likely she was in bad shape. But she wasn't in the truck, and she wasn't in the hospital according to Terri Rhodes. So where the hell was she?
Lost in the woods, because she was hurt and disoriented? Had someone picked her up after the accident? If they had, why the hell wasn't she at the hospital? Where was she?
After a cursory foot search of the surrounding area, the officers on the scene said they found nothing. No pieces of clothing, shoes or blood. He was thankful about them not finding blood, because there had been some inside the truck. On the steering wheel. Which meant Leigh Ann pro
bably hit her head, or broke her nose, or needed stitches somewhere on her beautiful body. The sickening thought sent added fear to mix with the healthy dose already in his bloodstream.
Wes had activated his equine search and rescue team, but he was in no shape to take charge of that right now. He didn't have a choice though. It was his team, his men, and women and he needed their help to find her. They had to find her, she might be bleeding to death somewhere. He had commitments from three people who said they were on the way, one of them was Roxanne. The others were getting their stuff together, but told him it would be at least two hours before they arrived. The Texas Rangers were sending their canine search team too, but again, that was going to take hours to get started too.
If Leigh Ann was in these thick woods injured and dehydrated, she could die by the time they found her. If she isn't already dead, his mind interjected and he forcefully shoved that back where it belonged. They would find her alive. Wes had to believe that, or he wouldn't be able to focus on what he needed to do.
After the third unanswered ring, Wes stuffed his phone back in his pocket, and headed for his truck. He'd make calls on the way, but he couldn't wait for everyone else, he needed to start searching for her now. Once he got back with his horse and gear, he was sure Rocky would be here, and they could head out to search, leaving instructions for the rest of the team.
He and Rocky were the most qualified riders on the team, but the last two people who should pair up on the search. They were both personally vested in the outcome, and had the most to lose. That wasn't the ideal way to do things, not their normal protocol, but that was how he was going to do it. Because he wasn't waiting, and he damned sure wasn't sitting on the sidelines for this search. Someone else could be base commander.
A slow-moving emergency vehicle blocked the road as it moseyed on by the crash scene, the occupant rubbernecking and gawking, but not stopping to offer help. Frustration poured through him, as he waited for it to pass. When the guy finally cleared the road Wes ran across the road to his truck. Guiding his truck onto the pavement, Wes put his foot down on the accelerator.
He was thankful his mother had picked up his distraught son a few minutes ago, because comforting him, while trying to search would be impossible. He told his mom to keep Trey home from school today, feed him ice cream and cookies, whatever it took to calm him down. Ice cream and cookies weren't going to do the trick though, Wes knew that. The only thing that would help is if he found Leigh Ann. It was the only thing that would help him too. Like his son, he loved the woman they were looking for, and was worried sick about her.
Wes was going to find her if it was the last thing he ever did.
Thirty minutes later, Leigh Ann couldn't wait any longer. "I have to use the bathroom," she said squirming on the seat where she lay. "And my hands are numb. Can you loosen the tape a little?" If he did, she could probably wiggle out of it. She had been trying, but it hadn't budged a millimeter. Instead the skin at her wrists was nearly bleeding from being rubbed raw by the rough edges of the tape.
A deep sigh preceded Trace Rook's answer. "We need to keep moving. I'll stop in a little while to pass you off. You can use the bathroom then."
"P-pa-pass me off?" Leigh Ann stuttered as a knot of fear choked her, and she clamped her knees together.
"Yeah, we're meeting the feds at a rest stop about ten miles ahead."
"The feds?" This was getting stranger by the minute.
"I can't explain, all I can say is you really know how to cause trouble, lady. If I get out of this alive, it will be a fucking miracle. You're damned lucky to still be alive yourself."
Still be alive? More fear followed and settled in the pit of her stomach. "Are you going to k-kill me?"
"Why the hell would I go to all this trouble to save you, if I planned to kill you?" he asked sarcastically. "But you seem damned determined to do yourself in. What the hell were you thinking coming out to the ranch and threatening Roy Brown?"
"I was collecting money they owe Wes for vet services." If this was the result of her collection activities, it was no wonder Wes had ordered her never to do it again.
"He send you out there?" Trace shot back angrily glancing at her in the mirror.
"Um, no..." she admitted. "He didn't know I was going out there."
"That was stupid--hairbrained," he told her with a snort. "You nosing around out there made the bosses think you were looking for more than a little money. They told me to kill you, and if I don't convince them I did, I'm dead."
He said he wasn't going to kill her, but someone was trying to do it, and she wanted to at least know who that was. "Who are the bosses?" she squeaked and sat up, then wished she hadn't when her head swam sickeningly. Quickly, Leigh Ann laid back on the seat and closed her eyes. "Please tell me what's going on," she begged softly.
"You stepped on a hornet's nest, princess, and we are about to get stung in the ass."
"Oh, that tells me everything I need to know," she spat, totally fed up with his evasion. If she was on some kind of hit list, she at least wanted to know who was going to, um...hit her.
"Suffice it to say that The Diamond Bar is owned by a group of men you have pissed off royally, Miss America."
"I was crowned Miss Texas USA," she corrected automatically and felt her face heat.
"Whatever you were crowned, you're a royal pain in my ass for sure," Trace told her gruffly, but the side of his firm lips cocked up in a half-grin, or it could have been a grimace.
Silence was her best friend. One thing was sure, she didn't want to make her captor any madder than he already was. If she kept talking that is exactly what was going to happen. He said he was saving her, so she had no choice but to trust that is what he was doing. Leigh Ann was hog-tied in the back of his pickup truck without many options to save herself.
A few minutes later, the truck weaved to the right, and Leigh Ann sat up to see if she could tell where they were. Sure enough, they were pulling into a rest stop lined with eighteen-wheelers near the front entrance. Cars dotted the spaces nearest the tan brick building behind the trucks. Trace pulled into a spot next to a black van and shut off the engine. Without a word, he got out of the truck and headed to the bathroom, leaving her sitting there, knowing that she had to go too. What a jerk!
Something moved to her right and Leigh Ann's head jerked that way. A dark-haired man in equally dark sunglasses shaded his eyes with his hand to peer inside the window. He stepped back then the back door of the truck was flung open. Without a word, the man reached inside to grab her ankles and drag her toward him. A scream strangled her, and Leigh Ann pulled against the tape, but it held tight. Her legs weren't bound like her wrists though, so she kicked at him with the leg he wasn't pulling.
Her boot clipped the man under his chin and he grunted as his head jerked back. He let go of her ankle and she scrambled across the seat. Leigh Ann fumbled with the door handle then yanked when she finally got it in her grasp. The door flew open, but instead of going out feet first like she planned, she was thrown over another man's shoulder and held tight.
"If you scream, I'm going to spank your ass," Trace growled as he stomped around the truck toward the van. Leigh Ann had no doubt that is exactly what he would do too, so she went limp and didn't let go of the scream that had finally worked loose in her throat.
She heard a sliding door open, before she was tossed onto a hard seat on her back. She bounced a couple of times, then scrambled away to sit up.
"I'm not a sack of potatoes," she told him indignantly throwing her shoulders against the back of the seat to glare at him. "And I'm injured."
Trace stuck his head inside the van. His dark eyes were concerned as he scanned her from head to toe. "You have a cut on your forehead. Anything else hurt?"
"My head hurts, and I feel a little queasy," she admitted. "I think I'm fine though.
"I think you're going to have a black eye, princess," he informed her and leaned forward to rub the spot under her l
eft eye with his thumb.
"That didn't come from the accident," she told him with a huff.
"Don't worry, it'll just make your eyes look bluer," he said with a chuckle. "If you need to go to the hospital though, these guys will take you."
Trace leaned forward and kissed her temple. His deep voice rumbled over her skin as he said, "Take care, Miss Texas," before he backed away and pointed a finger at her. "And stay out of trouble."
The van door slid shut and she was in total darkness, because there were no windows in this van. Leigh Ann wondered who he was turning her over to. She didn't know the man who had tried to pull her out of the truck, so she didn't trust him. What if Trace was turning her over to someone else to do his dirty work?
Why would I go to all this trouble to save you, if I was going to kill you?
No, this guy wasn't going to kill her either, if that was the case. She had to trust Trace knew the man, and knew he wouldn't hurt her. The van door slid open again and Leigh Ann squinted against the bright light backlighting the tall dark haired man that was her new captor. "Do you need to go to the hospital, Miss Baker?" he asked evenly.
"No, thank you. I just need to use the bathroom really bad. And this tape is cutting off my circulation."
He reached inside his dark suit jacket, and pulled out a folded pocket knife, then extended the long blade. She held back a squeak when he reached inside to grab her wrists, and put the wicked looking blade against her skin. He didn't cut her, he just sliced through the tape and blood rushed to her fingers painfully.
"Thank you," she said weakly, as she pulled the tape off of her skin.
"I can't let you go to the bathroom here, too many people, but I'll stop soon."
Rubbing her tender wrists, she nodded and he stepped back then slid the door closed again. Leigh Ann felt like she was in a hot metal box, because she couldn't even see the front seat. It was closed off by a metal barrier, so she didn't know who was up front, or where they were going. All she could do was trust that Trace Rooks wasn't sending her off like a lamb to the slaughter.