He took a step toward her, then gathered her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m upset.”
She snaked her arms around his waist and squeezed. He seemed genuinely upset. She has to admit, it surprised her. She’d thought a man like him would be hardened to the fate of animals. Then again, he’d surprised her several times in the little time they’d spent together.
“Come on,” she urged. Let’s go back to the house, get out of this rain.”
He released her and twined his fingers with hers. “Right. I need to call the Sheriff.”
They walked along the fence and soon reached the driveway. The front of the house was illuminated with uplighting placed strategically behind shrubs and dwarf trees. As they got closer, the outline of the door became visible, spilling light from inside the home.
Aidan glanced around. “That’s odd.”
Gina said, “Maybe Charlotte heard something and came out to check.”
Aidan dropped her hand and took the porch steps two at a time. He ducked his head inside. Suddenly, Gina felt her stomach clench.
Toby.
Oh, God, she’d been so focused on Aidan—
She raced up the steps and through the open door. She heard Aidan’s boots pound down the hallway as he shouted for Charlotte and Toby. She looked at the television, which was nothing but blackness. The DVD case sat on the floor, open and empty. The cushion Toby had laid on was rumpled, still indented from his weight.
She spun around and yelled, “Toby!”
No answer.
Panic curled around her heart and squeezed as she fought to keep control of her emotions. She wouldn’t do him any good running around like a chicken with her head cut off. The kitchen. Maybe he went to get something to eat or drink. She ran to the kitchen, her wet shoes slapping against the wooden floor, then flipped the light on. Empty.
Think. She had to think.
She flew out the back door to the patio, shouting his name. Her little boy. He was alone. He was scared. He was in unfamiliar territory. Where would he go? Looking for her, most likely.
Aidan appeared in the doorway and stepped out. “Did you find him?”
“No!” Gina’s voice wavered. Sanity was hanging by a thread.
“The boy is missing?” Charlotte appeared in the doorway, pulling her bathrobe belt tight. “I’ll stay here and search the house. The two of you look outside.” She waved them away.
Gina nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. Right. Maybe he was playing hide and seek. Could it be that simple? Oh, please, please let it be, she pleaded with any power that might be listening. She spun around, unsure which direction to go.
Suddenly the area jumped to life and Aidan appeared from beside the house. He’d flipped on lights, which lit up the patio area, but created sharp, disorienting shadows. Lots of places for a little boy to hide.
He strode to her and placed a large black flashlight in her hand. “I’m going to go look by the lake. Maybe he followed us down there.”
She gulped and swiped the rain from eyes, hoping her son hadn’t followed them. If he saw them kissing — or doing other things — what would he think? Embarrassment burned her cheeks. Why hadn’t she stopped Aidan? Would Toby be angry?
Maybe that’s why he ran. The thought horrified her. She shook her head. No. He liked Aidan. He wouldn’t have run. He might’ve been confused, scared even, by what he saw. But it was dark. He couldn’t have seen much. She shook the worry away. There was no time for that - she had to find her son.
Maybe he took cover when the rain hit.
Her eyes widened as it hit her. The calf! She flipped her own flashlight on and skidded around the side of the house and toward the barn. Aidan pounded behind her, the beam from his flashlight bobbing along in front of them just like hers. The big sliding door was open a bit, a slash of black against the red siding. Hope buoyed her along.
She was right! He was out here, she knew it. She hurried down the aisle and slid to a stop in front of the calf’s stall. She jerked the door open and swept the light through the stall. The calf bawled angrily as she jumped to her feet, eyes wide with fear.
No Toby.
Gina dropped to her knees, water dripping from her rain-slicked hair.
Aidan squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kidnapping
Rondo jumped into the truck, threw the transmission in drive, then stomped on the gas. He kept right on Lana’s tail as she pushed the semi hard. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a man in a cowboy hat standing on the edge of the road. Thank goodness they had a head start. Even if that guy went back to get a vehicle to chase them, they’d be long gone. Rondo grabbed his cell phone off the seat and punched in Lana’s number.
As soon as she answered, he said, “Somebody saw us.”
She scoffed. “All anybody could’ve seen was a couple of trucks. No way they could’a seen more than that.”
Lana was reckless, and he had to put a stop to her insolence. “They saw a semi and a pickup.” He gritted his teeth. He’d deal with her back at the compound.
Her voice was muffled for a moment, then she was back. “OK, instead of going all the way to a safe sale barn, let’s go to Brackston’s place.”
Rondo’s nostrils flared as he blew out a deep breath. “You sure it’s safe? We’ve been using it a lot lately.”
She snapped, “Of course it is.”
Because her little pet Steve said it was. “They’re pretty rough with the animals there.” Memories of what he’d seen the last time they dropped off a load of cattle at Brackston made his stomach turn, and he wasn’t easily sickened.
She snorted. “Follow me.”
Rondo dropped his phone in the passenger seat and fumed. It was dangerous to work this part of Missouri anyway, with Lana’s nephew working at the Diamond J. He shook his head. That’s why she suggested they hit the ranch tonight. Lana convinced him it was a way to throw the authorities off the scent. He’d gone along with it.
Everything Lana wanted, Lana got. It had been that way since him and her hooked up. She knew how to work him. The woman was flexible as hell and up for anything when it came to sex. He ran the family, and enjoyed having a woman at his side.
But she was forgetting her place.
Raindrops splattered against the windshield, blurring the road. He flipped the wipers on and listened to the rhythmic squeak as he followed Lana and Steve. Might as well settle in. Brackston was a good two hours away.
By the time they reached the turnoff for the Brackston Meat Company, his eyes were gritty and dry. Lana slowed the rig as they drove down the narrow blacktop. The trees nearly touched overhead. Lightning streaked across the sky every few minutes, throwing shadows across the road.
The glow from the huge processing plant was visible long before the buildings were. That place was lit up like broad daylight 24 hours a day.
Lana pulled into the graveled lot and the semi shuddered to a stop. Rondo alongside her and put the transmission in park, but left the engine running. Normally, he’d turn the truck off to save gas, but the BMC gave him the willies. If anything went sideways, he planned to throw gravel and lay rubber.
He watched through the rivulets of water on the window as the passenger door of the semi opened and Steve dropped to the ground. The little weasel lifted his jacket over his head, glanced around the lot, then strolled into the building through a side door as if he owned the place.
That guy came out of nowhere, and ingratiated himself with Lana in no time at all. He seemed to know a lot of people, and Lana trusted him.
Didn’t mean he had to, though, Rondo thought.
The big garage door of the building yawned open, then Steve stepped out and motioned to Lana. The semi rolled forward, swallowed by the building, then the door closed. They were in.
Rondo looked down at his watch. The whole herd would be unloaded in a matter of minutes. Open the gates and down they come, one
by one. Three sections in the trailer. Five minutes max per section to unload. Fifteen minutes.
Steve and Lana’d bullshit with the guys inside. Then they’d close up the gates, roll up the door on the other side and Lana’d pull out. She should drive around the side of the building and be ready to head out in half an hour, tops. He slid down in the driver’s seat and let his head fall back against the ripped vinyl of the headrest.
If Steve was such a great guy, why’d he drive a piece of shit like this? The old Ford had nearly 200,000 miles on it, the seats were worn and the transmission made a funny sound when it shifted sometimes. Rondo wasn’t sure how he’d ended up driving the little prick’s truck while Steve rode in the semi with Lana. It just ended up that way, somehow, when they had to take off quick.
A lightning bolt shot out of the sky, straight into the trees. Thunder shook the ground almost immediately. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine. That was close.
A mewling, sniffling sound caught his attention. He sat bolt upright, every sense on alert. His eyes swept over the parking lot. No sign of the cattle hauler yet. A quick glance at his watch told him it had been twenty minutes since Lana drove into the building.
Another muffled sound. It came from the back seat. He pushed himself up and peeked over the seat. The blanket in the back seat shifted slightly. He swung his door open, slid out and tugged the back door open. He grabbed the blanket and yanked, exposing a small boy with wide, frightened eyes set in a round face. His chubby cheeks were covered with bright red splotches, streaked with dried tears.
“I want my daddy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Rondo
The grinding of gears and low growl of the cattle hauler’s engine told Rondo that Lana was rounding the corner of the building. He held his hand over his eyes to block the rain. She rolled across the lot and he waved a hand to flag her down. The semi jerked to a stop and she leaned her head out the window. “What’s going on?”
Rondo jerked his thumb to indicate the back seat. “We got a problem.”
Just then, the boy scrambled across the seat and dropped to the ground. Rondo hooked the kid’s arm with a beefy hand and held on tight. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Lana closed her eyes and cursed.
Rondo lifted the boy up and tossed him into the back seat, then threw the blanket over the kid. He looked over his shoulder at Lana. “We can’t leave him here. We can’t take him home.”
Steve leaned across Lana and asked, “Who is he?”
Rondo’s brow furrowed. “How the hell should I know?”
Lana said, “It must have been at the Diamond J. That’s the only place we’ve stopped since we left the compound.”
A blue pickup truck turned into the lot and pulled up to the front door. The driver stared at them when he got out, then spun and pushed through the side door. The kid started to yell, but Rondo smothered the sound with the blanket. He said, “We’re drawing attention out here. What do you want to do?”
“Shit,” Lana cursed again. “Let’s pull the trucks over to the edge of the lot and take him inside. It’s loud in there. I need time to think. To figure this out.”
Rondo shoved the boy back roughly then slammed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. He threw the transmission in drive and followed Lana to the shadowy edge of the lot, where the big dusk to dawn lights didn’t reach.
After he stopped, he reached in the back, wrapped the blanket around the boy, then threw the bundle over his shoulder like a sack of feed. The kid kicked and struggled and tried to yell, but the blanket muffled the sound.
Steve and Lana fell in step beside him. Steve eyed the blanketed kid and whispered, “Dump him off in the office and leave.” He reached out to pull the edge of the blanket back.
Rondo spun away and snorted. “Not a chance. The kid saw my face.” Easy for that know-it-all prick to say. He didn’t have anything at risk.
Steve pulled his ball cap lower over his eyes and shrugged.
“Enough.” Lana made a cutting motion with her hand. Her gaze settled on a black extended cab Ford, a King Ranch edition. Her eyes narrowed. “We don’t know how much he’s seen and heard, and we aren’t taking no chances.”
They reached the side door and Steve tugged it open. Rondo followed Lana inside, and Steve took up the rear. The three of them shook off the rain. The bright glare of the interior lights made Rondo blink. His eyes were already tired and gritty. The kid struggled in the blanket, his feet kicking frantically. Smart kid. He knew he was in trouble.
They stood in a staging area, with a row of lockers against one wall. Keys hung from carefully labeled hooks just inside the door, and a scarred desk squatted in the center of the room, covered with an array of papers and forms, broken pens and stubby pencils.
A faded green door led to the deeper reaches of the processing plant. It pushed open and a tall skinny kid, maybe twenty tops, strode through.
He froze and his close-set eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
The boy chose that moment to wiggle and kick, then a muffled cry sounded. Rondo shifted the boy and squeezed him tighter. He stopped fighting, but continued to sob.
The tall skinny kid focused on the blanket. “What’s going on here?” he demanded. His hand shifted to the bulge on his hip.
Lana stepped forward, between Rondo and the nervous kid. “You know who I am, right.” She reached out and tapped his chest where the name Matt was embroidered on a patch.
Matt’s eyes slid to her, then back to the quivering blanket. He nodded once, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“We need a quiet place to …” Her voice trailed off and she hooked a thumb over her shoulder at Rondo. “Him and me need to talk to Brennan.”
The kid’s chest rose and fell as he sucked in a breath. “Don’t think he’s here.”
“Oh, he’s here. I saw his truck outside.” Lana jerked her chin to the side.
Finally, the kid shrugged and turned, disappearing through the green door.
Rondo shifted the bundle on his shoulder. The boy didn’t weigh much, but he wouldn’t stop wiggling. What were they going to do with a rug rat? He knew what Lana likely wanted to do, but he needed to lay down the law. Lana was cold as ice when it came to protecting their little band of thieves, but they’d never crossed into cold blooded murder and he wasn’t about to start now.
A short, stubby man with a balding head pushed through the green door. He was only slightly taller than Lana, but twice as wide. He wore a button up shirt, with the top button undone to expose a triangle of tangled gray chest hair. A thick gold chain sparkled at his throat. The broken capillaries covering his bulbous nose hinted at a life of heavy drinking. Right now, though, he was stone cold sober and the flush of his cheeks indicated anger, not drink.
He glared at Steve, then Lana, and finally, his gaze settled on Rondo. His beady eyes narrowed. “What — or who? — is in that blanket?”
Lana stepped forward and put a hand flat on the stubby man’s chest. “Brennan, we’ve known each other a long time. The less you know, the better. But we need someplace quiet and safe until we can figure out our next move.”
Brennan’s eyes flicked to the woman in front of him. “There’s a storage room in the basement. You can use it.”
He spun away, opened the green door and shouted, “Matt!”
The tall skinny kid appeared almost immediately. “Yeah, boss?” His eyes darted around the room, then lit on Brennan.
The stubby man waved a hand at Rondo and the other two. “Take them to the back corner storage room and make sure everybody knows that room is off limits to everyone until further notice.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and watched as the three marched out of the room. Rondo glanced back at the man.
He’d never liked Brennan. The man had a cruel streak in him a mile wide, and Rondo didn’t trust him as far as he could throw ‘im. He swung the kid to his other shoulder. They walked through a
maze of hallways. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The cinder block walls were plain, utilitarian, punctuated by cheap core doors. Cattle mooed and bellowed from other parts of the building.
Matt opened a door and motioned for them to follow him. Lana went first, followed by Steve. Rondo went last and walked carefully down the steps behind Lana and Steve, gripping the cold metal handrail and placing his feet carefully on each tread.
They went down two flights of narrow stairs. At the bottom, the stairwell opened into a wide hallway with a low ceiling, punctuated with dangling bare bulbs every twenty feet or so. The only sound was the echo of their boots on the worn linoleum tile. Rondo followed the others and occasionally glanced over his shoulder. This place gave him the creeps.
The skinny kid stopped in front of a heavy metal door with a small window inset in it. He tugged a ring of keys from his pocket and tried several before the door swung open with a low creak. He swept his hand to indicate they should go on in. Rondo followed Lana and Steve, squeezing to get past the skinny kid.
The room was low and dark, lined with cartons and crates. Rondo had to duck to keep from hitting his head on the dangling industrial light. He lowered the kid to a pallet, and the brat immediately began kicking and screaming.
“Shut that kid up!” Lana ordered.
Rondo tightened the blanket around the kid, then sat on the edge. The muffled cries finally stopped, and the rug rat quit struggling. Try as he might, Rondo couldn’t think of a good ending to this situation. Once they got back to the compound, he was going to set Lana straight. But first, they had to deal with the situation.
Lana crossed her arms and tapped her chin with her index finger. Her lips pursed and the muscles under her eyes tightened. “First thing we gotta do is get the vehicles out of here, back to the compound. They’re like a flashing neon sign out there in the parking lot. Somebody’s gonna spot ‘em and wonder.”
Rondo nodded. She was right. This place was full of crooks and thieves who wouldn’t hesitate to make a call if they thought there was a reward. Or they might try to get a piece of the action. He glanced down at the slight form in the blanket. Could they hold the kid for ransom? The Diamond J was money. Maybe they’d be willing to pay to get him back.
Diamond in the Rough (Diamond J #2) Page 20