Above the Law (25 page)

Dale did a quick mental calculation and changed her mind. “Change of plans. Stay put and I’ll be right there.” She clicked off the line and stepped hard on the gas. At ninety miles an hour, she was flying by the other vehicles on the road, and she’d already decided if a state trooper lit up near her she was going to fly on by. She might get to Lindsey faster if she had a lights and sirens escort.

Lindsey. Just a few hours ago, she couldn’t wait to be rid of her and now she was racing to her rescue. Who had taken her and why? She had a ton of questions, but the logistics and purpose behind Lindsey’s abduction weren’t at the forefront. If she was being honest, the biggest question was why the news of Lindsey’s abduction sent her reeling. From the moment she’d learned Lindsey had been taken, she knew without a doubt she would do everything in her power to find and protect her, and she also knew the compulsion was more than duty, it was…

She hit the steering wheel with her palm. Dammit. She wasn’t ready to put a name to her feelings. She might never be. The best thing she could do right now was ignore emotion and focus on coming up with a plan before the red dot on her phone stopped moving.

The sign for Lake Dallas came into view, and she roared across three lanes of traffic to make the exit. As she merged onto the service road, she saw Mary and Peyton standing behind Mary’s Jeep at the gas station on the corner. Mary had a large canvas bag labeled ATF on her shoulder.

Dale swerved into the parking lot, stopped directly behind them, and lowered her window. “Get in!”

They’d barely shut the doors before she took off again. She handed her phone to Mary. “Watch that red dot and tell me where it goes. Lindsey Ryan was abducted by at least two armed guys. They shoved her into the back of a dark blue van and that red dot is going to lead us to them.”

“On it,” Mary said. “How did we manage to get tracking on them?”

“I planted a tracker on Lindsey at the event today. I figured it was time she got a taste of her own medicine.” Dale looked back at Peyton. “Don’t start with the lectures about warrants and shit. She and her camera crew were staking out your ranch earlier in the week, and she showed up at Sophia’s this morning. I don’t know what she’s up to, but she obviously wasn’t going to stop, so we had to have a way to keep an eye on her.”

“So you decided to take off after these armed men all on your own?”

Peyton sounded incredulous, but Dale ignored the question. There was only one explanation for her reckless behavior, but talking about it would be a waste of energy. Peyton’s question did remind her about something else though. “Mary, will you call Diego? He’s supposed to have SRT get in contact with me, and I want to keep my phone free if I can. Give him your number and they can get in touch with you.”

Dale listened to the one-sided conversation while Mary described where they were and told Diego that based on the map, they were about fifteen minutes behind the van. What followed next were a few “okays” and “uh-huhs” and she was about to tell Mary how to transmit the information on her phone about Lindsey’s location to the special response team, when Mary exclaimed “two hours?”

“Put the phone on speaker,” Dale said, resisting the urge to grab it out of Mary’s hand. When she heard Diego’s voice, she practically yelled. “Are you saying you can’t get SRT scrambled for two hours?”

“We’ve got a team in cars headed your way now, but the chopper is grounded. We’ve got one on the way from DPD SWAT, but it’s going to take a little time to get it outfitted.”

“Not acceptable.”

“Dale, I’m doing the best I can. Just hang tight. You promised you wouldn’t go in on your own.”

Mary waved her hand and pointed at Dale’s phone. She held it up and Dale saw that the red dot had moved to the right. It was off the highway now, and turning right. Dale whispered, “Find me the exit.” And then louder, “Diego, gotta go. They just turned off the highway.”

Before she hung up, she heard him say again, “Remember, you promised.”

He needn’t have worried. She glanced at Mary and Peyton. She’d keep her promise—she wasn’t going in alone.

*

Nothing she said the entire drive elicited a response, and Lindsey was beginning to wonder if there was a point in continuing to try. As far as she could tell, they’d been driving at a pretty steady clip in a straight line for a long time, but they’d just slowed down and made a right turn. If she had to guess, she’d say they’d been on the highway. Resigned to silence, she was left with just her thoughts.

Elaina was probably having an aneurism right about now. Hopefully, Carolina and Emilio had made it safely back to the crowd at the event and were able to relay what had happened. If not, and Elaina and the rest of her crew were in the dark, Elaina probably thought she’d gotten tired of doing the network’s bidding and had bailed on the interview with Dale.

Which led her to wonder what Dale was thinking. Had she stuck around, ready to answer questions or had she left the event and written this entire episode off to a bad day at the office? She had no doubt Dale resented the intrusion into her life, but she’d been intrigued too. She’d known it for a fact at dinner last night until something caused her to do a one-eighty.

There was a good chance she’d probably never see Dale again even if she survived this episode of her life, but on the off chance she came out of this unscathed, she started a mental bucket list—an exercise she’d always considered a bit silly because if a person wanted to do something, they should just do it and not wait until they were at the end of life to check things off the list. She’d climbed mountains, jumped out of planes, traveled the world, learned new languages, and gotten paid handsomely for the privilege. Other people’s bucket lists would pale in comparison to the things she’d experienced as a matter of course, but she couldn’t help but feel empty because she’d had no one to share her life.

Even with Elaina, all the fulfilling moments she’d had had been alone. They hadn’t shared the same interests, the same passions. They’d simply mistaken the intersection of their careers as a reason to couple up, and they’d been at odds from the start. Elaina had never understood Lindsey’s unwillingness to compromise her work for what the network deemed palatable, and Lindsey would never concede that compromise was a necessary evil.

Of course, she’d compromised when she’d taken this particular assignment. She was only here, in Dallas and in this van, because she’d thrown a bone to the network in exchange for having control over the type of news she wanted to cover. How poetic that her first compromise might be her last.

The van jerked right again, and she braced against the side of the cage to keep from sliding. They were no longer on a paved road, and she felt every bump and bounce of the uneven terrain. She had a feeling they were nearing their destination, wherever that might be. Now was the time to add something new, something meaningful to the bucket list, but her mind was paralyzed with dread at what might happen next, and she couldn’t manage to put words to her dreams.

The van braked to a halt, and she heard the men inside clanking the lock on the cage that held her. Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her forward. She stayed in a crouch until she felt a gust of cool breeze and felt herself lifted in the air.

She had a split second to make a choice. Docile and disarming hadn’t worked so far. She didn’t have a clue where they were or what kind of opposition she was facing, but if she was going to try to escape, right now seemed like the perfect opportunity. She bent her knees, leaned back as far as she could, and swung both feet forward as hard as she could.

She heard a loud grunt before she hit the ground, flat on her back. She rolled away from the noise and struggled to get up, but with her hands still tied tight behind her, she couldn’t get purchase. She heard a deep voice yelling in Spanish asking what happened and another voice answered saying he was taking care of it. Next thing she knew, she was yanked to her feet and marched away.

A few minutes later, she heard the sound of a creaking door. The ground became level and the air smelled like hay. She listened carefully, but didn’t hear any distinct sounds other than the snips of conversation between the men and the sound of their breathing.

They came to a stop and a hand pushed down on her shoulder.

“Sit.”

He didn’t wait for her to comply, instead forcing her into a chair. It was cold and hard. She wondered if they were going to tie her to it. She’d read somewhere that you should try to relax if someone was tying you up—that doing so would put some slack in the bindings. She took a few deep breaths and willed herself to remain calm and loose, but not being able to see only fueled her anxiety.

Escape hadn’t worked, so she was back to plan one: engage the captors. She didn’t have any confidence in the strategy, but she was out of options. “I was telling you the truth before. I’m a reporter for a news show with excellent ratings. Whatever you want, I can help you get it.” She repeated her plea in Spanish and added, “I promise, I’m much more valuable to you alive.”

Their only response was to rip off her blindfold. She shook her head as her eyes adjusted to the light. Both of the men, still wearing ski masks, were standing in front of her, one was pointing a phone at her and the other was looking at a piece of paper. She took advantage of their preoccupation and soaked up as many details as she could about her surroundings.

She was seated on a metal chair at a card table in what appeared to be a barn. The floor was scattered with hay, but for the most part, the building appeared to be clean, and there was no sign of any equipment or animals. She estimated it had taken close to an hour to get here so they weren’t too far from the city, but if this property wasn’t occupied, the likelihood that anyone would come along and find her was remote. Her best strategy was to escape.

One of the men slammed his fist on the table, and she jumped in her chair. He slid the paper in front of her and pointed to the camera. “Read.”

She looked at the man with the phone and back down at the paper before she realized what he wanted her to do. He pulled out a knife and reached behind her to cut the restraints on her wrists. Slowly and cautiously, she brought her sore and swollen hands around in front of her. He jabbed a finger at the paper and repeated his earlier instruction. “Read.”

She picked up the paper and skimmed the words. She’d imagined it would be a ransom note and it was, with a twist. The statement was short and to the point.

My name is Lindsey Ryan, and I am a reporter for
Spotlight America
. This message is for Herschel Gellar. I am being held hostage and will be killed unless you release Arturo Vargas from custody and dismiss all charges against him and his brother, Sergio Vargas. You have twelve hours to comply or I will die. If you try to rescue me, I will die. I will be released as soon as Arturo is out and all charges have been dismissed.

Lindsey read the note three times until the words swam before her eyes, but only two stuck in her memory.
Killed. Die.
Who were they kidding? No one was going to unleash a cold-blooded drug lord in exchange for a reporter, no matter how popular she was. Her captors stood to gain nothing and she would lose everything.

“This isn’t going to work,” she said. “They won’t let him go in exchange for me. I know several high-powered lawyers. Let me contact them. You have a better chance of getting Arturo released and the charges dismissed by using the law against them. Let me help you. I will do everything in my power to secure his release.”

The man standing beside her picked up his gun and pointed it at her head. He took a step back but kept the weapon leveled on her. He waved a hand at the man with the phone and then barked the command at her again. “Read.”

Countless times, she’d stood before a camera and recited the facts, asked tough questions, and offered her opinions. She’d done it so often she rarely used notes anymore, preferring the spontaneity of extemporaneous speech and the realism it added to her stories. But this was different. This wasn’t someone else’s story for her to summarize and massage for the camera. This was her story, and deviating from the script could cost her her life. Suddenly, the mental logjam she’d experienced earlier when she’d been trying to think of things to add to her bucket list broke free, and she knew exactly what she wanted, exactly who she wanted.

Survival was imperative.

Lindsey held the paper with shaking hands and barely looked up as she read the words exactly as they were written on the page.

*

Dale took the exit Mary pointed out. “What next?”

“Turn right at the light up ahead.”

Dale looked at the road signs and then at Mary. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yep, and no need to speculate.” She held up the phone. “They stopped moving and look where the red dot is.”

“Anyone care to clue me in?” Peyton said from the backseat.

“Mary and I were out here recently,” Dale said, a grim feeling setting in as she faced the fact Lindsey’s kidnapping might have been a carefully orchestrated maneuver. “The farm where we found your brother is out this way, and that’s where Lindsey is right now.”

“The property is up for sale, but it’s been on the market for a while so the likelihood of showings is pretty slim. We’d gotten a tip that Sergio was hiding out there, but we didn’t find any sign of him. Maybe the intel was right on the facts and wrong on the timing.”

“Okay, so we need a plan,” Mary said. “I’ve got a couple of high-powered rifles with scopes in my bag. If they’re in the barn, I might be able to get eyes on them from the attic at the house, but that means you two will need to be ready to come at them from the ground. Peyton, you up for this?”

“I’m carrying a pistol, but I don’t have any extra ammo. You have anything else in that bag for me?”

Dale listened to them discuss the plan, content to let them work out the details because she cared about only three things: get in, get Lindsey, and get out.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled off one of the roads that led to the north side of the house. Mary pointed at a grove of trees. “Park over there. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”