Bucking Bronc Lodge 04 - Cowboy Cop (22 page)

Miles slid onto a barstool and motioned to the bartender for two beers. Jordan excused herself to go to the ladies’ room while he spoke with the bartender and a local man sitting beside him.

She spied the woman in red watching Miles. Sensing trouble, she veered by the ladies’ room and decided to confront her.

“Miss?”

The woman started to duck behind the beads, but Jordan caught her arm. “Please, wait. I need to speak with you.”

At close range, she realized the woman was much younger than she originally thought, probably early twenties. Already she looked aged from the hardships of her lifestyle. “What do you want?” the woman asked, trying for bravado. “You and your
policía
friend come here to shut us down, take our jobs.”

“No, that’s not why we’re here.” How had she known Miles was police? “Did someone warn you we were coming?”

The girl shrugged. “I recognize a pig when I see one.”

Jordan softened her grip. “You have it all wrong. That man is a detective but not here in Mexico. And he didn’t come to arrest you or expose this place.”

The wariness in the girl’s eyes dissipated slightly, and Jordan released her hold. “Then why you come?”

“Because of a man named Robert Dugan, a man who has murdered many people and kidnapped Mr. McGregor’s son. Timmy’s only five.” Jordan paused, pleading with her eyes. “He’s in terrible danger and we’re trying to find him. We traced him across the border.”

The young girl shifted and fidgeted with her hands. “You think he come here?”

Jordan glanced around the place. “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. His mother lived in Mexico, and we think she might have been a...working girl.”

The young woman’s eyes widened.

“Her name was CeeCee. Her son is thirty-five so she would be older than you.”

“CeeCee,” the young woman said. “No one name her here.”

Jordan gave her arm a squeeze. “Thank you anyway. If you hear anything about this man—” she removed the printout of Dugan’s face and showed it to her “—please let us know.” She jotted Miles’s cell phone number and name on the handout and gave it to the woman, then ducked into the bathroom.

By the time she finished washing her hands, the woman suddenly appeared in the bathroom. “I show to others,” she said quietly. “One of the girls say she go by Candy. She was here but gone year ago.”

Jordan’s pulse pounded. “Do you know where she went?”

The girl shoved a small piece of paper in her hand, and Jordan realized it was an address. “Left with man who came through. Live with him.”

Jordan thanked her and rushed to tell Miles. He looked grim, but asked the bartender the man’s name.

“Cortez, he mean,” the bartender said. “But he like Candy and say he keep her for himself.”

“I have his address.” Jordan pushed it into Miles’s hand and he motioned toward the door.

“Let’s go.”

Jordan’s stomach churned as she slid into the Jeep, and they drove away from the small town. Soon the buildings gave way to desolate land and patches of poverty-ridden areas that made Jordan sad for the people who lived in the tiny rotting dwellings. They passed a section of concrete houses that had fallen into disrepair and were abandoned, then Miles turned onto a road that seemed to lead nowhere.

A chill enveloped her as the endless emptiness, darkness and barren land swallowed them. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“According to the GPS, yes.” Miles rubbed at his neck where she was sure the tension was knotting his muscles. Her own was cramped and aching from fatigue.

They lapsed into silence, the narrow road winding deeper into the wilderness, but finally Jordan spotted a set of buildings that looked like a compound ahead.

“There,” she said. “That has to be it.”

Miles sped up, both of them surveying the buildings, which at first sight appeared dark and empty.

Despair threatened as she twisted in her seat.

“I don’t see any cars or lights.”

“Dugan could have hidden the car inside the compound.”

“You think he knows we’ve followed him here?”

Miles shrugged. “I think he’s delusional and paranoid and knows he’s a wanted man. He’ll do whatever he can to hide himself.”

Jordan clung to hope as he slowed the Jeep and pulled up to the compound. The metal gate was open, and as he slowed, she saw no cars inside the premises. No sign of movement or life.

Night shadows hugged the tattered walls, but the headlights from Miles’s Jeep fell on peeling paint, overgrown weeds and a sign saying Casa Laredo that hung askew, blowing in the wind, all confirming that no one lived here year-round.

Apprehension knotted her insides as Miles cut the lights and pulled to a stop. He grabbed a flashlight and his gun, then opened the car door and stepped outside.

* * *

M
ILES INCHED FORWARD
, his senses alert. “Jordan, wait in the car.”

She glanced around at the desolate area with a grimace. “No way. I’ll feel safer with you.”

He sighed. “All right, but stay behind me.”

“Yes, sir.”

He cut her a sharp look at her sarcastic tone, then realized she was simply tired and worried the same as him. Worse, she had been physically assaulted, a bullet had skimmed her arm, and yet, she’d rallied, fought for his son and been a rock for him.

She was the most courageous woman he’d ever met.

He didn’t know how to thank her.

But he didn’t have time to think about it now. He scanned the flashlight along the ground and spotted fresh footprints in the dirt.

His heart hammered. “Someone was here.”

“You’re right.” Rocks skittered below Jordan’s boots as she followed him. “There’s more over there.”

She pointed to the side entrance, and he followed the trail. A man’s prints. No child’s.

A hollow emptiness tore at him. Dugan could have been carrying Timmy.

No. He refused to let the images and possibilities in his mind.

Instead, he turned the knob on the ramshackle wooden door and it squeaked open. Sweat beaded on his neck and trickled downward as he shined the flashlight inside and followed the dirt tracks. The concrete floor was worn and showed signs that an animal had been inside through a mudroom, then a small hallway leading to a den and kitchen combination. The furniture left behind had been chewed and picked by birds and God knew what else.

He held his gun at the ready in case Dugan was still here, waiting to ambush him. The sound of the wind whipping through the stone walls echoed around him.

Then he spotted a T-shirt on the floor of the den. A green T-shirt that looked like the one Timmy had been wearing when Dugan had snatched him.

His breath stalled in his chest as he knelt to examine it. Dammit.

No...

Blood dotted the shirt and a note had been pinned to the sleeve.

Say goodbye to your son, McGregor. I won.

Chapter Nineteen

Miles doubled over as pain and denial ripped through him. No...Timmy could not be dead.

He couldn’t be.

A loud groan punctuated the air, and somewhere on a distant level he realized it had come from him. His chest heaved for air, the room swirled with an icy darkness that beckoned and bile rose to his throat.

He thought he was going to vomit and pushed to his feet, staggered outside and hung his head over the side of the concrete walkway. Dragging in a huge gulp of air, he fought the nausea.

Then he felt Jordan’s hand on his back. Her fingers slowly rubbing the base of his neck.

“Miles, Timmy...he may still be out there. Dugan could just be toying with you.”

He spun toward her, his heart beating frantically, panic paralyzing him. Tears must have leaked from his eyes because she lifted one hand and wiped at his cheeks.

For a moment he was so dizzy he couldn’t see.

She gripped his jaw with her hands and kissed him gently. “Listen to what I said. Dugan is sick. He may just be tormenting you. Otherwise, where’s Timmy’s body?”

Her words made him buckle over again, and she caught him and wrapped her arms around him. Pain wrenched him so deeply it cut at his soul.

“I know you’re scared,” Jordan said firmly. “But pull it together, Miles. We need to search the house. He could have tied Timmy up somewhere and left him here.” She jerked his face up. “Don’t give up, do you hear me? Let’s look around in case he’s here. If he is, he needs us to find him.”

Her stern voice shattered the panicked terror overwhelming him, and he nodded. Dragging in a breath, he jumped into motion and began to search the compound.

They used his flashlight and crept through the big block house, combing room to room, checking closets and storage units and even searching for a trap or secret door. But an hour later Miles knew the place was empty.

There were two smaller buildings, one a garage where some old tools had been stored, the second a space that looked as if it had been used as a drug lab. The scent of chemicals still lingered behind.

Finally Miles gave in to defeat. “He’s not here.” He scanned the property. “Unless he’s out there somewhere.”

Jordan shuddered, but shook her head. “We won’t stop looking, Miles. Call the local police and ask them to organize a search team. We can’t possibly search the area by ourselves.”

Miles agreed, phoned Sanchez and filled him in.

“It will be impossible to get a search team there at this hour,” Sanchez said. “But I will have men there at dawn.”

Miles wanted to lay into him and order men to come out now, but it was pitch-dark and they had miles to cover where Dugan could have left Timmy. If they waited until morning, they could get a chopper and cover more ground.

He just hoped Dugan had lied, and that it wouldn’t be too late.

That he hadn’t hurt Timmy or left him out in the elements alone to die.

His phone buzzed, and he snapped it open.

“Miles, it’s Blackpaw.”

“Please tell me you have good news,” he said gruffly.

A long sigh echoed back. “I’m afraid not.”

Miles braced himself. “Then what?”

“It’s about Belsa.”

“You found him?”

“Not exactly. But one of Marie’s neighbors saw Ables’s photo on the news, and guess what?”

He cursed. He was in no mood for games. “Just tell me, dammit.”

“Belsa and Ables are the same man.”

Miles gritted his teeth. God...Marie had had no idea she’d been dating Dugan’s half brother. That he’d probably stalked her, even introduced himself to her and his son, so he could be close to them to help his brother.

So had he killed Marie or had Dugan?

* * *

J
ORDAN’S HEART POUNDED
as Miles relayed the news about Belsa.

He was so upset, Jordan took his arm and pulled him toward the Jeep. “Get in, I’ll drive.”

Miles shook his head in protest, but she shoved him into the passenger side and he was so weary and in such a fog that he let her.

She checked the GPS and found a motel the next city over and headed to it.

Jordan wanted to alleviate Miles’s pain, but the truth was she had experienced the same blinding, terrible grief after losing her little brother, and that type of shock robbed you of your breath and senses.

But Timmy wasn’t dead. She wouldn’t believe it until they found his body.

Her counseling instincts warned her not to give Miles false hope, but she refused to listen to them. If he gave up and Timmy was out there, Timmy needed them to keep looking.

Miles sat in a stony silence as she drove, the silence deafening as the tires churned over desolate stretches of pocked road. Finally a sweep of buildings cropped into view, the lights of another small town dotting the distance.

Jordan headed into town, found the motel and tried to ignore the rugged, dirty accommodations as she and Miles checked in.

The man behind the desk gave her a lecherous smile when he realized they had no luggage, but she ignored him and asked for one room anyway. Let him think what he would. She didn’t give a damn.

All she cared about now was finding Timmy and comforting Miles.

He rallied enough to look around warily as they made their way to the room, his hand close to his gun at all times. Jordan opened the door and winced at the bare furnishings, then shrugged it off.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can go down and pick us up some food.”

“I can’t eat anything.” Miles clenched her hand. “And you aren’t going anywhere in this town alone, Jordan. It’s not safe.”

She gathered that, but she wanted to help.

His body shuddered against her, and she slid a hand up to cup his cheek. “Go shower. We’ll rest and start over in the morning. Maybe we’ll hear something more by then, get another lead.”

Or meet the search team to look for Timmy.

Miles’s despondent look indicated that he was thinking the same thing.

“Come on, a shower will do us both good.” She took his hand and coaxed him into the tiny bathroom. Under other circumstances, she wouldn’t have dared step foot in the shower stall of a roach motel, but tonight the conditions didn’t matter.

Miles stood ramrod straight, his body rigid as she reached for his shirt and began to unbutton it. “Jordan—”

“Shh, let me.”

His dark gaze latched with hers, emotions brimming to the surface. Pain. Need. Fear.

Hunger.

She couldn’t do any more about finding Timmy tonight but she could do this. She raised herself on tiptoe and dragged her mouth to his.

* * *

M
ILES SHUT ALL THE DARK
thoughts from his mind. He had to. It was the only way he could keep from throwing himself against a wall.

Or eating his gun.

And neither would help him find his son.

Jordan’s words taunted him—Timmy might still be alive. Dugan could be playing them.

The bastard was just cruel enough to pull that kind of sick stunt.

Jordan’s other theory nagged at him, too. Dugan might be planning to create his own little family with Timmy....

Over his dead body.

Jordan closed her lips over his, and a surge of white-hot need raged through him. Adrenaline mingled with raw desire, and he tunneled his hands in her hair, ripped out the ponytail holder and spread the luscious strands over her shoulders just as he’d wanted to do since he’d first met her.