Lonestar Homecoming (31 page)

Looking into his dark eyes, she didn't doubt he spoke the truth. “No,” she said.

His hand went to his pocket, and she knew he concealed a weapon there. She bolted for the trees. He shouted after her, but she plunged into the cool sanctuary of the pines.

A
PINE BRANCH SLAPPED
G
RACIE IN THE FACE
. S
HE STUMBLED AND WENT
down on one knee, then regained her feet and rushed across the blanket of pine needles.
Stupid, so stupid.
He'd set a trap, and she'd walked right into it. She had to get away, warn Michael, so he could help her save Hope. She should have done that in the first place, but she'd thought she could fix this problem herself.

If she could lose Cid, she might be able to circle back around to her car. He bellowed her name, but he wasn't close.The trees were so thick through here, he would have trouble spotting her. She needed a place to hide.

She kicked off her flip-flops, pausing long enough to angle them in a different direction. It might throw him off.A ridge of rocks poked up just across the creek.When she plunged into the stream, the cold shock of water made her gasp. She struggled against the suction of the muddy bottom but managed to reach the shelter of the rocks and hunker down behind them. She lay on her stomach and peered through a wedge in the rocks.

Cid emerged from the trees, then stood, staring around. He stooped and picked up one of her flip-flops, then stared in the direction they pointed. She willed him to follow the false trail she'd laid. When he kept the slipper and headed away from the creek, she let out the breath she'd been holding. Once he was out of sight, she rose and rushed away.

For the next two hours she hid, then watched before finally circling back to the parking lot.The dying sun threw rays of red and gold across the tops of the piñon pine trees and cast shadows deeper into the forest. Cid surely assumed that she'd found help somewhere by now. He would have run away before the law showed up here. Glancing around the area one last time, she exited the forest and ran for her car. Cid's Mercedes was gone, just as she'd suspected.

She dug her key out of her pocket, then opened her car door.The lights didn't come on inside. Surely she hadn't left the lights on or done something else stupid to drain the battery. Jamming the key into the ignition, she turned the key.The engine clicked, but nothing happened. “No!” she muttered.

“You stupid
chica
,” Cid said from behind her.A steel barrel pressed against her neck. “Get out of the car.”

Her hands dropped from the steering wheel. She glanced around for a weapon, but the front seat held only her purse. Her ankle gun was out of reach.

“Move before I blow a hole in your head right here,” Cid snarled.

She got out and went to stand near the front of the car, where she'd be closest to the woods. If she got a chance, she'd bolt again. Cid had a length of rope in one hand and a revolver in the other.

“Turn around,” he barked.When she complied, he roughly wound the rope around her wrists. He jabbed her between her shoulder blades. “Move. Over there.” He pointed.

She saw his car parked down the road in a turnout. Stupid, stupid. If only she'd paid better attention. She stumbled along on sore feet. When she neared his car, the passenger door opened. A black-haired man she didn't recognize got out, but she had no eyes for him. Her attention was riveted by what the lighted interior of the car revealed: her daughter's frightened face in the backseat.

She started forward. “Hope!”

Cid grabbed her bound hands and yanked her back cruelly. “Not so fast.” He shoved her face-first onto the hood of the car. “Stay right there.”

The heat of the engine radiated through the hood against her cheek. She turned her head to watch the two men.And a woman, who stepped from the passenger seat.The woman who had warned her.

“Watch her, Zita.”

“I am sorry,” Zita whispered when she stopped behind Gracie.

Cid stepped nearer to the other man. “You get ahold of Wheeler?”

“Yeah. I sent him a picture of the kid crying in the backseat.That should make him see reason.”

Gracie shoved herself upright. “What's Sam Wheeler got to do with this?”

Cid quirked an eyebrow. “You will be quiet or I will shoot you right here in front of Hope.You don't deserve to live after the way you treated me. I am letting you live to keep her calm.” He gestured to the car hood. “Lie down on there again. Not another word.”

“Do as he says,” Zita said.

She did.With the heat baking her cheek again and the stink of the engine in her nose, she tried to think. Had Sam learned from Cid that she had a child? Hope was being used as a pawn, but Gracie couldn't quite ferret out how. She hoped Zita might turn out to be an ally.

Cid grabbed her bound wrists again and thrust her toward the backseat of the car. “Get in.”

She half fell onto the seat, then crawled the rest of the way. “Hope,” she croaked. “Are you okay?”

“Mommy!” Hope crawled into her lap. “The bad man hit Poppy. He had blood on his head.” She started crying and pressed her wet face into Gracie's neck.

Gracie wished she could embrace her daughter. “It's going to be okay, honey,” she whispered. She kissed her daughter, tasting the salt on Hope's wet cheeks.

The car shifted as both men climbed in. Cid glanced in the back. “Better get comfortable.We have a long night ahead of us.”

Zita opened the door and got in back with them. She didn't look at Gracie.

“Where are you taking us?” Gracie asked Cid.

“To visit the kid's grandpa. One look at her face and he will do whatever we tell him.”

“What do you want him to do?”

“Nothing that concerns you. A few hours and it will be all over.” He leaned over the seat. “Turn around and I will untie you. Do not try anything.” His gaze flickered to Hope.

Gracie caught his unspoken threat. She turned around and he loosened the ropes. If only there was some way to leave a message for Michael. She had no doubt he'd come looking for her.

27

“W
E'VE BEEN DRIVING FOR HOURS
.” M
ICHAEL HIT THE STEERING WHEEL
with his hand.“We've scoured the lodge and driven every mile of roads. The last call I made to the sheriff was useless too.They haven't seen a thing.”

Rick leaned forward with an intent expression. “I thought maybe she'd be at the observatory.” He glanced at his watch.“We need to get out of these mountains so I can check voice mail. Just in case Allie needs something for the kids or. . . or if Gracie called.”

Fat chance of that,
Michael thought. He turned the car around and headed out of the valley. He passed a turnoff to a picnic area that had been closed the last time they came through.

Rick turned his head to stare down the drive to the parking lot. “That had a chain and a closed sign on it two hours ago.Turn around. That's one place we haven't checked.”

“Okay.” Michael turned the car around on the deserted Skyline Drive and approached the turnoff. One of the car's tires bounced over a hole, then out again. “It sure wasn't closed to fix the road,” he grumbled. His car's headlamps pierced the darkness. “There's a car parked here,” he said, squinting.

“It's Allie's!” Rick threw open his door before their vehicle rolled to a stop.

Michael slammed the gearshift into park, then hurtled from the car. Not bothering to shut the door behind him, he approached the driver's door, where Rick stood peering inside. “Anything?”

“Nope. Empty.”

Michael cupped his hands to his mouth. “Gracie!” His voice rang into the trees. “I'll get a flashlight. I have a little one on my key ring.” He jogged back to his car and retrieved it. Starting toward the picnic area, he flipped it on.The tiny beam of light touched something on the ground, and he paused.A flip-flop. He picked it up and shone the light on it. “This is Gracie's,” he said. “Look. Here's Caesar's teeth marks.”

The dog woofed beside him, and he realized Caesar had gotten out of the car. He held it to the dog's nose. “Find Gracie, boy.” Caesar whined, then trotted toward the woods. “Come on,” Michael said.

He'd only taken two steps when his cell phone dinged its voice mail notification. “We must have cell coverage here.” He hoped Gracie had left a message. He scrolled through the calls and saw one from Lister.

“Gracie's dad called while the cell phone was out of range,” he told Rick. He returned the call. It seemed to ring forever before Lister picked up. “Mr. Lister? It's Michael Wayne. I saw you called. I didn't bother to listen to the message. Is everything okay?”

“No, son. No, it's not.”The older man's voice was weak and thready. “They took Hope.”

Michael closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Who took her?”

“I don't know.Two guys. Hispanic, both of them. I was packing a few things to take to town, and they busted in here about two hours after you left. It's all my fault. I should have moved faster, but I had livestock to care for.”

“It's not your fault.What happened?”

“One of them scooped Hope up and started for the door. I grabbed a vase and was going to cream him with it, but the other smashed the butt of a gun against my head. I fell and was out a few seconds. Even when I came to, I was so disoriented, I couldn't move. I think they thought I was still unconscious, because they wouldn't have talked like that if they'd known I was awake.”

“Like what?” Michael prayed for a clue, any clue to the men's— and his daughter's—whereabouts.

“They told her to quit crying. Said they were taking her to see her grandfather.
I'm
her grandfather and I was lying right there, so I'm guessing it must be her dad's father.”

“Sam Wheeler,” Michael muttered. “Anything else?”

“That's all I heard.” His voice trailed away.

“Are you okay? Where are you?”

“In the hospital.They tried to take my phone away, but I wouldn't let them. Not until I talked to you. The police have been and gone. They're looking too.”

“If the doctor is keeping you, it must be serious! What's wrong?”

“I have a slight concussion but I'll be fine. Find my Gracie. And my granddaughter. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

“I'll do my best.When I find them, I'll call you.” He hung up his phone and repeated the conversation to Rick.

“Her other grandfather?” Rick said. “Any idea who that is?”

Michael nodded. “Sam Wheeler. He's been trying to get hold of Gracie for days.The first time she talked to him, he asked her if she'd had his son's child. She didn't know how he found out. It appears he's all wrapped up in this.”

“Any idea where he lives?”

“No, but I can find out.”Michael dialed Pickens's number and got his voice mail. He left a message asking for Wheeler's address.When he hung up, he dialed Estevez. This time the call was answered. He told Estevez what was going on.

“Hold on,” Estevez said. “I'm right by the computer.”

Michael heard the clicking of a keyboard. He didn't dare move from his spot in case he lost the signal. “Hurry up. My wife's and daughter's lives are in the balance,” he said.

“I can only go as fast as the computer will let me,” Estevez grumbled. “Got it.” He rattled off an address. “He's the governor of Arizona,” he said. “Did you know that?”

“Yeah, I did.” He rubbed his chin. “Hmm,Vargas is locked up in Arizona.”

“Yeah. So what?”

“I don't know, but it's interesting.”

Estevez gave an impatient huff. “That all you need? I have to go.”

“One more thing.” What he was thinking was crazy. “Look up Vargas's bio.What's his background? Does he have any kids?”

“Got it,” Estevez said. “He's got a son. Cid Ortega. Must be illegitimate since the last name isn't the same.”

Nausea rolled in Michael's gut. He didn't see the full puzzle yet, but the pieces showing were enough to terrify him. “Thanks for your help,” he told Estevez.

“You need backup?” Estevez asked.

“I don't have time to get to you,” he said. “We'll need to head to Wheeler's right now.”

“I can call agents in Arizona, and I'll get on the road myself. Let me call Fishman and get his authorization.”

“All right.Thanks.” He closed his phone. “Rick, we need to get to your plane.This beast has tentacles I didn't see until now.”

A
FTER A FAST CAR TRIP FOLLOWED BY A PLANE RIDE, THEN ANOTHER CAR
ride, Gracie could barely keep her eyes open. Her feet throbbed from the cuts and bruises she received on her run through the forest. Her throat was parched, and her tummy rumbled. Hope had eaten the sandwich Cid handed to her, but Gracie hadn't been able to choke down a morsel. She had to find some way to save Hope.

She shifted and crossed her ankles. When she did, the holster rubbed against her leg. Somehow she managed to maintain her expression. If she could get out her gun, they'd have a chance. But she didn't dare try it with Zita watching. Cid's sister had given her no indication that she'd help. Gracie hoped once Sam Wheeler did what was asked of him, Cid would let them go.A futile thought. He'd be more apt to kill them and bury them in the desert. She could only pray she had the opportunity to try to use the gun.

She'd been so stupid.Another wrong choice.Would she never learn?

“What about King? Did you take him home?”

Cid laughed. “He has a new home. At the rendering plant.”

Her fingers curled into her palms and she struggled not to cry. They may all be in the horse's shoes before the night was over.

They reached the gated drive back to the ranch house, and she suddenly recognized the place. It was the Wheelers' ranch getaway, where she'd gone four-wheeling with Jason a lifetime ago. She'd been to the Wheelers' big house in Scottsdale more often than this remote spot near Douglas.Was Sam even here?