Promise Kept (22 page)

“Where did she go? Who hit you?”

Ted staggered to his feet. “I didn’t see a thing. Someone came up behind me. One minute I’m standing looking out the door, the next nothing.”

“Call my brother, the sheriff—he’ll get here ASAP,” Donovan said. “I’ll check the barn again.”

“No. I will,” Ted said. “I may have a knot on my head, but I can do my job. You make the call.”

Donovan dialed, watching as Ted walked a grid, his eyes on the ground. At the dog pen, he bent down, whipped out his handkerchief, and picked up something.

“Phyl’s missing, Dugan,” Donovan said, his voice none too steady. “Put out an alarm. If I figure out who took her, I’ll be in touch.”

Ted walked over to Donovan.

“Dugan is setting up roadblocks. But we need to know who took her,” Donovan growled.

“What’s this? And who does it belong to?” Ted asked. He held up a children’s book so Donovan could see it. “Was it in the barn earlier?”

“Not that I know. I’ll check with Mark. He hasn’t been here in weeks so it’s not likely to be his. If not, I may know who took her.” There was only one person he could think of. Phyl and Mark had met Mateo in the bookstore. Mark had made the comment that Mateo had given him a book.

“Bring me a plastic bag. I’ll need this for evidence.”

Donovan ran to the house and was back in less than a minute, a box of bags in his hand, a cell phone to his ear. “Dugan, Gregory Mateo took Phyl. Get a deputy over to his house. He’s not likely to be there, but check anyway. Be sure and let the guys on the roadblock know. Do you have a description of his car?” He hung up when Dugan assured him he had a description, and would get right on it. Donovan stalked over to Ted. “Phyl told me there was something wrong about the guy. Why didn’t I listen?”

“He hasn’t had time to get far. Tell me, who is Gregory Mateo?”

Donovan told him, watching as Ted carefully put the book in one of the bags. “A photographer taking pictures of ranches in the area. From their first meeting, Phyl didn’t like him. Give me your keys.” Donovan held out his hand.

Ted handed them over. “I’m coming with you.”

“Get yourself to the hospital. I’m looking for Phyl.” When he found Mateo he’d beat the hell out of him.

“I have a gun. You don’t.”

“Lot of good it did,” Donovan mumbled.

He slammed on the brakes at the backdoor, ran inside, was back in less than a minute. “Here,” he said. “Make yourself useful and load the gun.”

“Jeez!” Ted said, taking the forty-five. He checked it out and loaded it. “I guess you know how to use this.”

Instead of answering, Donovan took the gun, put it in his lap and hit the accelerator. The truck jumped to eighty in thirty-seconds.

Ted opened his cell phone, told his boss what had happened. “Get everything you can on a guy by the name of Gregory Mateo. Claims to be a photographer taking ranch pictures in the area.” He listened a minute and hung up.

“They’ll get back to me.”

When they got to the main road, Donovan didn’t slow when he made a left, then a few miles down, took another left. Ted held onto the dash as the truck fishtailed, then shot forward.

“Where are you going?”

“To the house Mateo rented.”

“He has to be smarter than that.”

“Maybe, but we might find a clue to where he’s going.” If not Donovan didn’t know what to do next.

He couldn’t lose Phyl.

Not now. Not ever.

Chapter Nineteen

As they sped down the Farm to Market road, Phyl looked over at Mateo. He was nervous. Why wouldn’t he be? The FBI, the U.S. Marshals, Dugan and his deputies would be after him now. She prayed they weren’t too far behind. Then realized how impossible that would be. She would have to think of a way to get out of this herself.

“Did you poison Freckles?”

He looked over at her, grinned. “That crazy dog? Did it scare the shit out of you?”

Just as she’d originally thought, they’d known where she was for a very long time. She hadn’t been safe at all. She grabbed her stomach. How naïve was she to imagine she could out-think a killer?

When Mateo turned into a driveway a half-mile from the Callahan ranch, Phyl sat up straighter. “Where are you taking me?”

“Where we’ll be safe.”

“They’ll catch you, you know. You’ll go to jail like everyone else in the cartel.”

Mateo laughed with a confidence that made Phyl flinch. “Not likely. Nobody knows who I am, and the authorities sure as hell don’t know where I am.”

“I don’t understand. If you were going to kidnap me, why didn’t you do it before now?”

“I was waiting for the right time.” He looked over at her. “Like now.”

That didn’t make sense either. “Gutierrez is in jail. So is everyone who worked for him.” So why hadn’t Mateo been picked up along with the rest of the gang?

They pulled into the Adams ranch. The owner was the guy who had tried to take the Callahans down. Did he have anything to do with this? She doubted it.

She looked around in the fading light. The place was deserted, the grass uncut. Everything about the place had a dejected look. She expected him to stop at the house where large flowerpots at the front door stood with dried leaves and stems. A few pieces of farm machinery lay in the high grass. In a couple more years, the place would be in ruins. They didn’t stop. Instead, they sped past.

When they came to a barn, he pulled the car inside, got out, shut the door and shoved a board through the old-fashioned lock. Now was her chance. She opened her door, and ran.

He was beside her in an instant. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What are you going to do with me? I told the authorities everything I know. I’m no use to you or your boss.”

“That means you’re expendable.”

Her heart stopped.

He’s going to kill me!

She’d never see Mark again. Never see him grow up. And Donovan? She loved him, and she’d never get the chance to tell him. Her heart slammed so hard against her ribs she thought she might die.

Taking the knife out of its scabbard, he held it to her neck. “This would be so easy.”

She wanted to kick and scream. The knife stopped her.

He grabbed an old, dusty tarp, threw it over the car, made sure nothing showed but the tires. Taking her arm, he pulled her to the end of the barn, stepped out and locked another door. What was this? An extension of the barn, but she didn’t have time to see much as he dragged her to another door, opened it and pulled her inside.

In the silence, the click of the lock sounded like a death knell.

It had turned dark outside, was darker in here, but she could tell they were in a fairly large room.

Mateo pulled out a flashlight, turned it on. She gasped.

“Nice, huh?”

It was a living room with a sofa, table and chairs. Though everything was old and dusty, the furniture was in good condition. A kitchen was to the side and she saw a couple of cases of water and another case of something she couldn’t make out. Had to be the bunkhouse.

“This will be home until I get word on what to do with you.” Pulling her through the room, he opened another door, pushed her inside. “Be good and I’ll give you water and something to eat.”

Then he shut and locked the door.

She stood there in total darkness.

Petrified.

The blackness smothered her, had her gasping for breath.

No. She couldn’t have a panic attack now. Not when she had to find a way out. But the darkness held her in a grip of fear that had nothing to do with the man on the other side of the door.

This was a fear she’d had since her mom died. A fear she’d learned to live with—to accept as part of her life.

It was hours before they’d found her back when she was a child. How long would it take now?

That same panic grabbed her by the throat. She wanted to scream again, to be rescued again. But she knew it wouldn’t happen.

She was on her own. In the dark!

For what seemed like forever, she stood there, immobilized by old fear.

She took several deep breaths. She had to stay calm. If she wanted to see her son and the man she loved again, she’d have to rescue herself.

Looking around, she tried to get a feel for the room. There had to be a way out. A window or a door.

In the darkness, she saw nothing.

With her heart in her throat, she groped her way across the room, stumbled into something, felt until she realized it was a bed. She sank down on it, tried to steady her heartbeat; told herself that at least she was alive. When it was daylight, she’d find a way out of here. She had to get back to Mark. And to Donovan.

If she could get over this smothered feeling. If she could calm her heartbeat. If she could think.

The door opened and something slammed onto the floor.

“Water. A bathroom is to your left.”

“I can’t see.”

He laughed.

She would be in darkness until morning.

The door shut and was locked again.

She inched her way down the bed, curled into a ball and felt five again. If she shut her eyes, she would pretend to sleep. Maybe this suffocating feeling in her chest would leave.

****

Donovan wheeled Ted’s truck into the yard of the house Mateo had rented from the Jacobsons and slammed on the brakes. Deserted.

Donovan got out of the truck, tucked the gun in his pocket, ran to the door and pounded on it until his hand turned red. Ted came up beside him. “He isn’t here.”

“Stand back,” Donovan ordered. Using his elbow, he punched out a glass pane. Putting his hand inside he unlocked the door.

“We need a warrant,” Ted reminded him.

“You need one. I don’t,” Donovan said grimly as he stepped over glass particles and into the living room. Ted followed him inside.

The room was typical old-style country. Each room a square with connecting doors. “Nothing here but a couch, chair, and an old TV.” They went to the kitchen, opened drawers. “Everything here probably came with the house,” Donovan said, his voice full of fear. Where had the bastard taken her? Was he out of the county by now? Were they wasting their time?

“I’m going to check the bedroom,” Ted said, leaving Donovan cursing and slamming drawers.

They met back in the kitchen. “Nothing. It’s as if no one was ever here.”

“Sheriff!” Dugan shouted a warning from the front door.

Donovan stepped out of the kitchen. “Put your gun away, Dugan. I have a U.S. Marshal with me, and we didn’t find a thing. I doubt you’ll even find a fingerprint.”

“You should’ve waited for a warrant,” Dugan complained as he put his Glock in its holster. “You could’ve screwed up the whole thing with your commando tactics.”

“This your brother?” Ted asked.

“I guess you’re the U.S. Marshal,” Dugan said, putting out his hand. “Dugan Callahan.”

“Ted Young.”

They shook hands, searched the rest of the house to see if they could find anything that would lead them to Phyl.

“Are the roadblocks up?”

“They went up immediately.”

“Do you think Mateo is still in the area, or did he have time to get away?” Donovan asked.

Dugan shrugged. “Go back to the ranch, Donovan. You should be with Mark.”

Mark! He’d have to tell him his mom was missing and no one knew where she was. How could he? The two of them had never been apart. Now he had to tell him this?

What if they found her too late? He wouldn’t go there.

When they stepped outside, it was dark. Dugan was on his cell phone calling for a deputy with a forensics kit.

Ted’s cell rang. He was off in less than a minute. “There is no Gregory Mateo,” he said.

“What?” Donovan shouted. “Then who the hell is this guy?”

“What’s going on?” Dugan said, coming toward them.

Ted told him.

“How could I have been so gullible? Phyl told me all along she didn’t trust the guy! Even the dogs didn’t like him. What does that say about me?” Donovan wanted to kick himself six ways from Sunday. “Does he have anything to do with the cartel?” he asked Ted.

“I don’t know. But it would be too big a coincidence for him to be anyone else.”

“You’re right. So let’s assume he is. Then why wasn’t his name on the flash drive?” Donovan asked.

“Maybe it was,” Ted said, grabbing his cell again.

“Check the files on the flash drive for a Gregory Mateo.” He listened a minute. “Get back with me.”

“Go to the ranch, Donovan. I sent a deputy to stay with Mom until you get back, but right now, I need every man in the field looking for Phyl.”

“I’ll take him home,” Ted promised. “Then I’ll check back with you. I was just told that the only person they couldn’t find who was listed in the files and not arrested was a man named Erik Tilton. He’s Gutierrez’s nephew. He didn’t do a whole lot for his uncle in the drug trade. According to what’s in the files, he was more of a gopher than anything. But if Mateo is Tilton, he’s the last man standing, so to speak. If he’s been given the job to eliminate Phyl, he’ll do it if for no other reason than to prove himself. We have to find them before he does.”

Hearing the words made Donovan weak in the knees. He barely made it to the truck before he collapsed in the seat.

Phyl, dead?

No way. He wouldn’t let it happen.

As Ted drove back to the ranch, Donovan tried to think—reason out where Phyl could be. When they got there, and he saw the deputy’s cruiser, he realized he’d have to talk to Mark immediately. His stomach, which was already in knots, rose to his throat. He couldn’t tell Mark the truth, at least not all of it—not the part where his mom might die if they didn’t find her.

“I’m going to the station and meet up with Dugan. Call you later,” Ted said as he backed out, turned around and headed back to town. Donovan would much rather be with him than face Mark.

Perhaps Mom had told him. No. She’d wait.

He walked over to tell the deputy to report to Dugan, then went inside. Mark ran to him. Donovan picked him up, hugged him tight.

“Where’s Mom?”

Donovan sent a questioning look at his mom. She shook her head. “Why don’t we go in the living room and sit down.”

Mark wiggled out of his arms. “Where’s Mom?”