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Voices rumbled through the dense woods.
“Have you found them?” Rudy shouted.
“No, man. Let’s get the hell out of here. This ain’t part of our plan.”
“Screw the plan.” Rudy’s voice rose. “Shoot the guy. The woman is mine.”
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY HUGGED THE rotted tree trunk with her body. Dust clogged her nose, and dirt coated her skin and clothes. Vivid terror held her captive like a ball and chain clamped to her. It beat a rapid warning in her chest.
She inched her fingers along the ground, through the leaves to touch the man’s hands. He clutched hers. He was there...with her. The thought gave her courage, which she feared she would need in the next few minutes.
“They have to be here somewhere,” Rudy said. “Help me look.”
“I’m done, man. I’m taking the money and leaving.”
“You better not.”
“The woman’s only trouble. She’ll get us caught, Rudy, and I’m not going back to prison.”
“You sorry bastard.”
“So long, sucker.”
“Devon!”
A gunshot rang out followed by a curse. Then a barrage of bullets slammed into the woods. A couple of shots hit the tree and the dried wood splintered over them. Neither moved or made a sound, but she gripped the man’s fingers tighter.
“You sorry sons of bitches, I hope you die out here,” Rudy screamed, and then the pounding of footfalls receded into the distance. Still neither one of them moved.
Neither wanted to die.
Silence was crucial.
Creep-crawly bugs swarmed out of the tree, covering their arms. Were they termites? Did they bite? The feel of them on her skin made her want to scream, but she knew her very life depended on her not responding.
The silence stretched. A soft rustling was the only sound. Sweat ran from her hair onto her neck and the heat was stifling. Breathing was difficult. She had to get out of here. Away from the bugs. The heat. Panic rose in her chest, but reality kept her grounded.
She lifted her head from her arm. “Are they gone?” came out barely audible.
“I’ll check.” He looked over the trunk and surveyed the scene. Then they both heard the sound—the revving of a motor. “They’re leaving.”
“Both of them?”
“I’m not sure, but we have to get this tape off our hands.” They shook off the bugs and crawled through the yaupons into a small opening. They sat in the dirt while he kept one eye on the woods, in case Rudy was lurking behind a tree.
With his teeth, he caught the edge of the tape on his wrists and pulled. Scooting closer, she used her fingers to help undo it. Then he helped her free her hands. The tape left open welts on her skin, but she was glad to be free of it.
“Now what?” she asked, instinctively knowing he would know what to do.
“We start walking.” He rose to his feet, as did she. Slowly, they trekked through the woods, down the gully and back to the shack. The van was gone and the dried grass torn apart where the men had sped away. “They’re gone,” he said. “I guess Rudy decided to go with the money.”
Sweat rolled down her back and pooled at her waistline. She was miserable, but at his words relief washed over her.
They were gone.
All the courage she had mustered and the fear she’d bottled up inside burst forth into an array of weakness she couldn’t control. Her body trembled and tears rolled from her eyes.
“Hey.” He touched her arm. “No tears. It’s dehydrating. Take a deep breath and keep all that moisture inside. You can’t fall apart now.”
“I...I...” She couldn’t form a sentence and she felt so weak in front of this strong man.
“C’mon. Let’s sit under a shade tree and figure out what we need to do.”
She sank down under a huge live oak, willing the tears away as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “I’m so thirsty,” she murmured.
“Me, too.” He sat beside her and drew up his knees. His legs and arms had scratches from the trees and she realized her arms were scratched, too. Yet he seemed cool as ever, unruffled about what they’d been through.
“Who are you?”
He looked at her and his dark eyes were tired, the first signs of stress she’d noticed. “Ethan James.”
“Thank you” was all she could say. After a moment, she found more words. “I’m so grateful you insisted on coming. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I wanted to make sure I get my bumper fixed.”
Through all her agony, she smiled. “I’ll fix it with my own two hands.”
They stared at each other for a long time and Abby felt a connection like she’d never felt before—a connection of trust and friendship. And above that she knew she could depend on him. Words like honor, loyalty and hero floated through her mind. She didn’t think there were men like him left. Of course, she could be delusional. But she still wanted to know more about him.
“What do you do, Ethan James?”
“I’m a detective for the Austin Police Department. I work homicide.”
It fit. “That’s why you’re so cool and collected.”
“I was in the Marines, too. The first thing you learn is to never show fear.”
“You have that mastered.”
“On the outside. Inside is a different story.” He leaned forward, scanning the landscape, and she knew he wasn’t going to talk anymore about himself. “We have two goals—to find water and a way out.”
“The police will be looking for us.”
“Yeah, but they don’t have a clue where we are. Our only hope is that there are surveillance cameras in the bank and...”
“Inside and out,” she said.
“Good. Then maybe that van will show up on the cameras and the cops can trace it. But that doesn’t help us unless Rudy or Devon tells them where they left us. They’ll deny it at first. All criminals do. The detectives will have to apply pressure and that will take time.”
“You mean we could be out here overnight?”
“Yes.” He got to his feet. “I’m guessing this is an old deer-hunter’s cabin that hasn’t been used for a while. The gully is probably a creek that dried up from the drought. But I’m hoping the hunters had access to another water supply. I’ll take a look around.”
He walked toward the shack and she had the urge to run after him. But she knew he wouldn’t leave her here. Strange, how she was so sure of that. She leaned her head against the tree and wondered if her father had been notified. Her heart ached at what he must be going through. He was strong, though, and would take care of Chloe. She was sure of that. Just like she was sure Ethan James would get them out of this nightmare.
The hot sun bore down like a furnace and she guessed it had to be midmorning by now. She’d left the house in such a hurry earlier that she’d forgotten her watch. In the afternoon the sun would be unbearable, and they would not be able to survive without water.
She was tired and thirsty and a feeling of lethargy washed over her. If she closed her eyes, she’d wake up in her apartment holding Chloe and watching SpongeBob SquarePants. The morning would all be a bad dream. Because men like Ethan James only appeared in women’s fantasies. They didn’t exist in real life.
* * *
“YOU KNEW WE had plans for the day. Why did you agree to keep Chloe?”
Everett Baines looked up from his paper into the furious face of his wife. “Abby needed help and I’m her father. I will always be there for her.”
“But we had plans.”
“Picking out new patio furniture? We can do that tomorrow or the next day.”
“You always put them before me—your wife.”
“Gayle, I’m not having this conversation with you again.” He picked up his coffee cup. “I’m going to watch cartoons with my granddaughter.”
“I’m still going shopping.”
“Fine. Buy whatever you want.” He walked into the den, placed his cup on the end table, and picked up his granddaughter from the sofa. Abby had her dressed in pink shorts, a pink-and-white halter top, white sandals and pink bows in her blond hair. Chloe clutched Baby, her favorite doll.
“Is Daddy coming, Grandpa?” she asked.
“No, sweetiepie. Your mom will pick you up.”
“’Kay.”
Everett had offered to pay for a top-notch lawyer, but Abby always refused. Because of Gayle. This time he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Doug’s lawyer controlled the situation and the visitation set out in the divorce papers. Which meant nothing to Doug, who did as he pleased. When Abby complained, the lawyers talked but nothing changed. That wasn’t acceptable anymore.
Sitting in his chair, he cradled Chloe close. She looked so much like Abby had at that age, blond curls and big blue eyes. Thank God she didn’t look anything like her father.
“Aren’t you going to feed her breakfast?” Gayle asked from behind him. “Abby lets her eat all that sugary cereal. It’s not good for her.”
“Go shopping, Gayle, before I lose my temper.”
The doorbell rang before she could get in a retort. “I’ll get it,” Gayle said. “Maybe it’s Doug for Chloe and then we can have our weekend back.”
He hated to tell her but he wasn’t going shopping under any circumstances. Abby’s last words were for him not to let Doug have Chloe. And he would honor her wishes. Doug needed to be taught a lesson.
Two tall men with Stetsons in their hands walked into the den. One had a gun on his belt as well as a badge. A cop. Something was wrong.
“Everett, these men would like to talk to you.”
He got to his feet, holding Chloe.
“I’ll take Chloe and fix her something to eat,” Gayle offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” he replied, but didn’t object as she took the little girl from him.
“Have a seat.” He waved a hand toward the sofa and resumed his. “What’s this about?”
The men sat, but it was a moment before either spoke. “It’s about your daughter, Mr. Baines,” the one with the badge told him.
“Abby.” He scooted to the edge of his seat, the hollowness in his stomach telling him it was something bad. “She’s at work.”
“That’s why we’re here. I’m Ross Logan with the Austin Police Department and this is Levi Coyote, a private investigator.”
He shook his head. “What does this have to do with my daughter?”
“I don’t know how else to say this, sir, but the bank where your daughter works was robbed this morning.”
“Oh, God! My d-daughter. Where’s my daughter?”
“She was taken hostage.”
“What!” His chest tightened in pain and he leaned back, clutching it.
Both men were on their feet.
“Mr. Baines, are you okay?” Ross asked.
“Everett!” Gayle screamed.
He gathered himself and sat up. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’m calling your doctor,” Gayle insisted.
“Do not call my doctor,” he warned. “It’s just the shock.”
“Do you have heart problems, Mr. Baines?” Levi asked.
“No. I had a spell one time, but the doctor said it was anxiety. I have a lot of stress in my life.”
“Maybe you should get checked out,” Ross suggested.
“No. Tell me what happened.”
The detective hesitated.
“Tell me.”
