Colorado Abduction

“I don’t want to test that theory by taking a bullet,” Neville said.

“Let’s find him,” Burke said. “You go right. I’ll go left. We’ll meet at the fence by the road.”

As Burke moved across the yard, he scanned the cold, moonlit landscape. There was virtually no cover. Burke longed for the city streets, crowded with parked cars and doorways to duck into. This sniper was probably an expert hunter. Not like the city punks who held their guns sideways, more concerned with looking cool than taking careful aim.

When he reached the fence and no other shots had been fired, he was fairly sure that their sniper was gone. He heard the door to the house open. A mob spilled onto the veranda. Carolyn and her brother were both carrying rifles. The other three FBI agents accompanied them.

Lucas and two other cowboys—also armed—charged toward the veranda from the two-story bunkhouse.

“There are way too many guns on this ranch,” Burke said. This was the land of the Second Amendment where the right to bear arms would not be infringed upon. He turned and looked across the road. From where he stood, he spotted four good positions for a sniper to hide, if he’d even bothered to take cover. With Neville behind the house and no one else keeping watch, the sniper could have stopped in the road, dropped to one knee, taken aim and fired. But why? What did he hope to gain by rousing the household?

“Sorry I missed him,” Neville said.

“Not your fault. One man can’t patrol an area this size.”

As he and Neville walked up the drive toward the house, Burke shivered in the December cold. He wasn’t wearing a jacket or hat, and hadn’t bothered to put on gloves. Responding to the threat had been his sole focus.

The gunfire bothered him because it didn’t make sense. As a rule, kidnappers kept close tabs on their hostages.

But two men had abducted Nicole. One could be with her while the other came here. Why? By now the kidnappers had to know that the FBI had been called in. Why take the risk of coming close?

He stopped behind the black rental van he and his men had driven from the Delta airfield. The back window was shot out, and there was a neat bullet hole in the rear license plate. None of the other vehicles showed signs of damage. The FBI van had been the target.

Carolyn stepped up beside him. Her rifle rested on her shoulder. “Looks like a pretty clear message, Burke. Somebody doesn’t like you.”

For a moment he grinned. He liked a challenge.

AFTER SHE’D HERDED EVERYONE back into the house, Carolyn took Burke and her brother into the office to talk strategy.

Somehow Carolyn had to turn the situation around and make it work. But what can I do? She couldn’t put in extra hours to get the job done. It didn’t matter that she was smart and strong. She couldn’t change fate.

Pacing on the carpet, she snapped at her brother, “Don’t drink that coffee. Caffeine keeps you awake.”

“Somebody needs to be alert.” He leaned against the desk and faced the sofa where Burke sat. “Looks like we made a mistake.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The kidnappers don’t want the FBI involved.”

“Of course they don’t.” Her temper flared. “That’s exactly why Burke and his men are staying here. We need their expertise.”

“Why? We’re paying the ransom. I’m not taking any chances with my wife’s safety.”

“You want reasons?” In spite of her brother’s distress, she had to be brutally honest. “I don’t think I can get my hands on a million dollars in cash by the deadline.”

“Why not? I’m sure there’s a way.”

“Even if we pay, there’s no guarantee that the kidnappers will bring Nicole back.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I know.”

“We’re ranchers, Dylan. We don’t know squat about crime. The best way to deal with these kidnappers is to follow the advice of experts. Right, Burke?”

He didn’t bother to nod. Instead, he sat in self-contained silence. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but hoped he had some kind of plan that involved more than sitting here waiting for the next call from the kidnappers.

Lucas Mann poked his head into the office. “I got a question for you, Carolyn. The men are asking if maybe you could see fit to give their guns back.”

“Seems to me that you’ve got plenty of other guns.”

“Well, sure.” He raked his fingers through his thinning salt-and-pepper hair. “Most everybody has backup weapons. But we want all the firepower we can get. Especially since some polecat is shooting at us.”

“And I suppose you’re missing your pretty new Glock nine millimeter?”

“Ain’t she a beaut?” A proud smile stretched his face, and she noticed the wad of chewing tobacco that made a pouch in his cheek. “I bought it when all this sabotage started up. Gave my old piece to MacKenzie, that new kid.”

“I’m assuming,” Burke said from the sofa, “that you legally transferred ownership.”

“Speaking of sabotage,” Carolyn said, quickly changing the subject. If Burke got official about the paperwork for all the firearms on this ranch, there would be trouble. “What’s your opinion, Lucas? Who do you think is behind it?”

“Don’t know who,” he said, “and I don’t know why. But it all started when we moved a couple hundred head onto the south grazing pasture, near the Widow Grant’s property.”

Dylan grumbled, “Don’t start.”

“Carolyn asked a legitimate question,” Lucas said. “And she deserves an answer.”

Apparently, there had been a dispute between these two. “Please, Lucas, continue.”

“The first time I found a fence post torn down, I told Dylan that we should herd them cattle to a different area. He wouldn’t hear a word of it. Then we had another incident. And another. Dylan still wouldn’t change his mind. He sure can be pigheaded. Not meaning any disrespect.”

“I didn’t move the cattle,” Dylan explained, “because I’m trying a new system of rotating the herd.”

On the sofa, Burke leaned forward. His heels hit the floor with a loud thump—a subtle but effective way to get their attention. “Lucas, can you tell me why having cattle in that pasture might provoke vandalism?”