Cowboy's Secret Son

The housekeeper left with a last pointed look. Her words made Courtney examine Jared’s expression more closely. She recognized the tension tightening his mouth and the worry in his eyes. But also a caution that she might have interpreted as suspicion before she’d spoken with Velma.

He sat across from them and pinned her gaze with his. “You’ll stay. I’ll help Dylan all I can, but you need to be honest with me. About everything. Deal?”

“I expect the same.”

“That goes without saying.” He crossed his arms, building a thick and solid wall between them. “So, who do you think is threatening you?”

She’d known he would ask. She wished she had an answer. “I have no idea.”

His frown deepened. “You must have some theory. You have to have been thinking about it from the moment you read the note.”

“Of course I have.” She raised her voice slightly. Dylan squirmed in her arms and she forced herself to relax, lower her voice. “My life is simple and mundane. It’s just me and Dylan. I can’t imagine who would see me as an enemy.”

He didn’t respond but she could see the skepticism in his eyes.

“I’m telling you the truth.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve never heard of a ransom note before a kidnapping. Not to mention the unusually specific amount. Is it connected to your home, your family, your job?”

“The only numbers in my life matching over three million dollars are items from the gallery and my grandmother’s trust.”

Those words had him straightening is his chair in clear interest. “Trust?”

“It may sound promising, but it’s not what you think. The money is specifically earmarked for the running of the gallery. Even the penthouse where I live is reserved for the gallery curator. I have no access to the money.”

She stroked Dylan’s arm and the baby’s breathing evened again. “There have been a few protests and threatening letters at the museum because of the Native American exhibit. The artifacts were collected during the nineteenth century, but the museum is in the process of returning the authenticated pieces to the original tribes.”

“What are they worth?”

She understood the real question behind his query. “In total, a lot more than three million.”

“So it doesn’t explain the exact dollar amount.” Jared rubbed his temple. “How about one piece?”

“I’ll contact my assistant and have her look at the insurance values to know if any single artifact would match.”

“It’s a place to start,” Jared said.

“But why would they threaten my son and kill Marilyn?”

“Marilyn was collateral damage, as harsh as that sounds. Dylan is a way to guarantee the money, but the amount has to mean something.” Jared was silent for a moment. “What about relationships?”

The questions cloyed at the base of her neck. She recognized why he asked, but each query felt like an underlying accusation. “Don’t you think I’ve racked my brain, gone through every possibility? And just so we’re clear, I haven’t dated anyone since I learned I was pregnant with Dylan. He’s my only focus.”

“And before? Maybe someone who didn’t want to break up? A stalker?”

“I hate to go against the stereotype of what you see about New York women on TV and in the movies, but I was more focused on my education and proving myself in my career than in serial dating.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

The more she justified her life, the more the fury bubbled deep in her belly. “This is getting us nowhere.”

He winced. “You’re right. I’m not a cop, I’m a rancher. We need professional help.”

Courtney tightened her hold on Dylan. “Why am I afraid I’m not going to like what you’re about to say? Please don’t tell me you want to call the police.”

“Not the police, but a friend. He works for a company called CTC. Covert Technology Confidential. They’re local. I trust them, and they take...unusual jobs. On the down low. CTC has the expertise we need to identify who wrote that note.”

Her entire body shivered. Were they really going down this path? “What if all the guy wants is the money? What if we gave him the money and he does go away? Wouldn’t that be safer?”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I want to. I know you don’t want to give in to blackmail, and part of me agrees. But the part of me that’s desperate to protect Dylan thinks we should pay.” There. She’d finally spoken the words aloud.

With a solemn nod of his head, Jared contemplated her quietly for a few moments. “I understand. But I have to ask this. Could you live knowing he threatened to kill Dylan, wondering if tomorrow is the day the abductor might come back with more threats, more requests? Or that he’ll succeed?”

Jared’s words were stark and harsh. She couldn’t stop the chill settling at the base of her spine. “Of course not. I don’t want to look over my shoulder the rest of my life. I don’t want to be terrified Dylan won’t come home from school one day. You see it on the news and wonder what you’d do if the worst happened to you. Yesterday the fear became all too real. It’s a nightmare I can’t escape.”

He didn’t respond, and she realized it was her call. She twisted her hands in her lap. Both were such a huge risk. “You really think your friends can help?”

“I do. From what I’ve seen, they have experts working for them that I wouldn’t bet against.”

She studied his face, his strong jaw. She recognized the determination in his eyes. She might not know Jared well, but something in that intense gaze, in the loyalty Velma had showed him convinced her to believe in him. She sucked in a long, slow breath. “Okay. We’re in this together. Call them.”

Jared gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder, strode across the room and picked up the landline. He dialed a number. “Ransom. It’s Jared King. I need your help. And I need your word you’ll keep it very quiet.”

While he spoke to the man he’d convinced her to place her faith in, Courtney shifted Dylan in her arms. Poor baby. He was down for the count. She slipped his blanket from the diaper bag and placed it on the thick rug before laying him down. His face looked so sweet, so innocent. She shuddered at the flash of the memory of yesterday. She could have lost him. She almost did. Right now, she’d never felt more vulnerable.

Part of her wanted to run away from the world, just disappear, but that would solve nothing.

A loud knock sounded at the door. Roscoe walked inside. She placed her fingertips on her lips and nodded down at the sleeping baby.

“The men have surveyed the immediate area. Nothing suspicious,” Roscoe said in a low voice, eyeing her with skepticism.

His loyalties were clear. She didn’t blame him. But she wouldn’t allow him to get in her way, either.

Jared held up his hand and finished his conversation. “I’ll see him when he gets here.” He hung up the phone and turned to Roscoe. “Léon from CTC will be here later today. Make sure he has everyone’s full cooperation.”

Roscoe straightened, a scowl twisting his countenance. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes? Alone.”

Jared gave the man a quick nod. He pulled out a Glock from the desk drawer and slipped it into his waistband. “I’ll be right back.”

They disappeared through the door. She had to wonder if he had a weapon hidden in every room. Right now, that didn’t seem to be a bad idea.

“I don’t think Jared’s foreman likes me,” she whispered at the sleeping baby.

Velma hovered in the open door. “Faith isn’t Roscoe’s forte, and he’s definitely not subtle. He doesn’t like anybody he doesn’t know, but if he takes your side, he never wavers. He was foreman for Jared’s daddy, and when Mr. King passed on, Roscoe watched the place until Jared could come home from the Army to take over the ranch. He’s made it his job to keep the boy from working or worrying himself to death like his father. He’d do anything to protect Jared.”

“And I’m someone who came here with trouble in my wake. I get it,” Courtney said.

“You don’t know her!” Roscoe’s shout filtered from the other side of the house. “She’s after the money. Just like—”