Ellie’s head throbbed. She blinked open her eyes and bit back a groan as she tried to sort out her surroundings. The surface under her cheek vibrated, her clue that she was in the back of a moving vehicle. Her heart pounded heavily. Shit. This was bad.
Voices, loud and angry, carried from the front. Sharp pain radiating from her forehead muddled the words so she couldn’t make them out. The smell of cigarette smoke permeated the air. She rolled to her side, fighting back a wave of nausea, and became aware that her hands were uncomfortably secured behind her. She pulled at the restraints and heard a metallic clink. Handcuffs.
A desperate thought had her awkwardly bending her arms and in that split second, her situation kicked up from bad to grim. Her holster was there, but the gun was gone. No doubt, if they’d found her gun, they’d found her phone.
Hoping desperately for a break, she cast around frantically for her purse but didn’t see it. Then she remembered shoving her phone into a pocket of her coat. She couldn’t get her hands to her front to check for that, but she didn’t feel the weight of it. Something wet trickled along her eyebrow and she guessed it was blood. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up so she could lean against the sidewall.
Clearly, she’d been kidnapped, which meant whoever had taken her was trying to get to Sam. Linc was at the courthouse today, as were Seth and Bella. They would keep Sam safe.
She was in some sort of work van with a low, flat floor and two bucket seats in the front. Two men in heavy coats and beanies were taking turns snarling at each other. There were no windows in the back, only what looked like a couple of toolboxes and gray plastic bins with lids. A packing blanket wrapped around something bulky lay on the opposite side of the van.
“What the fuck was she doing with a gun?” Ellie jerked as she tuned into the conversation. Then she remembered that brief glimpse of the driver. His voice was pitched high with worry. Drew Martin glanced at the man in the passenger seat, then returned his attention to the road. For Sam’s sake she wished her suspicions about his brother had proven unwarranted.
“This is an open carry state, half the people in this county are armed.” The man in the passenger seat was heavier than Drew and appeared more relaxed as he sipped from a to-go cup, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
“I’m telling you, there’s something off there. She wouldn’t let me come in the house with a gun. Said it made her uncomfortable. Why would she say that if she’s one of us?”
“I’m not saying she’s one of us, dickwad. I’m saying it doesn’t prove anything. Creed could have given her the gun to carry for protection because we’re threatening him.”
“I don’t think so. Maybe she’s FBI or something.”
“Does she look FBI?”
“How the fuck should I know what FBI looks like? Isn’t that the point when they go undercover, that you don’t know who they are? We need to get rid of her before they come after us. I kept telling you guys taking her is a mistake.”
Her stomach knotted when she thought of what he meant by getting rid of her. And who were “you guys”?
“We stick with the plan. We grabbed her to get leverage over Creed. We want him to overturn Bannister’s conviction, and we don’t want the government taking our guns. If Big Dog wants us to get rid of her, then that’s what we do, but not until then.”
“We shouldn’t have done this. You don’t know my brother. You think he’s all civilized, but I’ve seen him lose his shit. Thought he was going to kill a guy once who’d punched Ben for being a fag.”
“We’ll deal with Creed.” The passenger looked over his shoulder, a wide smile splitting his round face. “Well, well, look who’s awake. Hello, sweetheart.” He frowned and pointed at his head. “Man, that looks painful. Sorry I hit you so hard. Had a job to do, that’s all. How you feeling? Got a headache?”
She ignored his questions. “Who are you?”
“You can call me Sarge, everyone does.”
“Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me?”
“We’re taking you someplace safe, and we’re going to hold on to you for a bit. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Shit, shit, shit!” Drew swerved and Ellie braced to keep from being rolled around.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? I should never have let you drive.”
“Cops are behind us with their lights on.” Panic edged Drew’s voice, and between the seats she could see his hands, knuckles white, gripping the steering wheel.
A thin, piercing wail sounded over the whine of the engine.
“Don’t freak out. They can’t be after us.”
“Someone must have seen us grab her in the parking lot.”
“No way. The van blocked the view from the store. There was no one in the parking lot when we grabbed her, and we had her in the car in less than thirty seconds. No one saw us. Pull over nice and easy like every other idiot out here and we’ll be fine.”
“The signal turned red. Should we run it? We get pulled over with her in the back and we’re done for.”
“Fuck no, we don’t run it. You’re such a dumbass.”
Drew stomped on the brakes and Ellie tumbled to her side. The sirens drew closer.
“What the fuck, man? Are you trying to get their attention?” Drew wasn’t the only one losing his cool.
The sirens passed, the sound fading, taking Ellie’s brief hope with it.
“Holy shit, I nearly pissed myself.”
Sarge made a sound of disgust. “If you’d listened to me in the first place, you’d save yourself a shitload of grief. Now get going before someone calls the cops to report a reckless driver.” He turned in his seat. “How we doing back there?”
Ellie remained slumped on the floor, her shoulders aching from her hands being pulled behind her back. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Not good. My head hurts and I get motion sickness. I feel like throwing up.” It didn’t take much effort to put a tremor in her voice. “Why have you kidnapped me?”
“We’re not planning to hurt you.” She didn’t believe that for a second. Maybe Sarge didn’t realize she’d overheard him and Drew talking about “getting rid” of her.
Drew slowed the vehicle.
“What the fuck are you doing?” From the temper in his voice, Sarge was at the end of his patience.
“She throws up she’ll stink up the whole van. I’m stopping. We got to look for a bag or something.”
Ellie could feel the vehicle turning. She moaned and gulped in a breath. With the headache and being in the back of the van, her claim of nausea wasn’t entirely a fabrication.
“Get back on the damn road. Who cares if she pukes all over herself? We’ve got to get her stashed before we’re pulled over for real.”
“She pukes, I puke. Happens every time.”
“God, you’re an idiot.”
The van stopped and Drew threw it into park.
“Could you have picked a worse place to stop? Circle around to the back of the store, dickwad. There’ll be dumpsters there and we’ll find something for her to spew into so your delicate sensibilities aren’t upset.”
“Stop calling me that.” The van rumbled to life again.
“What, dickwad? You are a dickwad, so that’s what you’re called.”
“Everyone in the militia chooses a code name. Big Dog’s is Big Dog. Mine’s Lobo. That’s what you’re supposed to call me.”
Sarge barked out a laugh lacking in amusement. “You got to earn your name, dickwad. I earned mine in the Marine Corps. Big Dog’s earned his because he’s big and he’s the top dog. So far all you’ve earned is dickwad.”
The van stopped and Ellie made a retching sound. She lay curled on her side, eyes closed.
“Shit, she’s gonna hurl.” Drew shoved open the driver’s door.
“Jesus Christ on a crutch.” Sarge opened his own door, and a second later, the rear doors of the van flew open. “Get out, girl.”
Ellie opened her eyes and gave him a suffering look. “I don’t feel good.” Behind Sarge’s silhouetted figure, the sky looked heavy with gray and sullen clouds.
He flicked away a lit cigarette. “We aren’t taking you to a garden party so I don’t really care if you don’t feel good. You need to puke or not?”
“I think so, but I can’t sit up with my hands behind my back.”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not taking those cuffs off.” He tugged her feet to draw her to the opening before grabbing her elbow and pulling her to a sitting position. “Get your feet under you and stand up.”
Drew stuck his head around the open door. Ellie stood, bent over at the waist, and made herself dry heave, then breathed heavily through her nostrils.
“You faking it, sweet thing?” Sarge jerked her upright.
“I’m trying not to throw up.” She groaned and pulled free to sit on the back bumper of the van. She looked at Drew. “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to hurt Sam?”
Drew’s face contorted. “He brought this on himself. He tell you I asked him for a loan against my inheritance, money that’s rightfully mine to begin with? He told me to fuck off.”
“Sam wouldn’t have said that to you.”
“Maybe not using those exact words, but the intent was the same. He thinks because he’s a big-ass judge he can treat his own brother like shit. Us snatching you will get his attention. Then we’ll have ourselves a conversation and he can give me some goddamn respect.”
Sarge shoved Drew aside. “You’re full of shit. This isn’t some petty personal vendetta. We’re doing this for the cause. Creed needs to be taught he can’t fuck with the Constitution.”
Ellie groaned and her legs shook. “Oh god. I have to find a bathroom.”
“You have to pee?” Drew sounded nervous.
“I think I have diarrhea.”
He reached into the front pocket of his jeans.
“What the hell are you doing?” Incredulity laced Sarge’s words.
Drew pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. He fished through them, then held up a small handcuff key. “We can’t take her to the bathroom in handcuffs. It’ll draw too much attention. We’ve got to get her to a toilet or she’ll shit her pants. I could use the john myself.”
“Oh my god, could you be any more stupid? We’re not taking her anywhere with blood dripping down her face.” Sarge held out his hand. “Give me the goddam keys.”
Ellie moaned. Sarge snatched the keys from Drew, then scooped her legs up and pushed her into the back of the van and slammed the doors. Through the closed doors she could hear Sarge telling Drew that if he didn’t want to get left behind, he’d get in the van. The driver’s door was thrown open and Sarge got behind the wheel, jamming the key into the ignition.
Drew took the passenger seat, slamming his door shut. “I’ve got to use the john, asshole, didn’t I tell you that? And you didn’t get a bag for her to puke in.”
“She’s faking it. We’ve got to do our job or there’ll be hell to pay.”
Sarge was more astute than she’d given him credit for. They set out again, turning onto what she thought must be the highway as the first drops of rain spattered against the windshield. She guessed they were traveling south but couldn’t be entirely sure.
The rain began falling heavier, the drumming sound loud on the roof. There seemed to be fewer stops at intersections, so she guessed they were heading out of town. Eventually they turned, and then turned again. With the mental map she was trying to keep in her head, she thought they might be in the general area of Rock Creek Ranch. A strong wind was blowing the rain in sheets that the wipers struggled to keep up with. A particularly strong gust sent the van swerving.
“Stay on the road, asshole. We go down the embankment and we’ll need a winch to pull us out.” Drew’s tone turned sullen. “I should be driving.”
“I am staying on the road,” Sarge growled. His earlier affability had evaporated.
Maybe twenty minutes later, with the rain beating harder, Drew swore. “There’s flooding up ahead. You crossing that? We get stuck in the mud, we’ll need to get towed out.”
“We’re going to my house, aren’t we? I know what I’m doing. That dip in the road floods a couple times every winter. This van’s got all-wheel drive. We won’t get stuck.”
“If that water’s deep enough, unless you’re driving a tank, we’ll be stuck.”
“We won’t get stuck.” Sarge sounded like he was pushing his words through gritted teeth.
Ellie scooted to the opposite side of the van to lean against the packing blanket. As much as she could with her cuffed hands, she felt along the blanket. Her suspicions were confirmed when her fingers closed around what was probably the barrel of a long gun. She scooted down until she could trace the hard cylinder, then the one next to it. When she sat back again, she was sure she was leaning against at least three rifles, most likely assault-type, rolled in the blanket.
The throbbing pain where she’d been hit on her forehead made her grimace and she had to force herself to think around it. Focus, Ellie. She wouldn’t let fear paralyze her.
Drawing on her training, she tried to clear her mind and formulate a plan. The engine strained as they steadily climbed in elevation. Through the rain-spattered windscreen, she could make out the tips of pine trees silhouetted against the cloudy sky. They must be in the mountains. Paying attention to details could mean the difference between survival and death. She didn’t intend to end up dead.
The road transitioned to an unpaved surface and they bumped along, gravel hitting the underside of the van. After about ten minutes, the road leveled out. Sarge steered around a bend, then applied the brakes, putting the van in park.
“Your place is a dump, as usual.”
Sarge swung out an arm and backhanded Drew. A second later, Sarge had a gun out, eyes narrowed as he sighted down the barrel at Drew.