Jake sat on the gurney in the emergency room of Mercy General Hospital in Denver and watched the nurse inject numbing medication into the bullet wound on his side. He’d filled Buzz in on the story Abby had told him about Jonathan Reed and her suspicions with regard to the deaths of at least two homeless patients.
Buzz hadn’t said much, certainly hadn’t admitted to believing such a far-fetched tale, particularly with consideration to Jake’s source—Abby Nichols. But Jake knew Buzz well enough to recognize the cop’s suspicion in the other man’s eyes. Buzz would help. And he knew if Buzz came upon one ounce of proof, he’d jump on it like a wolf on a rabbit. He’d left Jake at the nurse’s station and begun the uncertain and tedious process of questioning the staff with regard to Abby Nichols, Jonathan Reed and the death of a homeless man named Jim.
“Numb enough for you, Officer Madigan?”
The nurse’s voice jerked him back to the present. Jake looked over at her and forced a smile. “I don’t feel a thing.”
“Good, because you’re going to need about eight stitches.”
Nurse Holly Forbes was in her forties, with pretty brown hair and a reassuring smile. Jake watched her work the curved suture needle for a few minutes before asking, “How long have you worked at Mercy General?”
“Oh, gosh, it’ll be fourteen years next month. Just doesn’t seem possible, you know? Didn’t even have the new wing when I started.”
“Did you know Abby Nichols?”
Her hands faltered for a fraction of a second and she cast him a sidelong look. Jake stared back, trying to read her, and went with his gut. “Off the record,” he said.
She resumed stitching. “I knew her. She was a very nice young woman.”
“Did you know her well?”
“We were friends. Used to take our dinner break together when we worked graveyard shift. Terrible about what happened.” She pulled another stitch, then snipped the end with scissors and began tying it off. “She’s in prison from what I hear.”
“She is.”
“She didn’t seem like the type, you know? Made quite a stir here in the hospital when what she did came out in the trial.”
“Do you think she did it?”
Their gazes met. Jake narrowed his eyes, desperate now to read her. “Are you working on her case?” she asked carefully.
“No. I’m her friend.”
“I suspect she could use a friend.”
He paused, wondering how much to tell her, knowing there wasn’t much time. “I don’t think all the information came out during the trial, do you?”
Her previously steady hands began to tremble. “I wouldn’t know.”
“If you care about what happens to that young woman, you’ll follow your instincts and tell me what you know,” he said.
She finished tying off the last stitch and set the needle and scissors in the stainless-steel tray. “I don’t know what—”
“I’m pretty good at reading people, ma’am, and you have ‘I know more than I’m telling you’ written all over your face.”
“Deputy Madigan—”
“Her life depends on the truth,” he said.
She smiled, uncomfortable. “I don’t know anything for certain. And I told the police everything. But I have my suspicions, but that’s all they are. Suspicions.”
“Suspicions about what?”
“Look, I’ve got three little kids to support and no husband to help me do it. This job is important. I can’t risk—”
“I promise you, this will go no further than this room.” There he went again, making promises he might not be able to keep.
Another nurse came into the room. Holly smiled uncomfortably at the other woman, then looked down at the tray in front of her and unwrapped a sterile gauze bandage. “I can’t discuss this here.”
“Someone’s trying to hurt Abby,” he said. “She doesn’t have much time.”
The nurse closed her eyes and sighed. “The person you need to talk to quit about a year and a half ago.”
“Who?” he pressed.
“Donna Sullivan. She was a nurse here.”
“Why do I need to talk to her?”
“Because she knows more than I do.”
“Where can I find her?”
“She used to live in Littleton. A little efficiency apartment off of Bowles. I don’t know if she’s still there. She never kept in touch.”
Fifteen minutes later, Buzz and Jake were back on the road, heading toward the suburb of Littleton.
“What do you think?” Jake asked, after telling him everything the nurse had told him.
“I think it’s worth talking to her.”
“Yeah.”
“Could be a wild-goose chase.”
“Or maybe someone at Mercy General has a dirty little secret.”
Buzz reached for his cell phone, and dialed a number, and barked to someone at the other end, “I need a background search on Donna Sullivan.” He frowned. “No date of birth. Yeah, I know I’m not a cop anymore.” The frown deepened. “I’m calling in that favor you owe me. Yeah, that one. Tell it to someone who cares. Call me.” After disconnecting, he looked over at Jake and grinned. “Damn, I miss being a cop.”
* * *
It was nearly midnight when the clang of steel doors reverberated down the long, narrow hall of the Chaffee County Jail. Abby was lying on the threadbare cot with the single blanket over her, staring at the wall. Her nerves jangled at the sound of voices. She told herself it wasn’t Jake, that he hadn’t come to see her. That she was a fool for thinking he would show up. But she couldn’t keep the swift rush of hope from jumping through her.
The thought of seeing him again made her heart sing. God, she must look a mess. Her hair was sticking out all over the place. Her eyes felt swollen from crying. Her face was probably ghastly pale. Quickly, she ran her fingers through her hair and pinched her cheeks to give herself some color. Jumping to her feet, she ran over to the bars and strained to see down the hall.
Her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw a female deputy flanked by two men in suits. Abby didn’t recognize the men. They might have been D.O.C., but she couldn’t be sure.
“Nichols, stand back from the door,” the deputy said.
The drill was so ingrained, Abby stepped back. The deputy proceeded to unlock the door while the men in suits regarded her emotionlessly.
“W-what’s happening?” she asked.
The female deputy walked in. “Turn around and give me your wrists.”
Abby’s heart began to race, a cold block of dread forming in her gut. Telling herself not to overreact, that this could very well be legitimate, she took a deep breath. “Please, tell me what this is all about.”
“You’re being transferred back to Buena Vista.”
“But I thought I was scheduled for an arraignment tomorrow morning in Chaffee County.”
“Give me your wrists,” the deputy said.
Ignoring the order, Abby looked at the men. “Can I see some ID?”
One of the men laughed.
“Your hands,” the deputy said. “Now.”
Abby started to step away, but the other woman grasped her arm and turned her around. “Don’t test my patience this morning, Nichols. I’m not in the mood.”
Suddenly, Abby got a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to stay calm, but panic was already scraping up her spine. “Please, just…show me some ID—”
Cursing, the deputy came at her. “Don’t make me use the pepper spray.”
Spinning away from the woman, Abby made a break for the door. One of the men stepped in front of her. She tried to push past him, but he was large and strong and stopped her cold by putting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing hard. “Calm down. We’re just transporting you back to Buena Vista.”
Abby winced. When she turned, she saw that the deputy had pulled the pepper spray from her belt. “Turn around and show me your hands!” she snapped.
“These men aren’t with D.O.C.,” Abby cried. “Please, call the judge. Call Deputy Madigan. Please, they’re going to kill me.”
One of the men looked over at the deputy and shrugged.
“Turn around now!” the deputy warned.
Knowing there was no way to avoid the restraints, Abby turned. Roughly, her hands were pulled behind her and the nylon cuffs secured tightly around her wrists.
“Looks like we’re all set.” One of the men took her arm. “Is there something we need to sign?”
The deputy passed a form to the other man and he scribbled quickly. “Thanks.”
Abby stared at the deputy. “Please,” she said. “Call Deputy Madigan. He’ll explain everything. Please!”
“Let’s go, Nichols.” The hand around her arm tightened and shoved her forward. Abby looked back at the deputy, saw her shaking her head.
Fear and a terrible sense of helplessness moved over her. Oh, God, she thought, no one believes me. She looked at the men on either side of her and the dread in her stomach coiled, growing into something cold and ugly and overwhelming.
“Where are you really taking me?” she demanded as another deputy unlocked a secure door that led to the outer offices.
The man on her left glanced over at the deputy and rolled his eyes. The deputy smiled.
Abby glared at the deputy. “Call Buena Vista,” she shouted. “They’re not expecting me. Please! Call Jake Madigan.”
The deputy shook her head. “Drive careful,” she said to the two men and locked the door behind them.
* * *
Jake knew Donna Sullivan was lying the instant she opened her mouth. Fear for Abby was making him increasingly edgy. His patience had long since gone by the wayside. He listened intently as Sullivan denied knowing anything about Jonathan Reed or the deaths of the two homeless patients when she’d worked the Mercy General ER. When she ran out of things to say, he let the silence build, hoping she was one of those people who couldn’t bear long, uncomfortable silences.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked the small living room, aware that she was watching him, aware that he was making her very nervous. The apartment was small, but comfortably furnished. Framed photographs of two little girls in several stages of childhood adorned the walls. Pretty little girls in pigtails and pink dresses. Another photo of the same two wearing muddy sneakers and ornery grins.
Jake wondered what kind of a woman could love her children so much, yet remain silent about a such heinous crime.
“That’s all I know,” she said after a moment.
“I think you know more than what you’re telling us, Miz Sullivan,” Jake said.
“Excuse me?” She tried to look indignant, but didn’t quite manage. “Look, I’ve told the police everything several times. I don’t see why you need to hear it again. I mean, it happened a year and a half ago. The trial is over and the person responsible is being punished.”
“Are you aware that lying to the police is a crime?”
“Are you accusing me of lying?”
“I’m stating a fact you may or may not be aware of.”
“Look, I’ve told you everything I know,” she repeated. “I saw Abby Nichols in the ER pharmacy that night. An hour later her patient was dead from an overdose of Valium. I testified to that. It’s all I know.”
“That’s not the story we heard,” Jake said.
“Heard from whom?” She narrowed her eyes speculatively. “Look, I know who you are. You’re that search and rescue cop who was on the news earlier. Maybe you’re thinking with a part of your anatomy that isn’t related to your head.”
He stared at her, his temper spiking. If she’d been a man, Jake would have been facing another possible assault charge.
“Let’s go,” said Buzz from across the room.
Jake wasn’t ready to go. “This is a matter of life and death, Ms. Sullivan. Abby Nichols didn’t inject that man with Valium. You know that, and so do I.”
“I know no such thing.”
“If I find out you’re lying to me I’m going to come down on you like a ton of bricks.”
Her face reddened. “Don’t threaten me. I already told the police everything I know. I didn’t do anything wrong. Now get out of my home. Get out before I call the police.”
Buzz tried to take Jake’s arm, but Jake shook him off. He pointed a not-so-steady finger at the woman. “I’ll be back.”
“It’s over,” Buzz said. “Let it go.”
Jake stalked to the door, swung it open, banging it against the wall. He was breathing hard. Desperation stabbed him like a steely knife in his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about Abby, what she must be going through at this very minute.
Oh, God, he couldn’t believe he’d fallen in love with a woman who could very well be facing a capital murder charge. The thought made him feel sick.
In the parking lot, Jake strode over to Buzz’s Bronco, put his hands against the hood and leaned forward. He felt nauseous and out of control. He felt as if he’d reached the end of his rope.
“Cool down, Jake. Just…take it easy, man.”
“I need your phone.”
Sighing, Buzz reached into his pocket and passed him the phone.
Jake dialed the Chaffee County jail from memory. “This is Madigan. I want to talk to Abby Nichols.” He waited, impatient and snarling while he was transferred down to the jail. Once on the line with the jailer, he repeated his request.
“I’m sorry, Deputy Madigan, but you can’t speak to Nichols.”
Jake closed his eyes. He’d known this would happen. He’d expected it, even. But that didn’t make it any easier. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he needed to hear her voice. Needed to make sure she was all right.
“Put her on the damn phone,” he growled. “Now.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because two officers from D.O.C. picked her up for transport fifteen minutes ago.”
Jake didn’t remember shoving the phone at Buzz. The words echoed inside his head like a death knell. Turning away, he strode over to the SUV and slammed his fist into the fender. “Damn!”
“Whoa. Cool it.” Buzz’s voice broke through the veil of terror and frustration. “What happened?”
“They took her,” Jake choked.
“Who?”
He turned toward the older man, his mind racing. “The jailer said they were D.O.C., but I don’t think so.”
“Then, who—” Buzz cut the words short.
Jake saw realization on the other man’s face, felt the tourniquet of fear tighten around his throat. “They’re going to kill her.”
Buzz punched numbers into the phone. “We’re on it.”
“We’re out of time.” Desperation slithered inside Jake. He couldn’t bear to think of someone hurting Abby. It was his fault. He’d done this to her. If anything happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself.
The pain broke him. Guilt wrapped around him, squeezing the breath from him like a chain weighing him down. Vaguely, he heard Buzz speaking into the phone. Heart hammering, Jake stared into the night and tried to decide what to do next.
“Let’s go to Chaffee County,” Buzz said, handing him the phone. “We’ll start there.”
Numb, Jake took the phone and slid behind the wheel of Buzz’s SUV. The other man didn’t argue. Jake started the engine, flipped on the headlights. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. That he was about to make a mistake. But what?
Slowly, he pulled on to the street. A few yards out, he glanced out the window, found himself looking over at the apartment they’d just left. The curtain moved. Donna Sullivan had been watching them. She was the key, he realized. His best hope. His only hope.
Jake slammed his foot down on the brake, sending the SUV into a skid.
“What the hell?”
He ignored the other man’s voice, jammed the gearshift into park, flung open the door.
“What are you going to do?” Buzz demanded.
“You don’t want to know.” Jake hit the ground running. At the apartment door, he didn’t bother with a knock, kicking in the door on the first try.
Donna Sullivan was standing in the center of the living room, a phone in her hand, her eyes as huge as an owl’s. “W-what are you doing?” she squeaked.
Jake reached her in two strides, snatched the phone from her hand. “If I press redial, who am I going to get?”
Her eyes widened even more, her face paling to the color of sour milk. “I-I…”
“Who!” he roared.
“Please, don’t…”
“Who are you afraid of?”
“Get out of my house. Just…get out.”
Jake pressed the redial button.
Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “He threatened to kill my little girls. Please don’t make me talk to you.”
Jake felt the words like a punch to the stomach. He remembered seeing the photos hanging on the wall in her living room. Two pretty little girls. In the back of his mind he wondered what kind of a monster could make such a horrific threat. “I won’t let him hurt you or your daughters,” he said quietly. “But I need a name. I need it right now.”
“He’ll…hurt my kids. He’ll do it. I know him. He’s crazy.”
“I’m going to take him down. Once I do, you’ll never have to worry about him again. But I need your help. I don’t have much time. Please.”
Pressing her hand to her stomach, tears streaming down her cheeks, Donna Sullivan began to talk.
* * *
Abby knew what a trapped animal must feel like. For twenty minutes she struggled against the nylon restraints, trying to wear them thin by twisting and rubbing them against the edge of the bench seat. She worked on the nylon until her arm muscles trembled and her wrists were scraped raw. But her struggles were in vain.
Oh, Jake, where are you?
She’d thought of him a hundred times in the last twenty minutes. She wondered if he was thinking about her. If he’d called the jail and knew she’d been taken. She wondered if he knew she was in danger, if he would come looking for her. The question broke her heart because she didn’t know the answer.
Half an hour into the drive, the van slowed. Sliding across the unpadded bench seat in the rear, she leaned her shoulder against the woven wire of the cage and spoke to the driver. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
She’d watched for landmarks as best she could from the rear of the van. There were no windows, but she caught glimpses of the road and landscape through the front windows. They’d entered the mountains, but they weren’t on the road leading to the prison at Buena Vista. Judging from the lack of communication equipment, she wasn’t even in a Department of Corrections van.
Where were they taking her?
Her question was answered a few minutes later when the van pulled onto an unpaved road. Bumping over ruts and stones the size of softballs, the van began to climb, its headlights slashing through thick pine forest. A few inches of snow covered the ground here, so she knew they’d gained some elevation. A few minutes later the road opened to a large clearing. The driver shut down the engine and both men got out.
Abby was intimately acquainted with fear. In the past year and a half she’d experienced it too many times not to recognize its jagged facets. She’d been cut by each of those facets, had the scars to prove it. Yet when the rear doors of the van swung open and the two men stood looking in at her, the terror was terrible and fresh and consumed her in a single bite. It snaked up her spine and exploded in her brain. Horrible possibilities played through her mind.
They were going to kill her. They hadn’t said the words, but she knew by the way they were looking at her—as if she were a piece of litter they’d found on the street—that they were going to do away with her.
“Get out,” the taller of the two men said.
Abby wasn’t going to make it easy for them. She wasn’t going to give up her life without a fight. When the stocky man reached for her, she leaned back and lashed out with both feet. Her right foot connected solidly with his chin. He cursed. The other man rushed forward, his lips peeled back in a snarl. She fought madly, but before she could scoot back and aim another kick, the second man had her around her ankles and pulled her from the truck.
Abby landed hard on her back in the gravel. The impact knocked the air from her, but she didn’t let that stop her. She twisted away from him, and tried to get to her feet. She’d only made it to her knees when strong hands bit into her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.
Suddenly headlights blinded her. Breathing hard, she squinted, a small part of her brain praying that Jake had somehow found out where they had taken her and come for her. She drew a mental picture of him rushing to her, weapon drawn, flanked by an army of deputies. And while the deputies arrested the men who’d kidnapped her, Jake would take her into his arms, kiss her gently and lovingly and tell her how wrong he’d been, how much he loved her….
The car stopped ten feet away, jerking her from her reverie. She watched, her heart hammering like a piston as a man climbed out. She squinted against the headlights, only able to make out his silhouette. A silhouette that was disturbingly familiar….
“Hello, Abby.”
Her blood ran cold at the sound of Jonathan Reed’s voice.
“Jonathan…my God….”
He stepped into view. Abby gaped at him, stunned. He halted less than a foot away from her, his expression vaguely amused. It had been more than a year since she’d last seen him, but he hadn’t changed. He still had the look of a wealthy doctor, an air of impatience about him. He wore perfectly creased navy slacks. An expensive leather jacket and kid-skin gloves. Cool, intelligent eyes traveled the length of her.
Without speaking he removed one of his gloves. “Ah, prison hasn’t diminished your beauty. It’s good to see you again.”
She cringed when he reached out and gently brushed the hair from her eyes. “What do you want with me?” she asked.
“Abby, Abby, Abby.” He shook his head as if she’d disappointed him. “Why couldn’t you just do your time like a good little girl?”
“The police know you’re behind this.” Her voice shook with each word, but she didn’t care.
“The police?” He arched a brow as if he found the thought amusing. “Oh, you mean that strapping young stud deputy of yours?” He clucked his mouth. “Please, Abby, you really should be more careful about who you…associate with and why.”
She launched a kick at him, but Reed managed to twist aside. The man holding her arms jerked her back. “I see prison life hasn’t done much to rectify that temper of yours. I’ll bet you hate having people telling you what to do twenty-four hours a day.”
“Why the two goons, Reed? Afraid you can’t handle me yourself?”
“You still know how to push those buttons, don’t you?”
“An insecure worm like you has a lot of buttons to choose from.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, but he covered it with a smile. “Still have that smart mouth, too. I always liked that about you.” He removed his other glove one finger at a time. “A man in my position has to have some…shall we say…muscle.”
“You mean someone to do your dirty work.”
“The last transplant operation I performed earned me over two million dollars. That calls for a certain amount of…protection.”
“The police know about your twisted operation. It won’t take them long to come up with some proof. You might be smart, but you’re not that smart. I mean, I figured it out.”
For the first time he looked at her, equal to equal. “You’re going to make killing you very easy.”
“I think they’re all easy for you.”
“Tell me, dear Abby, what is so terribly wrong with what I do? What kind of an impact is an uneducated wino derelict going to have on the world in comparison to a genetic scientist with the IQ of a genius who is a few years from curing heart disease or cancer?”
Abby contemplated him, aghast at what she knew he was going to say next, appalled because she knew he truly believed it.
“Why shouldn’t the derelict sacrifice his miserable life for the good of mankind?” Moving closer to her, he took her chin in his hand. “I don’t use those organs for just anyone. I use them for people who can pay for them. We’re talking millions of dollars, Abby. People who lead productive lives. People who have families and careers. People who will contribute greatly to our society.”
“Nothing gives you the right to play God with people’s lives.”
“I’ve bestowed that right upon myself.”
“I told the cops everything I know. They’re on to your sick scam. Once they get proof, you’re going down.”
A cruel smile twisted his mouth. “By the time the media gets finished with your…cop, everyone in the state of Colorado will know he acted inappropriately with a female convict. Everyone will know he engaged in hot sex with a prisoner while they were snowbound in that cozy cabin.” A cruel laugh rumbled from his chest. “The photographs should help. Well, as long as they edit out the more…graphic details for their more sensitive readership.”
Outrage flashed through her.
“Imagine the headlines. ‘Deputy Beds Convict in Mountain Love Nest.’” He chuckled. “No, I don’t believe your deputy will be a problem.”
“He knows about the black market organs,” she choked. “He knows everything. I told him all of it. And he believed me, Reed.” Emotion wrenched at her with each word. Abby closed her eyes against a hot rush of tears. She didn’t know for sure that Jake had believed any of what she’d told him. But she couldn’t let Reed know that. “He’s going to blow your little scam wide open.”
Serious now, anger flaring in his eyes, he stepped close to her and grasped her chin roughly. “Ah, Abby, you overestimate your charms. I suspect your young stud wasn’t quite as…shall we say…emotionally attached about what happened in that cabin as you are. Some men can be rather calculating when it comes to sex.”
“That’s not the way it was.”
“You’re a convicted felon. You’re nothing more than a smear on the bottom of someone’s shoe. Maybe your stud thought he was doing you a favor. Give the poor little lifer one last thrill since she’s going to be spending the rest of her days in prison.”
Abby tried not to let the words hurt her, but they cut her as surely and deeply as any knife. She knew that wasn’t the way it had been, but the doubt was there. The sharp edge of a blade slashing her with each word.
“He’s going to destroy you,” she said. “He’s going to make sure you spend the rest of your miserable life behind bars.”
“Enough. I’ve grown bored with your dramatics.” Stepping back, he nodded at the men holding her. “Get rid of her.”
Terror burst like a bomb in her chest. For the first time she contemplated her life ending here and now. On this terrible night at the hands of a man she’d once trusted. Oh, God, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? Why had she taunted him when she should have been trying to buy some time for herself?
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “I was in prison. I wasn’t a threat.”
His eyes glinted cruelly as he contemplated her. Stepping forward, he pressed his mouth against hers in a sick imitation of a kiss. Abby endured the contact, closing her eyes against the revulsion rising inside her. When he pulled away, she spat.
Reed smiled. “I’ve experienced your charms firsthand. Let’s just say any man who’s had a taste of you might just fall hard enough to believe you. I didn’t want to take that chance. Even with that country bumpkin cop of yours.” Stepping away from her, he spoke to the two men. “Take her out into deep water, cut through the ice, weight her body and dump her.”
* * *
Jake drove like a madman through the darkness, pushing the SUV to speeds that were dangerous on any highway, let alone a dirt road in the dead of night. All the while Donna Sullivan’s voice rang in his ears.
Reed told me he was going to take care of her. I don’t know what he meant by that, but I can only assume that meant he was going to kill her. The last thing he mentioned was the Antero reservoir….
Jake had dropped Buzz at the Chaffee County jail to work that angle and taken off to find Abby. The Antero reservoir was located off of Route 285, not far from Fairplay. Jake broke every speed limit in the book on the drive west, pushing Buzz’s SUV over one hundred miles an hour on the straight stretches of highway. Now, less than a mile away from the reservoir, he was terrified at what he might find. That he was too late. That Reed hadn’t taken her there to begin with.
That he was wrong about everything and Abby was going to wind up dead because of him.
Fear crawled up and down his spine like a sharply honed spur. If Reed had, indeed, taken her to the reservoir, there was only one reason Jake could think of. Antero reservoir was deep and stayed frozen most of the winter. If someone were to chop a hole in the ice and drop a weighted body into the water, it wouldn’t ever surface….
* * *
Abby tried not to imagine what it would be like to drown in the frigid water of the reservoir, to have her body weighted, the black water closing around her. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought it back. She couldn’t afford to panic. She needed time to think. She needed a plan. A clear head. There had to be something she could do to save herself.
Reed walked away without looking back. She watched him go, aware of the two men standing on either side of her, the nylon cuffs cutting into her wrists. Her heart beat out a wild staccato, fear pumping through her veins with every hard beat.
“Let’s go.”
Vaguely, she was aware of one of the men taking her arm and guiding her toward the frozen shore of the lake. Twenty feet ahead, the other man stepped out onto the ice, an ax in one hand, a coil of rope in the other.
Abby’s mind rebelled against the horror of what would happen next. Things were moving too fast. Her life couldn’t end like this. She had too much to live for. She thought of Jake, of all the things she wanted to say to him, all the things they’d left unfinished. It struck her then that she’d never heard him say he loved her. The need to hear him say the words was an ache in her heart.
Closing her eyes, Abby stifled a sob. She knew he loved her. No man could make love to her the way Jake had and not love her. She’d seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in the gentleness of his touch.
Oh, Jake, where are you?
“How far out we gonna take her?” the stocky man asked.
“About halfway. Ice isn’t too thick yet. Hole ought to be easy to chop out.”
The man yanked on her arm. “Come on. We ain’t got all day.”
Sick with terror, Abby took another step toward the ice. Abruptly, the man holding her arm slipped. His feet went out from under him and he went down hard on his rump.
Hope burst through her. She lunged backward, breaking his grip on her arm. The other man turned, dropped the rope and ax. By the time the ghastly tools hit the ground, she was running all-out and halfway to shore.
She heard a shout. Unable to keep herself from it, she looked over her shoulder. The second man had fallen. Another burst of hope sent her up the steep bank. She looked wildly around, spotted the van thirty feet away and dashed toward it.
“Stop!”
A gunshot snapped through the air. Abby didn’t slow down, didn’t look back. She picked up speed and ran a zigzag pattern, praying she didn’t get shot in the back.
A moment later she reached the van. Hampered by the cuffs, she turned, fumbled with the door handle, jerked open the door. Fueled by terror and anger and the raw will to live, she threw herself onto the seat. She spotted the keys in the ignition, twisted her body and started the engine.
The windshield shattered. Abby screamed, turned her head and saw one of the men running toward her, his gun leveled at her back. “Stop!” he shouted.
Leaning forward, she somehow got her hands on the gearshift and rammed the van into gear. Another gunshot rang out. Dropping sideways onto the seat, Abby stomped down hard on the gas pedal. The truck shot backward, the momentum nearly throwing her to the floor. She hit the gas again. Gravel spewed. She couldn’t see from where she was on the seat, but the driver’s side door was open. The ground blurred past as she put distance between her and the man. If she got lucky, she could get out and run into the woods and get away.
A tree slammed against the open door, ripping it off with the screech of metal against metal. Abby kept her foot on the gas, struggled to a sitting position. An instant later the truck crashed into something solid, stopping it cold. The engine sputtered and died. She looked through the windshield and tried to get her bearings. She’d backed into the dense forest adjacent to the gravel lot.
Suddenly, headlights flashed over her, blinding her. A vehicle moving fast approached. Reed, she thought, and another wave of fear sliced her. Through the open door, she saw a man running toward her. It was difficult to maneuver with her arms cuffed behind her, but she managed to get her fingers on the keys. She turned the ignition. The engine groaned.
“Start!” she cried.
In her peripheral vision she saw a man slide to a stop at the door. He leaned in and reached for her. Screaming, Abby lashed out with her feet. “Get away from me!”
“Easy, honey, it’s me!”
The voice registered slowly. She stopped fighting, turned to look at him, felt her heart turn over in her chest. “Jake?”
He uttered her name. Once. Twice. Then he was reaching for her. Pulling her out of the truck and into his arms. A sob bubbled out of her as his strong arms went around her. His words cut through the terror and despair and filled her with hope. “Easy, honey, I’ve got you.”
Relief made her legs buckle. He caught her just in time to keep her from slinking to the ground. “Sweetheart, are you hurt?”
“Oh, God, Jake, you came. I thought—”
“I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He looked over the hood of the van, toward the reservoir. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Where’s Reed?”
The hairs at her nape stood on end. “I don’t know. He was here….”
“How many of them are there?”
“Three.”
“Okay.” He tugged the radio from his belt. “RMSAR Homer Two, this is Coyote One, do you read me? Over.”
The radio crackled, then a voice answered. “This is Homer. What’s up, Jake?”
“I’m up at the Antero reservoir. Three suspects. Armed and very dangerous. I was wondering if you guys can get Colorosa’s ass out of bed and get him up here. I’ll contact Buzz.”
“Chopper is already en route. Buzz called ten minutes ago. ETA—now.”
“I hope he has the night vis.”
“He’s got it.”
“Over and out.
Looking quickly from side to side, Jake unholstered his sidearm. “Are you sure you’re okay? They didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine. I’m just…really glad you got here when you did.”
As if he wasn’t quite sure he believed her, he ran his hands over her shoulders, down her arms. Abby could feel his hands trembling against her.
“I’m okay. Do you think you could get these cuffs off me?”
The whine of a police siren filled the air as a sheriff’s vehicle sped into the clearing and ground to a sliding halt a few yards away. Jake watched two deputies disembark, then turned back to Abby. Vaguely, she was aware of him reaching into his pocket, of using a knife to cut through the nylon bands around her wrists.
“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” he said.
“They were going to kill me.”
“I know, honey.” He took her hands in his and rubbed the feeling back into her wrists. “You’re cut.”
She looked down at where the nylon had cut into the flesh of her wrists. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I’m so damn sorry.”
She glanced through the broken windshield at the flashing strobes beyond. In the distance, the rat-tat-tat of a chopper’s rotors sliced through the night air.
Jake’s radio crackled as two deputies located Reed and his two goons hiding in an outhouse by the pumping station. He smiled at Abby. “Talk about appropriate setting.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” she asked.
“He’s going to prison for a long, long time.” Jake listened to the deputies’ voices crackle over the radio for a moment, then glanced at Abby. “I got a full confession from Donna Sullivan.”
The meaning behind the words jolted her. “Donna knew?”
“Reed had threatened her children. She’s held this inside her for more than a year because she was afraid he’d murder her two little girls.”
“What a terrible thing to live with.”
“I offered her police protection and promised her immunity if she testifies against him.” He looked beyond the truck where several deputies were tussling on the ground with one of Reed’s thugs. “That will exonerate you.”
The meaning was almost too overwhelming to contemplate. She would have her freedom back. Her career. Her life. The emotion that followed made it difficult to speak. “Oh, Jake…”
“Abby, I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I shouldn’t have turned you over to D.O.C.”
“You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Leaning close, he kissed her once, hard on the mouth. It was a powerful kiss, full of tangled emotions and urgency and the jagged remnants of fear. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I left you,” he said.
“I didn’t know if you’d come. I didn’t even know if you—”
His arms tightened around her, silencing her. Abby looked at him, surprised to see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. She thought he would look away, shamed by the display of emotion, but he met her gaze head-on and let the tears fall unnoticed. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you, that I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I let you down.”
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” she said. “But I need to say it—”
He silenced her with another kiss. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, but one filled with high emotion and unspoken promises. A kiss flavored by the salt of their mingled tears and the burden of all the things they’d left unsaid. “I almost lost you.”
“You didn’t. I’m here. Jake, we’re together.”
“I love you,” he said roughly. “I do. I love you more than the air I breathe, more than my next breath.”
“Oh, well…”
He didn’t pause and the words kept tumbling out of him. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the guts to admit it sooner.”
“You were in a tough position.”
“You were the one in a tough position. I knew you were innocent. I knew it. I just…couldn’t put my past aside. That thing with Elaine and Richie. God, Abby, I almost got you killed.”
“With all due respect, Deputy Madigan, you just saved my life.”
Using the back of his hand to wipe at the tears on his cheeks, he pulled back and scowled at her. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to argue with a cop?”
Abby choked out a laugh. “You love it when I argue with you.”
He smiled at her, but quickly sobered. “Did I mention that I love you?”
“You mentioned it.”
“You didn’t say anything back.” His gaze faltered. “Look, Abby, I screwed this up. I mean, I don’t blame you if—”
“Jake, you were talking a mile a minute and didn’t give me the chance to….”
He looked at her, waiting.
“I love you, too,” she said after a moment.
Closing his eyes briefly, he reached for her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You renewed my faith in love, Abby. You taught me how to trust when I was so cynical I didn’t think I could ever trust anyone ever again.” His jaw flexed as he fought back emotion.
“I think I’ve loved you since that first day up on the mountain,” she said.
Tightening his arms around her, he grinned. “I fell for you right about the time you gave me that black eye.”
“Oh.” She choked out a laugh. “Jeez, that really was an accident.”
“Sure it was.”
He laughed outright. She joined him and their laughter mingled. A musical sound that spoke of life in the face of death, and hope for a future that was as brilliant as a mountain sunrise.
“How do you feel about marrying a cop?” he asked after a moment.
“I’m pretty mouthy. I hear cops hate that. Do you think you can handle it?”
“Honey, I love your mouth.” He kissed her to prove it. “I plan to keep that mouth of yours too busy to do much arguing for the next couple of decades.”
“Same goes, Cowboy Cop.”
“I’m counting on it.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Does that mean you’re going to marry me?”
“That’s an unequivocal yes. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.” He kissed her again, deeply, his mouth trembling against hers. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
Abby leaned close to him, her heart so filled with love she thought it would burst. Their noses touched, and they grinned at each other. “You make me incredibly happy,” she said.
“Honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he said and swept her into his arms.
* * * * *