“Too bad about your dad.”
“Yeah, man. Tough.”
Derrick joined the boys entering the school after recess. “I talked to him last night. He’ll be back and better than ever.”
“That’s not what they said on TV this morning.”
David pushed into the line beside them. “Yeah, but they don’t know. My mother said they’re just making news.”
“Well, my daddy said neck injuries are the worst kind. Anyway, I’m sorry he got hurt,”
“Me, too,” Butch Kelly added. “I’d be scared to death if it was my dad.”
“It’s not like he’s crippled or anything,” David said. “He just took a hit.”
Janie Thomas squeezed in beside Derrick. “They put your picture on TV, too. My big sister thinks you’re cute.”
“Yeah, David, you’re cute,” Derrick mocked, making his voice sound like a girl.
“You look just like me, you clown. If I’m cute, you are, too.”
David followed Derrick to their lockers. They were side by side because they were assigned in alphabetical order. He shrugged out of his jacket and took off the Dallas Cowboys cap his dad had gotten signed by all his teammates. Derrick had one, too. His was white. David’s was blue. He wore it everywhere he went.
“Are you worried about Daddy?” Derrick asked.
“I am now,” David admitted. “Do you think he might really be hurt too bad to ever play again?”
“I don’t know. I think we should ask Uncle Langston to fly us to Dallas to check on him.”
“Momma said we couldn’t go.”
“She said we couldn’t miss school, but he could fly us up there at noon, and we could be home by bedtime, like he did when he took us to watch Daddy play the Giants back in October.”
David shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe, but I bet Momma’s still going to say no.”
“We ought to call Uncle Langston. He might talk her into it.”
“We’d miss practicing for the pageant.”
“So what?” Derrick scoffed. “How much practice does it take to be a shepherd?”
“I’m the little drummer boy.”
“Big deal. You just follow the music. I say we call him. The worse thing he can do is say no.”
“The office won’t let us use the phone unless it’s an emergency.”
“Our daddy might be hurt bad,” Derrick said. “That’s an emergency.”
“You’re right. Let’s go call Uncle Langston now. Maybe he’ll check us out early, and we won’t have to do math.”
“I like that plan. I hate multiplication. It’s stupid to do all that work when you can just punch it in the calculator and get the answer right away.”
The boys went straight to the office. The good news was that Mrs. Gravits, who worked behind the desk, let them use the phone to call their uncle. The bad news was that Langston wasn’t in.
They left a message with his secretary saying they really needed to fly to Dallas today.
* * *
BECKY DROVE UP to the church ten minutes before the scheduled time for practice to end. Several mothers were already waiting, parked in the back lot nearest the educational building. Her friend Mary Jo McFee waved from her car. Becky waved back.
Normally she would have walked over and spent the ten minutes of waiting time chatting, but she knew that conversation today with anyone would mean answering questions about Nick, and she wasn’t up to that.
As it was, the phone at the big house had rung almost constantly since breakfast, and Matt had wranglers guarding the gate to keep the media vultures off ranch property. A couple of photographers had almost gotten to the house before they were turned back.
Becky leaned back and tried to relax before she faced her energetic sons, who’d no doubt have new questions of their own about their father. Five minutes later, a couple of girls came out of the church. Mary Jo’s daughter was one of them.
A couple of boys came next, and less than a minute later, the rest of the kids came pouring out the door. Some ran to waiting cars; the ones who lived nearby started walking away in small groups.
Two boys climbed on the low retaining wall between the church and the parking lot. A couple of girls pulled books from their book bags and started reading. But there was no sign of David and Derrick.
Becky waited as a steady group of cars arrived to pick up the waiting children. Her cell phone rang just as the last kid left in a black pickup truck.
She checked the ID and decided not to answer when she didn’t recognize the caller. Probably yet another reporter, though she had no idea how they kept getting her cell phone number.
She dropped the phone into the compartment between the front seats, her impatience growing thin. Any other day, her sons would have been the first ones out.
The slight irritation turned to mild apprehension when Rachel Evans, the church’s part-time youth coordinator, stepped out the door and started walking toward the only other car in the parking lot. Rachel was in charge of the practice and never left until all the children had been picked up.
Rachel noticed Becky and changed direction, walking toward her white Mercedes. Becky lowered her window.
“I’m sorry to hear about Nick,” Rachel said. “I guess the boys were too upset to come for practice, not that I blame them.”
Becky’s apprehension swelled. “Weren’t they here?”
“No. Some of the boys said they were flying to Dallas to see their father.”
“There must be some mistake. The boys were supposed to be here. Why did their friends think they were going to Dallas?”
“They said that their uncle Langston had picked them up and was taking them in his private jet. In fact, Eddie Mason said he saw them getting into their uncle’s car.”
Langston would never pick up the boys at school without letting her know, much less fly them to Dallas. But maybe he’d tried to get in touch with her and kept getting a busy signal. Maybe he’d left a message and she hadn’t gotten it. Maybe…
Rachel was staring at her, probably thinking she was a very incompetent mother not to know where her sons were. “I’ll give Langston a call.”
Rachel nodded. “I’m sure you’ll find this is all just some kind of miscommunication. It frequently happens when everyone is stressed.”
Becky nodded as Rachel walked away, no doubt in a hurry to pick up her own toddler daughter from day care. Becky’s pulse rate was climbing steadily as she picked up her phone and punched in Langston’s private number. She’d about given up hope of his answering when she heard his hello.
“Where are you, Langston?”
“In the office. Why? What’s up?”
“It’s the boys. Are they with you?”
“No, why would you think they were?”
“I’m at the church to pick them up from pageant practice, but they’re not here.”
“Maybe they caught a ride home with someone else.”
“No, I just talked to Rachel Evans. She said they never showed up.”
“Maybe they forgot about practice and got on the school bus.”
“If they had, they would have been home before I left to pick them up. Rachel Evans said that some of the boys at practice mentioned that you were flying David and Derrick to Dallas.”
“No. I had a message from David asking me to fly them up there, but I only got it about twenty minutes ago. I was in a meeting all day.”
The apprehension took full hold now, and Becky started shaking so hard she could barely hold on to the phone. “If you didn’t pick them up, who did?”
“Not mother. She’s still here at the office. Did you talk to Bart and Matt—or even Zach?”
“No, but they never pick up the boys unless I ask them to. I’m scared, Langston.”
“Try to stay calm, Becky. I’m sure they’re fine and this is all a harmless mix-up. Call the ranch. See if they’re there.”
“And if they’re not?”
“Then call Zach. Have him meet you at the church, and don’t do anything until he gets there. In the meantime, let me know if you hear anything.”
Hot tears welled in the back of Becky’s eyes, but she willed them to stay there.
Becky called the big house first, just in case the boys had caught a ride back to the ranch. Juanita was the only one there, and just as Becky had feared, the boys weren’t home. She hung up quickly and then punched in Zach’s number. He was a deputy now, he’d know what to do. He didn’t pick up, but she left a frantic message for him to return her call at once.
Her phone rang again, the jangle of it crackling along her frazzled nerves. This time it was Nick. He was the last person she wanted to talk to now. Still, she took the call.
“Becky, it’s Nick,” he said, identifying himself as if she wouldn’t recognize his voice after a decade of marriage. “Where are the boys?”
She heard the panic in his voice and knew he’d heard. “Did Langston call you?”
“I haven’t talked to Langston, but this is very important, Becky. Do you know where the boys are? Are they with you?”
Her blood turned to ice. “What’s going on, Nick?”
“Are the boys with you?” he asked again with new urgency in his voice.
“No. I’m at the church. I came to pick them up after their practice for the Christmas pageant, but they’re not here. They never showed up.”
Nick let loose with a string of muttered curses. “Are you by yourself?”
“Yes, but if you have anything to say, just…”
“I got a phone call a few minutes ago. It was from a man claiming he has the boys with him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. All he said was that he’d call back and that I’d best be ready to deal. I think they’ve been abducted.”
No. Her sons couldn’t be kidnapped. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function. Couldn’t breathe.
“We have to find them, Nick.”
“We will. Just don’t fall apart on me, Becky. We can’t make any mistakes.”
But she was falling apart, more with every agonizing heartbeat. “They’ll be afraid. He might…” God, she couldn’t let her mind go there or she’d never get through this. “We have to get them back at once. If it takes every penny either of us has, I don’t care. I just want David and Derrick back.”
“I’m leaving the hospital now. I’ll meet you at Jack’s Bluff as soon as I can get there.”
“Langston can fly up and get you.”
“I can get a chartered flight even quicker. Now go home and stay there in case the man calls you.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll call Zach.”
“I don’t want the sheriff’s department in on this, Becky. Not them or any other law enforcement agency, at least until after we talk.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Nick. Zach can put out an AMBER Alert and have everyone in the state looking for this madman. And for the record, you don’t get to call all the shots, even if it is your fault they’re missing.”
“Don’t start with the blame, Becky, not now.” His voice broke. He was hurting and probably as scared as she was.
But this was his fault. He was the one in the news, his name and face all over the TV and every newspaper in the state. And it was him the abductor had called for a ransom.
“The caller said that if we go to the cops, he’ll…”
Nick stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished, though the meaning was crystal clear even in Becky’s traumatized mind. Nausea hit with a vengeance. She dropped the phone, stepped out of the car and threw up in the parking lot. Weak and unnerved, she finally leaned against the car and gulped in a steadying breath of brisk air.
She would find out who took the twins, and whatever it took, she’d get them back. And heaven help Nick Ridgely if he got in her way.
* * *
NICK SHIFTED AGAIN, trying to find a way to get comfortable in the four-man helicopter he’d hired to fly him directly to the ranch’s helipad. Pain shot through his neck and shoulders with each vibration, but no matter how bad it got, he wouldn’t go back on the pain meds. He needed his mind perfectly clear to deal with the situation.
Becky had been quick to hurl the blame at him for the twins’ abduction. He couldn’t fault her for that. She’d always been determined to protect David and Derrick from the notoriety his career had brought him. She wanted them to have a normal life with solid values. She wanted them safe from the kind of sick person who had them now.
According to the attending physician who’d protested his leaving the hospital, his career could be over. Strapped with the fears of the moment, even that seemed inconsequential.
The pilot landed the helicopter approximately one hundred yards from the big house. Nick grabbed his quickly packed duffel bag, thanked the pilot and jumped out. He walked quickly, breaking into a jog as he neared the house.
He’d come by helicopter before. Then the boys had been watching, and the minute the chopper landed they’d raced to greet him. Their absence now sucked the breath from his lungs. By the time he reached the house, Bart and Matt were standing on the porch, their faces more drawn than he’d ever seen them.
He hoped Becky had kept this from the police, but he knew she wouldn’t keep it from her family. Nor would he have wanted that. The Collingsworth brothers, the fearsome four as he’d called them when he’d first started dating Becky, were a powerful squad, and he’d be glad to have them on his side.
He put out his hand to shake Matt’s as he stepped on the wide front porch, and then his gaze settled on Becky. She was standing just inside the door, her silhouette backlit by the huge, rustic chandelier that dominated the foyer. She looked far more fragile than the last time he’d seen her, the day she’d told him she was through with being his wife.
He ached to take her in his arms, needed that closeness now more than he’d ever needed it before. Her words of blame shot through his mind, and he held back. Rejection from her might annihilate the tenuous hold he had on his own emotions.
“Glad you made it so quickly,” Matt said, his voice level and his handshake firm, though the drawn look to his face and the jut of his jaw were clear indicators of his apprehension.
Bart clapped Nick’s shoulder. “Have you heard any more from the abductor?”
“Not a word.”
“The family’s waiting inside,” Matt said. “We should join them.”
Nick nodded. Becky had left the door by the time they entered. He followed Bart and Matt into the huge den. The family Collingsworth had gathered en masse—except for Langston’s daughter, Gina, and the ill Jeremiah—filling the comfortable sofas and chairs.
Becky was standing near the hearth, and the heat from the blaze in the fireplace flushed her face. Her arms were pulled tight across her chest as if she were holding herself together. She looked at him questioningly, and his stomach rolled with a million unfamiliar emotions.
“He hasn’t called back,” he said, answering her unspoken question.
She started to shake, and he went to her, steadying her in the crook of his arm until she regrouped and pulled away.
Zach stood. It was the first time Nick had seen him in his khaki deputy’s uniform, and he was struck with the added maturity the attire provided.
Zach propped a booted foot on the hearth. “We need an action plan.”
“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” Bart’s wife, Jaclyn, said. “I’ll get it.”
Langston’s wife, Trish, handed their six-month-old son, Randy, off to his dad. “I’ll help.”
“This is what I’ve pieced together so far,” Zach said. “Eddie Mason said that he saw the boys get into a car right after school let out, apparently when they were walking to the church.”
“Has anyone talked to Eddie?” Langston asked.
“Not yet. At this point I’m following Nick’s instructions to hold off, but I think it’s imperative that we get a description of the car.”
“I agree,” Matt’s wife, Shelly, said. “That information could be critical. So is speed in getting the search under way. That’s one thing I definitely learned while with the CIA.”
Nick’s cell phone rang. The room grew deathly quiet. He checked the caller ID. Unavailable. His hands were clammy as he punched the button to take the call.
“Just listen. No questions.”
His gut hardened to a painful knot. There was no mistaking the abductor’s voice.