Nate Read online

  Nate Ryland and Darcy Burkhart, we have them. Cooperate or you’ll never see your babies again.

  Chapter Two

  Cooperate or you’ll never see your babies again.

  The words raced through Darcy’s head. She wanted to believe this wasn’t really happening, that any second now she would wake up and see her son’s smiling face. But the crumpled letter in Nate Ryland’s hand seemed very real. And so was the fear that bubbled up in her throat.

  “Cooperate?” she repeated. “How?”

  There were a dozen more questions she could have added to those, but Nate didn’t seem to have any more answers than she did. The only thing that appeared certain right now was that two gunmen had taken Nate’s daughter, her son and a preschool employee, and they had driven off in a black van.

  Nate’s breath was gusting as much as hers, and he had a wild look in his metal-gray eyes. Even though his hands were shaking and he had a death grip on his gun, he managed to start his car, and he sped off, heading east, away from the center of town.

  “This is the way the kidnappers went?” Darcy asked, praying that he knew something she didn’t.

  He dropped the letter next to his cell phone. “We have a fifty-fifty chance they did.”

  Oh, God. That wasn’t nearly good enough odds when it came to rescuing Noah. “I should get in my car and go in the opposite direction. That way we can cover both ends of town.”

  “Grayson will do that,” Nate snarled. He aimed a glare at her. “Besides, what good would you do going up against two armed men?”

  “What good could I do?” Darcy practically yelled. “They have my son, and I’ll get him back.” Even though she didn’t have a gun or any training in how to fight off bad guys. Still, she had a mother’s love for her child, and that could overcome anything.

  She hoped.

  “You’ll get yourself killed and maybe the children hurt,” Nate fired back. “I’m not going to let you do that.” And it wasn’t exactly a suggestion.

  He was right, of course. She hated that, but it was true. Even if she managed to find the van, she stood little chance of getting past two armed men, especially since she didn’t want to give them any reason to fire shots. Not with her baby in that vehicle.

  Nate flew past the last of the buildings but then slammed on the brakes. For a moment she thought he’d spotted the van. But no such luck. He was stopping for the dark blue truck that was coming from the opposition direction.

  “My brother Dade,” Nate told her. “He might have some news that’ll help us narrow the search.”

  Good. She was aware that Nate had a slew of brothers, all in law enforcement. And she was also aware that Dade was a deputy sheriff since only two months earlier he’d been involved in the investigation of one of her former clients. A client killed in a shoot-out with Nate.

  The two vehicles screeched to a stop side by side, and both men put down the windows. Darcy ducked down a little so she could see the man in the driver’s seat of the truck.

  Yes, definitely Nate’s brother.

  He had the same midnight-black hair. The same icy eyes. But Dade looked like a rougher version of his brother, who had obviously just come from his job in SAPD. Nate wore jeans but with a crisp gray shirt and black jacket. Dade looked as if he’d just climbed out of the saddle, with his denim shirt and battered Stetson.

  The brothers exchanged glances. Brief ones. But it felt as if a thousand things passed silently between them. “Anything?” Nate asked.

  Dade’s troubled eyes conveyed his answer before he even spoke. “Not yet.”

  “There was a note,” Nate said, handing it through the window to his brother. He immediately started to slap the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel. He was obviously eager to leave and so was Darcy. “Later I need it bagged and checked for prints.”

  Later. After they’d rescued the children. Darcy didn’t want to think beyond that.

  “Once one of the other deputies arrives at the preschool, I’ll be out to help you look,” Dade offered. “Was anyone in the building hurt?”

  Nate shook his head. “It looked like a smash and grab. Entry through the side door. No signs of…blood.”

  Dade returned the nod. “Good. Hang in there. We’ll find these goons, and we’ll find Kimmie.”

  Nate gave Dade one last brief look, maybe to thank him, and he hit the accelerator again. He sped off in the opposite direction of his brother while he fired glances all around. He wasn’t just checking Main Street but all of the side roads and parking lots.

  Silver Creek wasn’t a large town, but there was a solid quarter mile of shops and houses on Main Street. And there were no assurances that the kidnappers would stay on the main road. Most of the side streets wound their way back to the highway, and that terrified her. Because if the kidnappers made it to the highway, it was just a few miles to the interstate.

  “I have to do something,” she mumbled. Darcy couldn’t stop the panic. Nor the fear. It was building like a pressure cooker inside her as Nate sped past each building.

  “You can do something.” Nate’s voice was strained, like the muscles in his face. “You can keep watch for that van and try to figure out why those men did this.”

  That didn’t settle the panic, but it did cause her to freeze. Why had those men done this? Why had they specifically taken Nate’s daughter and her son?

  “You’re a cop,” she blurted out. “This could be connected to something you’ve done. Maybe someone has a grudge because you arrested him.” It was a possible motive. And that caused anger to replace some of the panic. “This could be your fault.”

  It wasn’t reasonable, but by God she wasn’t in a reasonable kind of mood. She wanted her son back.

  Nate kept his attention nailed to the road, but he also scowled. He clearly wasn’t pleased with her accusation. Or with her. But then he always scowled when she was around.

  “If this is my fault, then why did they take your son?” Nate asked.

  She opened her mouth to explain that away, but she couldn’t. Darcy could only sit there and let that sink in. It didn’t sink in well.

  “If I counted right, there were eight toddlers in that play group today. Eight,” he spat out with his teeth semi-clenched. “And they only took ours. They said cooperate or we’d never see our babies again. Our babies,” he emphasized. “So what the devil did you do to bring this down on us? You’re the one who likes to muck around with slime.”

  She shook her head, trying to get out the denial. Yes, she was a defense attorney. She’d even successfully defended the man who’d originally been arrested for masterminding the murder of Nate’s wife. But that was resolved. His wife’s killer was now dead, and so was her former client Charles Brennan.

  But he hadn’t been her only client.

  In the past she had indeed defended people with shady reputations, and in some cases she hadn’t been successful. Maybe one of those less-than-stellar clients was holding a grudge.

  Oh, mercy. Nate was right. This could all be her fault.

  The tears came. She’d been fighting them from the moment she realized something was wrong in the preschool, but she lost that fight now.

  “I need you to keep watch,” Nate growled. “You can’t do that if you’re crying, so dry your eyes and help me look for that van.”

  “But this is my fault.” She tried to choke back a sob but failed at that, too.

  “Stop thinking like a mother for just a second. They took both children so it’s connected to both of us. Not just me. Not just you. Both.”

  Her gaze flew to his, and she met his frosty-metal eyes. The raw emotions of the moment were still there, deep in those shades of gray, but she could also see the cop now. Here was the formidable opponent she’d come up against in the past.

  “The man who killed your wife is dead,” she reminded him. “And so is the person who hired him.”

  “Wesley Dent isn’t in jail,” Nate provided. He took his atten
tion off her and put it back on the road.

  Yes. Wesley Dent was her client. A San Antonio man under investigation for poisoning his wife. Dent had retained her a few days after his wife’s death because he was concerned about the accusatory tone the police were taking with him. She’d accompanied him to several interviews and had successfully argued to put limits on the search warrant that was being issued for his house and vehicles.

  And the lead investigator in the case was none other than Nate.

  Darcy gave that some thought and shook her head. “I don’t think Wesley Dent would do this. I’m not even sure he’s capable of poisoning anyone.”

  “He’s guilty,” Nate said with the complete confidence that only a cop could have.

  Darcy was far from convinced of that, but to the best of her knowledge, Dent was the only thing that connected Nate and her. Still, it didn’t matter at this point if Dent was the one responsible. They needed to find the van.

  Nate’s cell phone rang, and without picking it up, he jabbed the button to answer the call on speaker.

  “It’s Grayson,” the caller said.

  The sheriff, and from what she’d heard, a very capable lawman. Darcy held her breath, praying that he had good news.

  “Anything?” Nate immediately asked.

  “No. But we’re putting everything in place.” He paused just a second. “Dade said you have Ms. Burkhart in the vehicle with you.”

  “Yeah. She jumped in as I was driving away.”

  The sheriff mumbled something she didn’t catch, but it sounded like profanity. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that if you find this van, you should wait for backup. You two shouldn’t try to do this alone.”

  Nate paused, too. “No, we shouldn’t. But if I see that van, nothing is going to stop me. Just make sure you have a noose around the area. I don’t want them getting away.”

  “They won’t. Now, tell me about this note you gave Dade.”

  “It said, ‘Nate Ryland and Darcy Burkhart, we have them. Cooperate or you’ll never see your babies again.’ And yes, I know what that means.” Nate tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “They won’t harm the children because they want them for leverage. I think this is connected to a man named Wesley Dent. Call my captain and have Dent brought in for questioning. Beat the truth out of him if necessary.”

  Darcy knew she should object to that. She believed in the law with her whole heart. But her son’s safety suddenly seemed above the law.

  “I don’t suppose it’d do any good to ask you to come back to the station,” Grayson said. “We have plenty of people out looking for the van.”

  “I’m not coming back. Not until—” Nate’s eyes widened, and she followed his gaze to what had grabbed his attention.

  Oh, mercy. There was a black van on the side street. It was moving but not at a high speed.

  Noah could be in there.

  “I just spotted the possible escape vehicle on Elmore Road,” Nate relayed to his brother. “It’s on the move, and I’m in pursuit.”

  Nate turned his car on what had to be two wheels at most, and with the tires squealing, he maneuvered onto the narrow road. There were houses here, spaced far apart, but thankfully there didn’t seem to be any other traffic. Good thing, too, because Nate floored the accelerator and tore through the normally quiet neighborhood.

  So did the driver of the van.

  He sped up, which meant he had no doubt seen them. Not that she’d expected them to be able to sneak up on the vehicle, but Darcy had hoped they would be able to get closer so she could look inside the windows.

  Nate read off the license-plate number to his brother, who was still on the line, though she could hear the sheriff making other calls. Grayson was assembling backup for Nate. She only prayed they wouldn’t need it, that they could resolve this here and now.

  “Can you try to shoot out the tires or something?” she asked.

  “Not with the kids inside. Too risky.”

  Of course, it was. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly and wouldn’t until she had her baby safely in her arms. “How will we get it to stop?”

  “Grayson will have someone at the other end of this road. Once the guy realizes he can’t escape, he’ll stop.”

  Maybe. And maybe that shoot-out would happen, after all. Darcy tried not to give in to the fear, but she got a double dose of it when the van sped over a hill and disappeared out of sight.

  “Are there side roads?” she asked. She’d never been on Elmore or in this particular part of Silver Creek.

  “Yeah. Side roads and old ranch trails.”

  That didn’t help with the fear, and she held her breath until Nate’s car barreled over the hill. There, about a quarter of a mile in front of them, she could see the van. But not for long. The driver went around a deep curve and disappeared again.

  It seemed to take hours for Nate to reach that same curve, and he was going so fast that he had to grapple with the steering wheel to remain in control. The tires on her side scraped against the gravel shoulder and sent a spray of rocks pelting into the car’s undercarriage. It sounded like gunshots, and that made her terror worse.

  They came out of the curve, only to go right into another one. Nate seemed to realize it was coming because he was already steering in that direction.

  Darcy prayed that it wouldn’t be much longer before Grayson or someone else approached from the other side of the road so they could stop this chase. She didn’t want to risk the van crashing into one of the trees that dotted the sides of the road.

  She could hear the chatter on Nate’s cell, which was still on speaker. People were responding. Everything was in motion, but the truth was Nate and she were the ones who were closest to the van. They were their children’s best bet for rescue.

  “Hold on,” Nate warned as he took another turn. “And put on your seat belt.”

  Her hands were shaking, but she managed to get the belt pulled across her. She was still fumbling with the latch when their car came out of yet another curve followed by a hill.

  The moment they reached the top of the hill, she saw the van.

  And Darcy’s heart went to her knees.

  “Stop!” she yelled.

  Nate was already trying to do just that. He slammed on the brakes. But they were going too fast. And the van was sideways, right in the middle of the road. The vehicle wasn’t moving, and there was no way for Nate to avoid it.

  Darcy screamed.

  Just as they crashed head-on into the black van.

  Chapter Three

  Nate heard the screech of his brakes as the asphalt ripped away at the tires. There was nothing he could do.

  Nothing.

  Except pray and try to brace himself for the impact.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  The car slammed into the van, tossing Darcy and him around like rag dolls. The air bags deployed, slapping into them and sending a cloud of the powdery dust all through the car’s interior.

  It was all over in a split second. The whiplashing impact. The sounds of metal colliding with metal.

  Nate was aware of the pain in his body from having his muscles wrenched around. The mix of talc and cornstarch powder from the air bag robbed him of what little breath he had. But now that he realized he had survived the crash, he had one goal.

  To get to the children.

  Nate prayed they hadn’t been hurt.

  He lifted his head, trying to listen. He didn’t hear anyone crying or anyone moaning in pain. That could be good.

  Or very bad.

  Next to him, Darcy began to punch at the air bag that had pinned her to the seat. He glanced at her, just to make sure she wasn’t seriously injured. She had a few nicks on her face from the air bag, and her shoulder-length dark brown hair was now frosted with the talc mixture, but she was fighting as hard as he was to get out of the vehicle. No doubt to check on her son.

  “When we get out, stay behind me and let me do the talking,”
Nate warned her.

  Though he doubted his warning would do any good. If the kidnappers hadn’t been injured or, better yet, incapacitated, then this was going to get ugly fast.

  Nate got a better grip on his gun and opened his door. Or rather, that’s what he tried to do. The door was jammed, and he had to throw his weight against it to force it open. He got out, his boots sinking into the soggy shoulder of the road, and got a good look at the damage. The front end of his car was a mangled heap, and it had crumpled the side of the van, creating a deep V in the exterior.

  Still no sounds of crying. In fact, there were no sounds at all coming from the van.

  “I’m Lieutenant Nate Ryland,” he called out. “Release the hostages now!”

  He waited, praying that his demand wouldn’t be answered with a hail of bullets. Anything he did right now was a risk and could make it more dangerous for the children, but he couldn’t just stand there. He had to try something to get Kimmie and Noah away from their kidnappers.

  In the distance he could hear a siren from one of the sheriff department’s cruisers. The sound was coming from the opposite direction so that meant Grayson or one of the other deputies would soon be there. But Nate didn’t intend to wait for backup to arrive. His daughter could be hurt inside that van, and he had to check on her.

  Darcy finally managed to fight her way out of the wrecked car, and she hit the ground running. Or rather, limping. However, the limping didn’t stop her. She went straight for the van. Nate would have preferred for her to wait until he’d had time to assess things, but he knew there was no stopping her, not with her son inside.

  “Noah?” she shouted.

  Still no answer.

  That didn’t stop Darcy, either, and she would have thrown open the back doors of the van if Nate hadn’t stepped in front of her and muscled her aside. This could be an ambush with the kidnappers waiting inside to gun them down, but these SOBs obviously wanted Darcy and him for something. Maybe that something meant they would keep them alive.

  “Kimmie?” Nate called out, and he cautiously opened the van doors while he kept his gun aimed and ready.

  It took him a moment to pick through the debris and the caved-in side, but what he saw had him cursing.