Microsoft Word - DeadHeat_wrp356.doc (28 page)

hopeful he’s our man, or at least he'll be able to lead us to

whoever is.”

“The FBI come up with a motive?”

“The Bureau's been operating under the assumption

it’s all mob related, but I’m starting to think it’s more

than that. Got any opinions?”

“Huh?” Rye looked blankly at Brett. “Sorry. I didn’t

hear you.”

“Christ. I can’t believe a woman has you tied in knots

like this.”

“Maybe someday you’ll understand, but I wouldn’t

wish this infliction on anyone.”

“She'll come around. Don’t worry so much.”

Rye poured himself another shot. “Don’t count on it.”

Brett chuckled. “You’re worried about Guy

Anderson.”

Rye rolled his eyes. “Man, are you blind? Guy isn’t

interested in Jenna. He couldn’t take his eyes off Dani.”

“Dani?”

Rye's eyes narrowed at Brett’s reaction. “You’re so

busy fighting with Dani that you can’t see what’s in front

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of you. Guy Anderson is hot for Dani. So much so that he

wants her to ride his horse in the stakes race this

weekend.”

“I thought she was a good jockey. Maybe that's why

he's giving her the mount.”

“She is, but the purse in this race warrants a well-

proven jockey, not one just beginning a career. The man

wants her.”

“Good luck to him. She’s a shrew.”

Rye hid a smile at the worried look on Brett's face.

So, the ice man showed sensitivity to a certain type of

heat. Interesting.

“I’m going back to bed. I suggest you do the same.

You won’t be much use tomorrow with a hangover.”

Brett was half way to the door when the phone rang.

“Who the hell could be calling at this hour?” Rye

didn’t like late night phone calls. They were seldom good

news.

“Yes?” he barked.

“Rye?” A woman’s faint voice asked.

Rye’s heart flipped. “Dani? What’s wrong?”

Brett hurried to stand beside Rye. Rye put the phone

between them.

“It’s Jenna...she’s gone.”

Puzzled, Rye asked, “Gone? Gone where?”

“Someone took her.”

Rye stiffened, his hand gripping the phone tight

enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Rye? Are you there?”

Brett took the phone. “Dani? It’s Brett. Take a deep

breath and tell me what happened.”

“She went to bed on the couch. I heard noises. At first

I thought she was moving furniture. I jumped out of bed

and ran to the living room. The outside door was wide

open, and I saw the tail lights of a car as it drove away.”

“Any chance someone stopped by and picked her up?

That she went with someone willingly?”

“Of course not. There’s no one she’d go off with. She'd

gone to bed.”

Rye grabbed the phone. “Who took her, Dani?”

“I don’t know.” A sob shook her voice. “It was dark. I

think the car was white, but I’m...I’m just not sure. I’ve

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got to go, the police are here.”

“What’s your address?”

“24 Lancaster Road, Lot 3A. It’s across town—”

“I know where it is.” Rye slammed the phone back in

the receiver. His heart pounded hard, almost deafening

him. “Shit. Let’s get over there.”

“I’m ready.”

Rye ran to the front door with no regard for Brett,

who dogged his heels while talking on his cell. A murderer

had Jenna. He should have dragged her kicking and

screaming back to the farm.

The need for revenge swelled in Rye’s chest. He’d kill

whoever had taken her. Kill the bastard with his bare

hands.

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Jenna struggled to open her eyes. Only one

cooperated. The left one remained closed. Reality was the

throbbing in her face and jaw. Her teeth ached as if she

had the flu. She was laying on her right side, and she

pushed herself up, using her hand for leverage. Wham!

Her head hit hard metal. What the hell? She eased down,

and realized her knees were bent nearly up under her

chin. She had no room to stretch her legs or to turn onto

her back. Is this what being in a casket felt like?

She sucked in her breath and concentrated — tried to

relax, ignore the pain and force her memory. A vision of a

man creeping in the shadows of a darkened room flickered

briefly, only to disappear before she could grasp a firm

hold.

The fiery pain on the left side of her face triggered

total recall. Someone had punched her. Like a needle

stuck in a groove of an old vinyl record, the scene played

over and over. Flashes of memory grew brighter, until she

remembered. She’d been abducted from Dani’s living

room.

With the return of her memory came awareness of

her surroundings. Her body lay on a rock-hard surface

covered by a thin industrial carpet. An engine droned

somewhere beneath her, and vibrations tickled her body,

especially her thigh. Could she be stuffed in a box in the

back of a pickup? That would explain the small space. Or

on the floor of a car? No. The space was too confining and

too dark for the backseat of a car.

She walked her fingertips along the rough carpet and

found a big piece of metal or iron. Like a blind person, she

traced and retraced every nook and cranny of the object.

Jesus. It was a car jack. She’d been stashed in the trunk

of someone's car. No wonder her body was twisted around

like a pretzel. The vibration buzzing against her thigh

grew stronger.

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Relax, Jenna. You’ve read something about this
. Yes.

She remembered. Kick out the taillights to attract the

cops. Right. Difficult to accomplish when she couldn't

move into the right position and barefoot to boot. Dani

might be able to accomplish such a feat, but at five foot

eight inches, Jenna didn't have a shot at success. At least

her hands were free. If she could just unscrew the jack.

Then she'd at least have a weapon when the trunk

opened. After a few minutes, she gave up. Impossible to

maneuver into a position to get at it.

Exhaust leaked into the trunk and sprouted new

fears. She'd be asphyxiated. Was that the plan her captors

had in mind?

The buzzing against her thigh abruptly stopped.

She’d assumed it was from the car's engine. Hope swelled

in her chest. She still had her cell phone. She'd turned off

the ring when Rye called her at Dani's. She must have set

it to vibrate. Someone had been calling her! They knew

she was missing!

Jenna twisted a millimeter at a time until she

managed to squeeze her hand into her jean pocket and

pull out the cell. She flicked it on and hit the button to

return the missed call. It didn't matter who had called

her. She needed help.

“Jenna? God! Where are you?” Hope surged when

Rye's frantic voice answered.

“You need to help me,” she whispered, afraid of being

overheard by whatever monster drove the car.

“I can barely hear you. Are you hurt? What's that

humming noise?”

She spoke louder. “I'm in a car trunk. I don't know

where. The car's moving.”

“Jesus.”

Brett's voice in the background demanded the phone.

“Jenna? It's Brett. Listen to me. Find a place to hide

your cell. Leave it on. A satellite will pick up your

location. We'll find you.”

The car slowed down to a crawl. Her mouth turned

dry. “The car's stopping. No, it just turned right.”

The car bumped, jarring Jenna's teeth. And again.

Had to be potholes. “We must be on a dirt road. I'm being

jostled.”

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Dead Heat

“Is there somewhere to tuck the phone where it won't

be found?”

Rye swore in the background. She'd never heard him

so rattled.

“I can barely move in here.” She explored the floor of

the trunk with her free hand for the second time. Behind

the jack was her only choice. Would that be good enough?

What if the car had a flat?
No don't think that way. Be

positive.

“Brett? I'm wedging it behind the tire jack.”

“Good. I'm disconnecting now so I can get this plan in

gear.”

Her body thumped to the left as the car made

another right hand turn. Onto another dirt road. They

couldn't be moving more than twenty miles-per-hour.

When the car slowed even more, fear such as she'd

never known crawled over Jenna's skin. Chances were

good that she was about to be murdered. Injected with

Ketamine. Would she simply fall asleep? Or have

convulsions first?

The car jolted to a sudden stop, knocking her head

against the back of the trunk. She wasn't sure what

pounded harder, her head or her heart. She double-

checked that the phone couldn't be seen when someone

popped the lid.

Jenna flinched as the car door slammed. The engine

still idled. She held her breath, expecting the trunk to fly

open. Footsteps moved away from the car, crunching in

what sounded like gravel. She exhaled. Nearby, a door

creaked. Then silence. Did her kidnapper plan to leave

her in the trunk?

What were Brett and Rye doing now? How long

would it take them to find her? Jenna's fingers searched

for something to hold onto for comfort. A habit she'd had

since she was a child. They settled for the hem end of her

T-shirt.

The only prayer that came to mind was a child's

prayer.
Now I Lay Me Down To Slee...
That made her feel

worse. Sounded like she had given up and waited to die.

The instinct to survive demanded she fight. If only she

could move. The muscles in her legs would atrophy

temporarily if they stayed crammed under her chin much

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longer.

The exhaust fumes got stronger. She buried her nose

and mouth under the neck of her T-shirt. Better than

nothing, but not enough to save her.

The same door creaked again. Crunch. Crunch.

Footsteps came closer. A quiet panic settled over her. She

braced herself at the sound of a key being inserted in the

lock. The trunk opened slowly, not the fast pop she'd

imagined. She pushed herself into a kneeling position,

ignoring the pain in her leg muscles. Her good eye

strained to see her captor.

“Hello, Jenna.” The voice was chillingly familiar.

She stared hard at the devil standing there, an evil

grin on his face. “You bastard!”

****

Brett stood by the door, his cell to one ear. “Sit down

before you wear a hole in the floor. You're acting

squirrelly — sort of like a Jack Russell Terrier. It's

irritating.”

“Got a cigarette, Dani?” Rye practically snarled at

woman.

“No. I don't smoke.”

“Fuck.” Rye sank onto the sofa and fingered the

comforter Jenna had laid under earlier that evening.

Dani shifted from foot to foot. “I'm sorry, Rye. I

should have suggested Jenna sleep in my room with me. I

just didn't think...”

“No one blames you, Dani. Who could have known

some maniac would break in and kidnap her?”

“If anyone's to blame, it's me,” Brett said.

Rye's head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“The threats had been made. I shouldn't have let her

out of my sight. I didn't think the perp would be bold

enough to kidnap her out of bed. I made a mistake.”

Rye rubbed his forehead. He wanted to assure Brett

that he wasn't at fault, but the words wouldn’t come. They

were both guilty of not sticking by Jenna. “Got any coffee,

Dani?”

“That I do have.” Rye watched her hurry to make

coffee as if glad to have a mission. Rye rose and walked to

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Brett. “What do we do now? Sit here like fools?”

Brett glared at him. “Got a better suggestion? I've got

agents working the angles. I've moved up the search on

Casey's room.” He glanced at his watch. “Agents should be

there now.”

Rye took the mug Dani handed him and sank back on

the couch. “Thanks.”

Dani hovered at his side. “Is there anything I can

do?” Rye attempted a smile. “Pray?”

“What about Guy Anderson?” Dani suggested. “He

followed us home so he knew where we lived.”

Rye attempted a smile. “If Anderson kidnapped

anyone, it’d be you. You blind or what? The man's

interested in you.”

Dani blushed and busied herself with folding the

comforter on the couch.

Brett muttered something unintelligible and stalked

outside the trailer.

Dani jumped at the slam of the door.

“Where's he going?”

“Who the hell knows?” Rye replied with a tired sigh.

“Might be none of my business, Rye,” she began

tentatively, “so feel free to tell me to shut up. Seems to me

you care about Jenna more than you're willing to admit.”

Rye tensed. “You're right. It's none of your...” He

broke off and rose in one fluid motion to wander restlessly

around the room before giving Dani his full attention. “I'm

in love with her.”