That's My Baby! (21 page)

“No,” Sebastian said. “No, Matty. Don’t ask that of me, please.”

She stood. “I’m not asking, I’m telling! I want to go. I
will
go.”

“God, Matty, don’t do this.”

“But I—”

“Listen to me, you stubborn, can-do woman.” He took her by the shoulders. “I know all your abilities, and yes, you could be valuable to us, but I can’t risk you, the mother of my child, the person I can’t live without. I will be worthless in this search unless I know that you’re safe.”

She gazed at him, and her throat moved in a swallow. “Okay, I’ll stay,” she said in a low voice. “But know this, Sebastian. My every instinct is screaming at me to go and find Elizabeth. I am going to stay only out of love for you. And you’d damn well better find that baby.”

Sebastian heaved a sigh of relief. “We’ll find her. Nat, you and I can saddle the horses while Matty calls Boone and Travis.”

Nat glanced at him. “I’ll do that, but after Matty calls them, I need to make a call, too.”

“If you’re thinking of getting the sheriff into this now, I vote we don’t waste time with the law. Let’s track this guy down before the trail gets old.”

“I wasn’t thinking of calling the sheriff. I agree with you on that.” Nat thought of the promise he’d made to try to preserve Sebastian’s privacy. Along with his other sins, he’d have to break that promise. “I want to call her father.”

Sebastian regarded him steadily. “Okay.”

Nat knew that no man had ever made a greater personal sacrifice for him than Sebastian was doing at this moment.

Sebastian gestured toward the kitchen. “Go do it now. Matty can use my cell phone to call Travis and Boone. I’ll meet you in the barn.”

Nat gave him a brief nod and started for the kitchen.

“And Nat,” Sebastian called after him.

Nat turned.

“Don’t worry. The four of us can damn well handle one dude from New York,” Sebastian said with the faintest trace of a smile. “No matter how much money he’s got.”

Nat wasn’t thinking of Franklin’s money as he reached for his wallet and pulled out the embossed card he’d kept tucked inside ever since he’d paid a visit to Franklin Hall. What he was about to do to Russell Franklin couldn’t be softened by all the money in the world.

Nat knew exactly how the man would feel—the helpless panic, the blinding rage, the self-blame. Oh, yes. Nat knew exactly how Russell Franklin would feel. It would undoubtedly be the worst moment of the man’s life. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t want to know. Nat understood that, too.

Only two rings sounded before Jessica’s father picked up. “Russell P. Franklin.”

Nat closed his eyes, hating to deliver the blow.

“Hello? Who’s there? Jessica?”

“It’s Nat Grady.”

“Grady! You’ve found her!”

“Yes, I did. And—”

“Fantastic, son! Hold on and let me call Adele on the other line. She’s going to be—”

“There’s more.” Nat’s chest tightened.

“More?” Fear hummed over the wire.

“For the past six months she’s been dodging a stalker. This morning he kidnapped her.”

This was a deadly silence on the other end. Then Russell’s voice roared over the line. “Then what the hell are you doing on the damn phone? Have you called the police? The FBI? Forget that! Tell me where the hell you are! Don’t do a damn thing until I get there!”

A cold calmness settled over Nat. “I’m going after her. My friends and I are heading out on horseback from the Rocking D Ranch in just a few minutes. The ranch is near
a little town in Colorado called Huerfano. You can stop anywhere in town and get directions out here.”

“I’ve never heard of the place! Probably a bunch of hicks, and sure as the world, you’re going to louse this up! Stay put, and I’ll—”

“Huerfano’s not far from Canon City,” Nat said, his tone even. “If you fly into Colorado Springs and rent a car, you can probably get here by tonight. I plan to have her back by then.”

“The hell you say! If you so much as move your little finger before I get there, so help me, Grady, you’ll wish you’d never heard the name Russell P. Franklin!”

“Sorry, Russell.” Nat wasn’t even angry at the man. In his shoes, Nat would have issued the same threats. He could completely understand Russell’s need for control. He had the same need. “We’re going after her. And there’s one other thing. The guy didn’t get only Jessica. He also took her eight-month-old daughter, Elizabeth.”

Russell gasped.

“And yes, in case you’re wondering, she’s my daughter, too. So now you’ll understand why I’m heading out. See you tonight.” He hung up the phone. Nothing else they said to each other mattered. Now it was time to go get Jessica.

Matty came into the kitchen. “I got ahold of both Travis and Boone,” she said. “Everyone’s coming here. The women and little Josh will stay with me while you’re gone.”

Nat nodded. “Good. I’d better get out to the barn and help Sebastian.”

“I’ll pack some food for all of you. No telling how long…well, no telling.”

“Right.” He turned to go out the kitchen door.

“Nat! The back of your head! It’s covered with dried blood. Let me—”

“Forget it, Matty.”

She grabbed his arm. “You might even have a concussion. Let me look at it.”

Gently he pried her fingers away as he gazed down at her. “I don’t have time,” he said. “By the way, Russell Franklin should arrive here sometime tonight. With luck we’ll be back with Jessica and Elizabeth before he gets here.”

“Nat, I think you should let me look at your head.”

“Thanks anyway, Matty.” He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he went out the door.

“P
ATTY-CAKE
,
PATTY-CAKE
,
baker’s man.” Jessica sat cross-legged on a blanket with Elizabeth in her lap not far from the mouth of the small cave where Pruitt had set up camp. She’d finally been able to clean the carrot juice off the baby, and so far Elizabeth hadn’t seemed to notice that Bruce was missing in action.

For Elizabeth, the forest was obviously a wondrous place filled with birds, squirrels and chipmunks. She was excited, curious, and had no idea that the object held by the man sitting on the far side of the clearing had the power to end her days.

While Jessica played with Elizabeth, she glanced around for potential toys to keep the baby amused. Pruitt had ordered her to keep Elizabeth on the blanket so he didn’t have to follow them around and make sure they weren’t trying to run off. He lounged on another folded blanket, his back against a tree, and watched them.

The shadows lengthened and the air was turning cooler. Before long it would be dark. Jessica’s shoulders still burned from the hours Elizabeth had spent on her back in the carrier. They’d reached the camp about midday, but after a too-brief rest for a little food, Pruitt had ordered Jessica to put Elizabeth back in the carrier and climb on the horse again.

Jessica had thought her arms would come out of their sockets, but she’d done as he’d commanded. Then they’d ridden in a different direction until they’d come to a swath
cut through the trees and the first sign of civilization she’d seen so far, a telephone line. Jessica didn’t want to think of what had happened next, but the scene was imprinted on her retina as if she’d stared into the sun too long.

At gunpoint, Pruitt had demanded that she transfer the carrier with Elizabeth in it to him. He’d thanked her, in fact, for suggesting they bring the carrier in the first place. Then, with the baby on his back and a laptop computer strapped around his waist, he’d climbed the telephone pole. While Elizabeth crowed in delight at the adventure, Jessica had stood below and prayed as she’d never prayed in her life.

God had answered her prayers, and Pruitt had come back down without falling or dropping Elizabeth out of the carrier. Then he’d returned the baby for the trip back to camp. All the way back, Jessica had been forced to listen to him brag about how he’d tapped into the telephone cable and sent an e-mail ransom note to her father demanding a huge sum of money be wired to his bank account in the Cayman Islands. The following day, Pruitt had said, they’d repeat the maneuver so that he could get her father’s reply and confirmation of the money transfer.

Jessica had sent up another prayer, this one asking to be rescued before Pruitt made another journey up that pole with her baby perched precariously on his back. So far, that prayer hadn’t been answered. Jessica couldn’t remember ever being so tired and sore, except after her hours of labor with Elizabeth.

Pruitt would have to sleep sometime, Jessica thought. Of course he’d tie her up, but surely he wouldn’t tie Elizabeth, too? The thought made her stomach clench. She couldn’t risk that he’d be inhuman enough to do such a thing. She had to think of a way to disable him before he got sleepy enough to think of tying her and Elizabeth.

“Time for you to earn your keep,” Pruitt said. “Get a
can of stew and the camp stove out of that box over there.” He laughed. “Your turn to cook dinner.”

She gathered Elizabeth in her arms and stood. That answered her question as to whether or not he planned to build a fire to keep them warm. Apparently he’d figured out that a campfire would make it easier for someone to find them. Jessica decided she’d put a couple of layers of clothing on Elizabeth tonight.

“Oh, and make some coffee while you’re at it,” he said.

Holding Elizabeth on one hip, she struggled with the camp stove. If only she could figure out a way to poison his food. Or his coffee.
Wait a minute.
As she continued to set up the stove, she wracked her brain trying to remember her notes from her most recent class on herbal remedies. Part of the class had been devoted to the danger of poisonous plants.

But what were those plants? Mistletoe, for sure. But even if she happened to be lucky enough to see some around here, it would be hanging from a branch, probably impossible for her to get without being noticed. But there was another one that grew on the ground.
Foxglove.
And she knew exactly how she’d look for it.

“I’m having a little trouble working while I’m holding Elizabeth,” she said.

“Too bad. I sure as hell don’t plan to hold her.”

“I wouldn’t want—I mean—
expect
you to. But if I prop her carrier against a tree and tie it to the trunk, I think it can work like a high chair.”

“Go ahead. Just remember, this gun is cocked and pointed at that kid’s head.”

“Yes.” As if she could ever forget. Talking animatedly to Elizabeth, Jessica picked her up and went over to get the carrier and a length of rope Pruitt had left lying on the ground. Looping the rope around her neck, she leaned the carrier against her knees and put Elizabeth inside. “I’m
going to find the perfect spot for you,” she said, picking it up.

“Ba-ba!” Elizabeth chortled, craning her head around to watch what Jessica was doing.

Jessica walked around the campsite and studied the plants growing there while she pretended to be searching out the perfect tree for securing the carrier. She passed one plant twice, not certain it was the right one. Without the flowers it was harder to tell. Finally she decided it had to be foxglove. And it was growing right behind a tree.

“This is the one,” she sang out. “Here we go, Elizabeth.” She positioned the rigid back of the carrier against the trunk. Securing the seat to the tree was a tricky maneuver while Elizabeth jiggled around in it. Once, it nearly tipped over. Jessica made a huge production of it as she kept up a monologue about making sure the rope was secure.

Elizabeth twisted and turned, trying to follow Jessica’s antics, making the process even more difficult. But Jessica noticed that Pruitt seemed to becoming bored with the extended routine, and finally his attention strayed. That’s when she tore a handful of the plant from the ground and stuffed it into her jeans pocket.

“That does it, Elizabeth,” she said, dusting off her hands.

The baby seemed perplexed by her new perch, but her feet touched the ground, which she loved. With a grin, she practiced balancing while Jessica moved the camp stove a little closer so she could talk to Elizabeth while she heated the stew.

The foxglove, she’d decided, would go in the basket with the ground coffee. She could disguise it better that way. Cutting off Pruitt’s view of the coffeepot with her body, she quickly transferred the mangled foxglove to the bottom of the coffee basket and shoveled ground coffee on top. Then she slapped the lid on and put the coffee on to perk.

She’d evaluated everything Pruitt had allowed her access to, in case any of it would work as a weapon. Apparently he’d thought this through himself, because the cookware was all lightweight and he’d packed only spoons, not knives or forks. Unfortunately, everything she considered, even the flame of the Sterno, might only serve to make him mad, not permanently disable him. The foxglove had to work.

She served him the stew first. Then, heart pounding, she poured him a cup of coffee.

“Hand that to me nice and easy,” he said as he reached for it. “I can see the wheels going around, and I’ll bet you’d like to toss that hot coffee all over me. But even hot coffee wouldn’t stop me from shooting that kid.”

“I’m not planning to throw coffee on you,” she said. But it worried her that he’d read her expression so well. She tried to make her mind a blank so nothing in her eyes would warn him not to drink the coffee. “As long as you have that gun, I’m not going to take any foolish chances.”

“Good. I always figured you for a smart woman.”

Here’s hoping I’m smart enough.
“I’m going to feed Elizabeth now, if that’s okay with you.”

“By all means, feed the brat. God knows I don’t want it squalling.” He took a sip of the coffee and grimaced.

Jessica held her breath. If he refused to drink it, that was one thing. If he suspected what she’d done…

“Did anybody ever tell you that you make the worst coffee in the world?” he said. “I can’t imagine how you screwed it up this bad.”

“I…haven’t had much practice.” Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. “I prefer herbal tea.”

“Oh, I’ll just bet you do, Miss Gotrocks. Probably never had to make coffee for a man in your life, have you, Princess? Cook did all that, didn’t she? It’s a wonder you figured out how to heat up the stew.” He held up the tin cup of coffee. “But I’ll drink the damn stuff. I didn’t pack
much coffee, and I need every bit of caffeine I can get. When this is gone, I’m going to supervise the second pot.”

He didn’t suspect!
She tried to keep the triumph out of her voice. “All right.”

He glanced up suspiciously. “That sounded mighty cooperative. How come you’re not telling me to make my own damn coffee?”

She lowered her eyes so he couldn’t see her expression. “Like I said, as long as you have the gun, I’m going to cooperate.”

His eyes narrowed, and his gaze became more calculating. “Is that right? I’ll keep that in mind. It could be a long night.”

Her blood went cold.
Oh, please let that be foxglove I put in his coffee, and please let it be strong.

“D
AMN IT TO HELL
.” Leading his horse, Travis walked around shining his flashlight over the rocky ground. “I’ve lost the trail again.”

Nat fought panic. They’d been out here for hours—his three buddies and both the dogs, Fleafarm and Sadie. And now it was getting too dark to see. Somewhere out in this darkness a lunatic had Jess and Elizabeth.

Sebastian sighed and leaned on his saddle horn while he watched Travis continue to search the area for tracks “I have to say you’ve done better than I thought you would, hotshot, considering your last performance.”

Travis glanced up at him. “This is Lizzie we’re goin’ after, don’t forget.”

“Oh, I’m not likely to forget.”

“Maybe if we spread out a little we can pick up the trail,” Boone suggested.

Nat hated to say what was on his mind, but he figured somebody needed to. He didn’t want to be so pigheaded about this search that he put Jess and Elizabeth in even
greater danger. “Listen, do you think one of us should go back and call the sheriff’s office?”

Sebastian looked around the semicircle of men. “What do you guys think?”

“I’m against it,” Travis said. “I think we’re gonna pick up that trail again, and if the sheriff’s office moves in with a bunch of deputies, and helicopters and god-knows-what, we could have a disaster here.”

Boone rubbed the back of his neck. “The way I’ve always heard it, these kidnappers usually tell you not to bring the cops in on it.”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” Nat said. “But I also figure Jess’s father is probably at the ranch, or will be pretty soon. If one of us goes back, we can find out if Franklin’s received a ransom note yet. And we’ll get his opinion on what he thinks we should do. He is Jessica’s father. And Elizabeth’s grandfather.”

“There’s some sense to that,” Sebastian said slowly. I reckon we all know how we’d feel in his shoes. So, if we decide someone should go back, who goes?”

No one spoke.

“I understand that nobody wants to be the one,” Sebastian said. “But—”

“Oh, hell, Sebastian,” Boone said. “None of us are going back, and we all damn well know it. Ransom note or no ransom note, that baby is out there, not to mention Jessica, and you know as well as I do we wouldn’t trust anybody else to get either one of them back. Not even Jessica’s rich daddy.”

“Yeah, I do know that,” Sebastian said. “But I keep asking myself if we’ve really been following the right set of hoofprints, or if we’ve messed up somewhere and we’re following the trail of a couple of pleasure riders.”

“We’re on the right track,” Nat said.

Sebastian adjusted the tilt of his hat. “I know you want to believe that, buddy, but—”

“We’re on the right track,” Nat said again. “I can feel it.” And that’s what was so frustrating. He could feel Jess and Elizabeth out there ahead of them, somewhere through the dark trees. And yet getting to them was such a slow, painstaking process. He almost felt as if he could find them by letting his instincts take over, but he didn’t quite trust himself that much.

“Let’s fan out, then.” Sebastian glanced around. “Now, where the hell are those dogs? I wonder if we did the right thing, bringing them. They’ve never been trained to track or hunt, so I don’t know what I expected.”

A sharp, shrill bark pierced the twilight. Then another.

“Well, great,” Travis said. “They’ve probably scared themselves up a skunk.”

“Let’s go find out,” Sebastian said as he reined his horse in the direction of the sound.

Nat told himself not to get excited by the dogs’ reaction. Sebastian was right that they weren’t trained for this kind of thing and it might have been pointless to bring them. Fleafarm could drive cattle like nobody’s business, but she was no bloodhound. And Sadie, Matty’s Great Dane, was a great guard dog, but she didn’t know anything about tracking, either.

Nevertheless, Nat kicked his horse into a trot and arrived at the small clearing in the trees where the dogs stood, wagging their tails and looking proud of themselves. Something lay on the ground by their feet.

Nat switched on his flashlight and his stomach churned as the high beam shone on a very grubby-looking sock monkey.

Bruce.

T
HE PLANT
J
ESSICA HAD PUT
into the coffee, whether it was foxglove or not, was having an effect on Pruitt. He’d downed three cups, and Jessica could see that he wasn’t feeling good, although he was trying to keep her from find
ing out. The worse he felt, the sharper his temper. Now every sentence was laced with foul language.

It was nearly dark, and the only light in camp was Pruitt’s small flashlight, which he used intermittently. He hadn’t asked her to make any more coffee, and she suspected that was because his stomach was cramping and he knew he couldn’t hold anything down. She wasn’t sure what the effects of the plant were, or if she’d even given him foxglove in the first place. But she’d done something to him, that was for sure.