regular law enforcement channels. “The governor is a friend. I called in a favor.”
“But you’re not political.”
She didn’t need to justify her position to him. What an irritating man! “Why do you want to know about my job?”
“Motivation,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out who has a grudge against you or your brother. For the past couple of weeks, somebody has been causing a lot of trouble at the ranch.”
“Trouble?” Dylan hadn’t mentioned anything until today when he told her about the stable fire. “Please explain.”
“I read the police reports your brother filed. Uprooted fence posts. Damage to the irrigation system in the hay field. A couple of pieces of stolen equipment.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and peered at her through the dim light. “You didn’t know.”
“These incidents sound like minor mischief. Dylan probably didn’t want to worry me.” Still, he should have kept her informed. It seemed like he didn’t trust her anymore. What was wrong with him? He’d never been secretive. Before today, she’d never heard him fight with Nicole.
“It was more than mischief,” Burke said. “Sounds like deliberate sabotage at the ranch. Have there been any threats on the corporate side?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Of course, we have competitors. And disgruntled former employees. But that kind of hostility usually shows up in the form of a lawsuit.”
She heard the sounds of horsemen approaching and saw the posse riding toward the barn. Slowly, she uncurled her legs and stood, watching. Dylan handed his reins to one of the other ranch hands and strode toward them. With his head down and his face shadowed by the brim of his Stetson, she couldn’t see his expression. But she knew he was troubled. His gait was stiff-legged, not surprising for someone who’d been on horseback for several hours.
He had to be devastated about the kidnapping. No matter how much she wanted to ask him why he hadn’t told her about the sabotage, now wasn’t the right time.
Dylan stepped onto the veranda. He pulled off his leather gloves and his hat, dropping them on a rocking chair. His matted black hair stuck to the sides of his head. His complexion was red and raw from exposure to the cold night air.
“Dylan, I want you to meet Special Agent J. D. Burke.”
The two men faced off as they shook hands. Burke was taller and broader, but Dylan was clearly the aggressor.
“You find my wife,” he said. “I want a search helicopter. First thing in the morning. And bloodhounds. Hell, I want you to call out the National Guard. And I—”
“Dylan,” Carolyn interrupted. “What did you find when you were tracking?”
“They went across the back ridge to a paved road. We lost their track. We’ve been going door-to-door at the nearby ranches. Nobody’s seen anything. Not a damn thing.”
One of Burke’s men pushed open the door. “Carolyn, it’s the phone.”
“The kidnappers,” Dylan said. “I’ll take that call.”
“No,” she said. “You won’t. I’ve been practicing. I know what to say.”
When he started toward the door, Burke stepped in front of him. “Let Carolyn handle this.”
“Like hell I will.”
She slipped inside and ran to answer the phone before Dylan could do anything to stop her.
Chapter Three
Burke would have preferred being inside, listening while Carolyn talked to the kidnappers. But he knew his men would record the conversation. During the next few hours, they’d replay it a hundred times, doing voice analysis and isolating every miniscule background noise.
Right now, it was more important to hold Dylan back. Burke wouldn’t hesitate to kick this cowboy’s ass to keep him from barging in and botching their procedures. He stood in front of Dylan like a brick wall.
“Let me pass.” Dylan seemed dazed, in shock. His pale green eyes—the same color as Carolyn’s—flickered nervously. “I need to be in there.”
Burke didn’t waste time on logical explanations. He doubted Dylan Carlisle could hear anything other than the roar of outrage inside his head. It must be an all-consuming noise, louder than an avalanche.
“We’re staying out here,” Burke said.
“She’s my wife.”
“I understand.” If Burke had allowed himself to become emotionally involved with the people on a case, he would have felt sorry for this guy.
“My wife…” His voice cracked. “I love her.”
Though Burke hadn’t touched him, Dylan staggered backward a few paces. The air deflated from his lungs in a gush of cold vapor. He turned, facing the night sky. His fingers gripped the banister. “We had a fight. Right before she rode off by herself, we argued. I said things. Hurtful things.”
Burke stepped up beside him but didn’t look at him. He stood silently, listening like a priest in a confessional.
“Nicole wants a baby.” The words spilled from Dylan as if he’d been holding everything inside for too long. “We’ve been trying for eight or nine months. But no luck. From the start, we knew she might have to be implanted because she had internal injuries from when she got kicked by a horse a couple of years ago. Kind of an occupational hazard, I guess. She’s a large animal veterinarian.”
Burke heard the pride in his voice. Dylan truly loved his wife.
He continued, “She’s a tiny little thing. But tough. First time I saw her, she stuck her arm into a cow’s birthing canal and pulled a slick, wet, newborn calf into the world.” He shook his head. Something like a sob came through his lips. “You’ve got to love a woman like that.”
That wasn’t Burke’s number one criteria, but he understood. “She was right for you.”
“We were supposed to go to the fertility doctor today. He’d scheduled the implant procedure. But I couldn’t go. Not with the stable fire. I had to be here.”
Actually, he could have called Carolyn. She was more than able to manage the ranch while Dylan was at the doctor with his wife. Burke guessed that something else was going on. Maybe Dylan wasn’t ready for kids.
He continued, “I told her we could do it tomorrow or the next day. Why did it have to happen today? What difference could one day make?”
A big difference. It took less than a day to change someone’s life. Sometimes, less than a minute.
Carolyn pushed open the door and stepped onto the veranda. She trembled. “A million-dollar ransom. He wants it by tomorrow afternoon.”
THE SOUND OF THE KIDNAPPER’S voice
