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  Fast-food wrappers.

  Someone had been here recently.

  Brandon strode over, picked up the bag and sniffed. “Fresh. Burgers and fries.”

  Kim’s heart jumped. “Lucy loves French fries.”

  Brandon’s dark gaze met hers in the weak moonlight pouring through the old house. Somewhere outside a wild animal, maybe a coyote, howled. The wind whistled through the eaves, rattling broken windows and sending a chill through the room.

  Brandon clenched the flashlight and gestured toward a door leading to another room. He held the gun in one hand, braced and ready while Kim pushed open the door, her own weapon clenched, ready to fire to protect him.

  Darkness bathed the living room, but it was so quiet she heard Brandon’s labored breathing. The foul odor grew stronger, and he waved the flashlight across the room, a beam of light illuminating a dead rat in the corner.

  She cringed. An orange-and-green flowered sofa sat lopsided with one of its feet missing, and stuffing pouring out where it appeared birds had picked at it.

  Then the flashlight zoned in on the floor.

  Kim lost her breath as she spotted the dark crimson stain. It was blood. A pool of it.

  And right beside it lay a hair ribbon.

  The yellow ribbon Lucy had been wearing when she’d been abducted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blood…a lot of it.

  Brandon clenched his fist, praying it wasn’t Lucy’s.

  It couldn’t be. She had to be alive.

  Kim’s pained gasp jerked his attention to her, and she stooped to touch the ribbon, but he yanked her hand back. “Don’t. We’ll need forensics to examine it.”

  But she gathered the hair ribbon in her hand anyway, clinging to it. “This is Lucy’s. She was here.”

  A shaky sigh echoed in the air, and he rubbed Kim’s back. “Stay put. I’m going to check the rest of the house.”

  Kim nodded silently, but her gaze remained rooted to the dark stain on the floor.

  “Kim,” he said, helping her stand. “Honey, stay alert. They could have set a trap and be coming back.” Although he doubted it. He had a feeling the kidnappers were roaring away, celebrating their coup.

  His words snapped Kim from her shock. She removed the pistol from the back of her jeans, pressed her back against the wall and faced the doorway as if to watch for trouble. He wielded his gun as he moved through the bottom floor. The two bedrooms were small and practically empty except for a cot in one room with a threadbare blanket and a pillow that smelled like dust and mold. Rat droppings littered the corners and holes in the wooden floor suggested termites had infested the wood.

  Anger surged through him. Had the kidnapper brought Lucy here and made her sleep in this filthy room? Had he hurt her? Or worse…

  No, he couldn’t allow himself to believe that. Surely God wouldn’t let him discover he had a daughter and lose her in the same week?

  Again, he considered the address. It might offer a lead, so he hurried back to the living room. Kim was still frozen in the corner, her face ashen, her hands trembling as she gripped the gun.

  Her cell phone trilled, and she startled, her terrified gaze meeting his.

  He hurried toward her, then took her gun as she snagged the phone. He checked the caller ID with her, but it registered unknown.

  Maybe this was the kidnapper with directions where they could pick up their daughter. He prayed that was the case. But the computerized voice made his blood turn to ice.

  “I warned you to come alone. Now you can forget about ever seeing Lucy.”

  The phone clicked into silence. Brandon groaned and caught Kim as she broke into a sob and sagged into his arms.

  KIM DOUBLED OVER, the pain unbearable. Had the killer punished Lucy to teach her a lesson?

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Kim wailed. “This is my fault, your fault. If he hurt Lucy…”

  Brandon closed his arms around her, his big body offering strength and redemption. But she didn’t deserve redemption, not if she had gotten Lucy killed by disobeying the kidnapper’s instructions.

  “Kim, he’s bluffing,” Brandon said. “Think about it. How did he know I was there? I didn’t show myself until after he opened fire on you.”

  Kim cried out, beating her fists against him. “Maybe he had someone else watching the ranch or he had cameras.” On some level, she realized she sounded irrational, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Brandon stroked her back, soothing her with whispered words, and she clung to him, afraid she’d collapse if he didn’t hold her up.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he murmured. “I have to call Johnny.”

  “Why?” Kim shuddered against him. “Johnny can’t help us now.”

  “We have to regroup,” Brandon said. “Figure out who’s behind this.”

  She pulled back to look up at him although her eyes were so blurred with tears she could barely see his face. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure that out. Before she was kidnapped, no one knew Lucy was your child but me and Johnny. And I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt me.”

  Brandon coaxed her outside to the SUV. The night air shifted around her, steeped with the ugly violence that might have occurred here tonight. She could have sworn she heard her little girl’s cries echoing in the whistling wind.

  “I’ll examine my employee files again,” Brandon said. “If it’s about my money, maybe I missed something.”

  Numb, she hunched in the SUV as Brandon drove away from the deserted house.

  Brandon punched in Johnny’s number as he veered onto the main road. “We made the drop, but someone shot at Kim. I fired back, but the kidnapper escaped.” A pause. “Yes, Kim’s all right, but the kidnapper called and said… Well, he didn’t tell us where Lucy was. He implied we wouldn’t see her again.”

  “God,” Johnny muttered.

  “And, Johnny, there were two of them working as a team. One shot at Kim while the other retrieved the money.”

  Kim stared at her phone, willing it to ring again.

  But she had angered the kidnapper now, and there was no telling what he might do to her little girl.

  “Listen, Johnny, something about this area seemed familiar. I just realized that I looked at it when I was researching land for Brody for the Bucking Bronc Lodge, but decided not to bid on it. The owner was in financial trouble then. I don’t know if he sold it or not, but it’s worth investigating.”

  Another hesitation. “We could use a P.I. to run a background check on the owner. When I get home, I’ll text you the guy’s information.”

  “All right. I’ll call Aiden Hollister.”

  Brandon’s loud sigh punctuated the air. “Maybe this guy was pissed because I didn’t bail him out of financial trouble, so he kidnapped Lucy for the money to save himself.”

  Brandon hung up, then turned to Kim. “It’s a long shot, but it might be a lead.”

  “If that’s the case,” Kim said, grasping to follow his logic, “why would he attack me at the Bucking Bronc? It’s not like you and I have been together for the past few years. Why not just come after you?”

  Brandon shrugged. “He needed leverage. Maybe he followed me to the Bucking Bronc and knew about my investment.”

  “Still, why attack me? Why not abduct your wife?”

  “I don’t know. Because we were divorced, I guess.” Brandon’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Maybe he knew we’d been together in the past? Or hell, maybe somehow he discovered that Lucy was mine. You said only you and Johnny knew. But what about the doctor and hospital staff?” Frustration sharpened his voice. “Did you put my name on Lucy’s birth certificate?”

  She knotted her hands in her lap. “Yes. I…listed you as the father. I…thought if anything ever happened to me, if there were medical issues, it was important.”

  “God, Kim, you don’t have to make excuses,” Brandon said through gritted teeth. “I am her father. I’d be
pissed if you hadn’t listed me.”

  Her mind spun with questions. Had someone been looking for a way to blackmail Brandon and seen that birth certificate and decided it was their ticket to his fortune?

  TENSION THRUMMED through the SUV as Brandon closed the distance to the ranch. Kim had disappeared into a sullen silence that worried him.

  He couldn’t help but blame himself and wondered if she was blaming him, too. Not that he regretted accompanying her tonight. If he hadn’t, Kim might be dead.

  The shooting had been a ploy to distract her while the accomplice confiscated the money. Either that, or someone really wanted her dead.

  But who would want to hurt her? She’d insisted she didn’t have any enemies. No past boyfriends.

  Except for him.

  Which meant the kidnapping had been intended to hurt him.

  “Kim, think back. Was there anyone at the hospital who seemed suspicious?”

  “That was over four years ago, Brandon. It was traumatic, but nothing sticks out. Everyone was there to help deliver Lucy.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Besides, if someone wanted to use her to get to you, why wait four years?”

  Brandon stewed over that question. “You’re right. That doesn’t make sense.” He veered around a curve and passed a slow trucker. “So, maybe the guy who owned this land got desperate and decided to look into my past and see if there was something he could use to blackmail me. He discovered I was divorced, so wrote off kidnapping Marty. Besides, tackling the Canterberry family would have been daunting and garnered major national publicity.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “So, he does some digging. Finds out you and I had a relationship in the past. Learns you had a baby and never married.” His gaze shot to hers, the pieces clicking into place. “He finds a way to sneak a peek at the birth certificate, and hits pay dirt.”

  Kim nodded, her expression grave. “I suppose that’s possible.”

  The Woodstock Wagoneer came into view, and the ramifications of failing slammed into him. When he’d left earlier, he’d expected to be bringing Lucy home tonight. To cuddle her and tuck her into her own bed.

  Kim kept twisting Lucy’s hair ribbon around her fingers as he parked and they went inside.

  “I’m going to find that ranch owner’s name and contact the P.I. to track him down for us,” Brandon said as he flipped on the kitchen light. “And I’ll let the sheriff know our suspicions.”

  Kim nibbled on her bottom lip. “But what if it’s too late?”

  He rubbed her arms. “Don’t give up. There’s still a chance the kidnapper will call. And if he doesn’t…”

  “Then what?” Kim cried.

  “Then I’ll track him down. The Amber alert is out. The story is still airing. We’ll call in the feds to escalate the search.” He injected determination into his voice. “We will find her, Kim. I won’t give up until we do.”

  She nodded, then turned and climbed the steps to the bedroom. Knowing it was going to be a long night, he made a pot of coffee, then carried a mug to his office and began digging through his files.

  When he’d worked with Marty’s father, he had also viewed properties for him, including this one, but Marty had been appalled at the conditions and had convinced him not to purchase it. He’d looked at dozens of properties for himself before buying the first three hundred acres of his ranch; then he’d had to wheel and deal and buy out other neighboring ranchers to expand. But that piece hadn’t fit his needs then either. There had been no water source and too many problems with the soil.

  Then he’d suggested it to Brody for the Bucking Bronc Lodge, but Brody had already found a better property, one more suited to the camps they’d planned and more accessible to town.

  He finally located the man’s name—Herbert Baxter—then tried the phone number listed on the file, but it had been disconnected. A quick Google search led to nothing.

  He phoned Johnny. “The owner of the property was a man named Herbert Baxter. The phone number I have has been disconnected.”

  “I’ll ask Hollister to locate him,” Johnny said.

  Brandon drummed his fingers on the desk. “Thanks.” He hesitated. “I’m worried, Johnny. We found blood at the house. These kidnappers…what if they hurt Lucy? Or worse? What if she’s not alive and we never find her? He could have left her out there in the woods…”

  “Stop it.” Johnny made a low sound in his throat. “We will find her and the party responsible. We won’t give up until we do.”

  Brandon heaved a breath. “I’m going to call the sheriff and fill him in. I want the police to analyze that blood and look for other forensics. If the blood belongs to the kidnapper, maybe we can use it to identify him.”

  “Good thinking,” Johnny said. “When we track down the kidnappers, we want to make sure they rot in jail.”

  Brandon gritted his teeth. They wouldn’t make it to jail. He’d kill the lowlifes first.

  Johnny hung up, and Brandon punched the sheriff’s number. Just as he expected, the sheriff reamed him out for not informing them about the kidnapper’s follow-up call.

  “How the hell are we supposed to help if you don’t keep us informed?” Sheriff McRae bellowed.

  “Listen, Sheriff, we couldn’t risk Lucy’s life,” Brandon said, although he wondered if they’d made a mistake by not calling the police. “The kidnapper was angry enough that I accompanied Kim. If he’d seen you, he would have killed her for sure.”

  The sheriff’s labored sigh followed. “You may have to face the fact that he never intended to give Lucy back. That he planned to kill Kim, leave with the money and never contact you again.”

  “I realize that’s a possibility,” Brandon said. “But I pray you’re wrong.” Perspiration beaded on his forehead. “But that’s one reason I called. I thought you might check the house and barn for evidence.” And look for a body…

  He couldn’t say the words, but the sheriff’s grunt indicated he understood.

  “I’ll send a crime unit out there now,” the sheriff said. “You said the shooter fired at Kim by the barn?”

  “Yeah. I returned fire, but don’t think I hit him.”

  “Still, we’ll look for bullet casings,” Sheriff McRae said. “If the guy’s weapon is in the system for a prior, we might be able to track him down that way. If not, we can use it later to make an ID and prosecute him when we make an arrest.”

  “Thanks,” Brandon said. Although this SOB might not make it to jail.

  “Listen, Woodstock, I’m warning you though. Don’t take the law into your own hands. The last thing your little girl will want is to visit you in jail when she gets home.”

  Brandon clenched his jaw. The sheriff was right. But Kim’s cries and Lucy’s terrified voice echoed in his head, and he didn’t know if he could control his rage if he found the bastard.

  He ended the call, then headed up the stairs to check on Kim.

  Kim stood at the window of her room looking out, the moonlight a soft halo around her.

  He couldn’t stand to see her suffer. Moving on adrenaline and too many pent-up emotions, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him, her body shuddering with silent sobs.

  He soothed her with whispered nothings and stroked her back, pressing her against him, and she clung to him as if she needed him as much as he needed her.

  He had only meant to comfort her, but when she looked up in his eyes, tears glistening on her lashes and hunger flaring, raw and hot in her gaze, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.

  KIM ACHED FROM THE INSIDE OUT. She was terrified she would never see Lucy again. It was selfish for her to accept comfort from Brandon, but he was Lucy’s father, and they had made Lucy together.

  And he was hurting, too. She could see it in his dark sexy eyes, and feel it in the way his big body shook.

  They were Lucy’s parents and they had to cling to each other or they wouldn’t survive.

  His tongue probed her
lips apart, and she succumbed to the need to taste him and pulled him closer, savoring the hungry sound he made in his throat as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues mated and danced together as he threaded his fingers in her hair and angled her head to explore her more deeply.

  She ran her hands over the hard planes of his back, propelled by the need to wrap herself in his masculine strength.

  Brandon had always been strong, protective, a tough guy who took care of others, and she needed him now.

  He needed her, too. She felt it in the intensity of his kiss, in the raw hunger emanating from his hands as he traced one down her back, over the column of her spine, to her hips where he pulled her against his hard length. His heated kiss aroused long-dormant sensations to burst within her, and she whispered his name, a plea for more.

  He tore his mouth from hers and nibbled at the sensitive shell of her earlobe, then trailed kisses down her neck and throat. She leaned her head back in wild abandon, wanting more, and tore at the buttons on his shirt.

  Comfort quickly turned to lust and hunger as they stripped, tossing clothes to the floor in their haste to be closer together. To feel skin against skin, heat against heat, hearts and bodies becoming one.

  Brandon made a guttural sound in his throat and backed her toward the bed, then gently eased her onto the mattress. Kim gripped his face between her hands, savoring the desire flickering in his eyes and remembering the first time they’d made love. She’d been young and naive and inexperienced, but he’d been tender and loving.

  She didn’t want tender now. She wanted his hands and mouth on her, wanted him pumping inside her, wanted him to drive the fear and sadness from her body and make her forget that just for a moment, they were in the midst of a living nightmare.

  Brandon brushed his palm against her stomach, and their eyes locked. For a moment, she felt as if they’d slipped back in time and that he could read her mind. That he saw into her soul and knew that she’d never stopped loving him.

  That he was the only man she ever would or could love.

  Feeling raw and exposed, she lifted one hand and traced a finger down his chest, over his belly, then south to the throbbing heat pressed against her stomach. Her fingers closed over his thick length, and he growled low and deep, then dipped his head and kissed her again.