Читать книгу Stockyard Snatching - Barb Han - Страница 7

Chapter One

It was a bitterly cold early October morning. The temperature gauge on Dallas O’Brien’s dashboard read 17 degrees, beneath a gray sky thick with clouds.

As it turned out, the Lone Star State had a temper and its tantrums came in the form of cold snaps that made him miss having a winter beard. Dallas hated cold.

Yesterday, the sun had been out and he had been in short sleeves. Texas weather—like life—could turn on a dime.

Another frigid breeze blasted through Dallas, piercing his coat as he slid out of the driver’s seat and then closed the door of his pickup. He flipped up the corners of his collar. Since there was no traffic, he’d made it to the supply store in record time. Normally the place would be open, but Jessie had been running late ever since his wife gave birth to twins early last month.

A car tooled around the back of the building and across the parking lot. Was that Kate Williams, the proud owner of the soup kitchen, The Food Project? Dallas hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet, with everything going on at the ranch after his parents’ deaths.

A female came out of the driver’s side, rounded the car and moved to the rear passenger door. From this distance, Dallas estimated she wasn’t an inch more than five and a half feet tall. He couldn’t see much of her figure through her thick, buttoned-to-the-collar, navy blue peacoat. Her cable-knit scarf looked more like an afghan wrapped around her neck. He suppressed a laugh. Apparently, she didn’t do cold any better than Dallas.

From what little he could see of her legs, she had on blue jeans. Furry brown boots rose above her calves. She wore expensive clothing for someone who owned a soup kitchen. And apparently—Dallas glanced at his watch—that process began at five thirty in the morning.

This had to be her, he reasoned, as she pulled a baby out of the backseat, bundled from head to toe in what looked like a fitted blue quilt. Blue.

A boy?

Didn’t that twist up Dallas’s insides?

First, his ex Susan Hanover had dropped the bomb that he was going to be a father. Then she’d pulled a disappearing act. And even the best private investigator money could buy hadn’t been able to locate her or the baby since.

Knowing Susan, she’d been lying to trap him into a wedding ring. Dallas’s finger itched thinking about it.

With her and the baby gone, all he had left were questions—questions that kept him tossing and turning most nights.

What if she’d been lying? What if she hadn’t? What if Dallas had a child out there somewhere? What if his child needed him?

Dallas would never be able to rest until he had answers.

Walking away from a child wasn’t something an O’Brien could ever do. Dallas had already lost his parents, and family meant everything to him.

As Ms. Williams closed the door to her vehicle, shivering in the cold, a male figure emerged from around the side of her building. The guy had on a hoodie and his face was angled toward the ground. His clothes were dirty, dark and layered. He was either homeless or trying to look the part.

The guy glanced around nervously as he approached Ms. Williams.

Didn’t that get Dallas’s radar jacked up to full alert? He strained to get a better view. Come on. Look up.

All this guy would have to do would be ask Ms. Williams a question to distract her—say, what time the place opened. She would answer; he would rob her and then run. There were plenty of places to disappear downtown or in the neighborhood near the stockyard.

It would be a perfect crime, because not only was she holding a baby, but her thick clothing would weigh her down, making it impossible for her to catch him.

Well, a perfect crime if Dallas wasn’t right there watching.

Then again, this really could be a man in need of a meal. Experience had taught Dallas not to jump the gun when it came to people. There was no shortage of homeless, even in a small town like Bluff, Texas.

The times he had driven by this location early in the morning and found the line of needy individuals stretched around the block were too many to count. He was pretty certain Ms. Williams’s neighbors on Main Street didn’t appreciate her clientele. None of them would be wandering through the stores after a meal to buy handmade jewelry or quaint Texas souvenirs. These businesses were important to the local economy.

Just then, the hooded figure lifted his head and made a grab for the baby.

This wasn’t a robbery; it was a kidnapping.

Dallas spewed curse words as he ran full throttle toward them. “Stop right there!” he shouted.

Ms. Williams fought back and her attacker shifted position, ensuring she was between him and Dallas.

The baby cried, which seemed to agitate the attacker. Ms. Williams kicked the guy where no man wanted the tip of a boot. He coughed, then cursed as he seemed to catch sight of Dallas out of the corner of his eye.

The man shouted as he struggled to take the baby out of Ms. Williams’s arms. “Don’t come any closer!” His voice was agitated and Dallas didn’t recognize it. Must not be someone local. The guy forced the woman back a few steps with him, a knife to her throat. “I didn’t want to do it like this, but now she’s coming with me.”

The baby wailed and Dallas came to a stop.

This situation had gone sour in a heartbeat.

To make matters worse, all Dallas could see clearly of Ms. Williams was a set of terrified blue eyes staring at him. She had that desperate-mother look that said she’d do anything to save her son. Dallas’s heart squeezed as she held tight to her baby with the determination only a loving mom could possess.

He hoped like hell she wouldn’t do anything stupid.

Tires squealed from behind the building and Dallas instantly wished it would be his best friend, Sheriff Tommy Johnson. No way would Tommy be dumb enough to come roaring up, however. His friend was smarter than that and a better lawman.

A vehicle rounded the corner and lurched to a stop nearby. The white minivan’s sliding door opened.

The attacker broke eye contact to look. If Dallas had a shot at taking the guy down, he’d grab it.

“Toss your keys to me,” the kidnapper shouted to him.

Dallas dug a set from his pocket and pitched them forward.

If he didn’t make a move soon, this jerk would disappear into that van with mother and baby. She’d most likely be killed and her body dumped before they left the county. Dallas had read about vicious illegal adoption rings in the area and stories of mothers being killed for their infants.

Between the hoodie pulled over the thug’s forehead and the turtleneck covering his jaw, Dallas couldn’t get a good look at his face. The guy glanced away again, as if calculating the odds of getting inside the vehicle before Dallas could catch him. Then he bent to grab the keys.

It was now or never.

Dallas lunged toward his target and knocked the guy’s arm away from Kate’s throat. The sheer amount of fabric she had wrapped around her neck made certain the blade wouldn’t get anywhere near her skin. For the first time in his life, Dallas thanked the cold weather.

Breaking free, Ms. Williams bolted toward her car, while trying to soothe the crying infant.

In the bustle, the attacker broke out of Dallas’s grip and darted toward the vehicle. Damn. No plates.

“The sheriff is on his way,” Dallas said in desperation, knowing full well his target was about to hop into that van and disappear.

Just as expected, the guy hurled himself in the open door and, without waiting for it to close, shouted at the driver to go. On cue, the van swerved, then sped away.

Dallas muttered a curse. Pulling out his cell, he told Ms. Williams to stay put. Even though his pickup wasn’t far, he couldn’t leave her to give chase. No way would he risk this guy circling back or sending others to finish the job. Dallas would have to stay with her to ensure her safety.

At least this morning wasn’t a total bust. The baby was safe in his mother’s arms. Dallas could call his friend the sheriff, who would track down the minivan while Dallas guarded Ms. Williams.

“Where are you?” he asked as soon as Tommy picked up.

“A couple of blocks from Main Street,” the lawman replied. “Why? You okay?”

“I’m in the back parking lot of the soup kitchen and a man just tried to abduct Ms. Williams’s baby. There’s a white Mazda minivan heading in your direction. He hopped inside it before I could get to him. No tags in front,” Dallas reported, noticing for the first time that he was practically panting from adrenaline. He took a deep breath and then finished relaying the details of what had just gone down.

“Is there a high point you can get to for a visual on the minivan?” Tommy asked.

Dallas kept an eye on Ms. Williams as he climbed on top of the closed Dumpster to see if he could spot the vehicle. She had managed to settle the baby. Dallas was certain her hands would be shaking from her own adrenaline, and he was grateful for the few extra minutes he’d get while she fumbled with securing her son in the car seat. The panicked look on her face said she’d get as far away as possible the second she could.

“No. I don’t see him,” Dallas said.

“I’m on Main now. A couple of blocks from your location, but I don’t see anyone on the street.” Tommy asked Dallas to stand by while he gave his deputies a description of the vehicle. “I’m sending someone over to you just in case the guy is on his way back or sends someone else.”

“Call me back when you know anything. I have to check on Ms. Williams and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid,” Dallas said, knowing full well that her eyes would haunt him if he didn’t ensure she was okay. It would be a long time before he shook off the image of those frightened sky blues, and he had to admit to being a little interested to see what the rest of her face looked like. He told himself it was protective instinct mixed with curiosity and nothing more.

Besides, she’d been as blindsided by all this as he had. He hopped down and jogged toward her sedan. “Ma’am.”

She spun around with a gasp. “Kate. It’s Kate.”

He brought his hand up, palm out, to help communicate the idea that he wasn’t there to hurt her.

“I’m Dallas O’Brien.” He offered a handshake. She was most likely still in shock, and from the look of her wild eyes, she was in full get-the-heck-out-of-Dodge mode. “The sheriff is sending someone over to talk to us.”

She stood there, frozen, for several seconds, as if her mind might be clicking through options. She didn’t seem to realize there was only one: talk to Dallas.

“Do you know who that was?” he asked, figuring he already knew the answer. But he wanted to get her talking.

“No. I’ve never seen him before in my life.” Her breath was visible in the cold air as she spoke, and even though she had on a thick layer of clothes, she was shivering. That, too, was most likely caused by residual adrenaline.

“First of all, I want to make sure you and your baby are safe. Can we go inside the building?” Dallas’s own adrenaline surge was wearing off and he was starting to feel the biting wind again. He’d stay with her until law enforcement arrived and then he’d get supplies and head back to the ranch.

“Okay. Yes. Sure. I was going in anyway before—” She stopped midsentence, as if she couldn’t bring herself to finish.

Then another round of panic seemed to set in.

“No. Never mind. We have to go somewhere else,” she insisted, her gaze darting from left to right.

“He’s gone. They won’t be back, especially not while I’m here,” Dallas stated.

“You can’t know that for certain,” she said quickly.

“Kate, I can assure you—”

“No. You can’t. We can talk, but we have to do it somewhere else.” She glanced about, her terror and desperation mounting.

Dallas’s cell phone buzzed. He fished it from his coat pocket and checked the screen. “This call is from the sheriff. I need to answer.”

She nodded.

“Give me some good news,” Dallas said into the phone.

“Wish I could. Seems your white Mazda minivan is just as slippery as your suspect. There’s no sign of either anywhere. We have no plans to give up searching. You’ll be the first to know when we locate him,” Tommy said with a frustrated sigh.

Dallas thanked his friend for the update and then ended the call, cursing under his breath.

An expectant victim stared at him, needing reassurance.

He shook his head.

“I have to get out of here before they come back,” she said, making a move toward the driver’s side of her sedan.

“Hold on,” Dallas cautioned. “What makes you so sure he’ll try again?”