Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

S TUART HAD BEEN hoping for a break in the case. There had still been no word from the kidnapper since the earlier call and Stuart's demand for proof of life. Nor had he heard back on Holly Jo's father's death from the Billings police force. Area ranchers were still searching old buildings on their property. Still no sign of Holly Jo. With every passing minute, they were losing valuable time as well as losing hope of finding Holly Jo alive.

Was Holly Jo already dead? He had a BOLO out for a white pickup with a red camper that had been seen in the area the night before the kidnapping. So far nothing but dead ends.

He hadn't slept well, the nightmares worse than usual. Even in daylight, he felt the weight of them, making the waiting for some kind of news unbearable. He felt angry, out of sorts, scared, knowing that he needed to keep his mind on the kidnapping case—not sort through the rubbish of his childhood. Lulabelle had hit a nerve, and she'd known it. Trying to prove to him that she had some gift?

He'd been digging through Holden McKenna's past looking for dirt. He hadn't found anything worth kidnapping an innocent girl over and he'd already worked his way through the list Holden had given him. He couldn't shake the feeling that the rancher hadn't been straight with him.

At the McKenna Ranch, he found Holden in his office. "Tell me you aren't holding back on me."

Holden shot to his feet, his face twisted in anger. He didn't look as if he'd gotten much sleep either. "Do you really think I would do something like that? If I knew who was behind this, no matter how bad it was for me, I would have told you the moment I saw those ransom notes. I don't know who has her, let alone what he wants."

Stuart could tell that the waiting was getting to the rancher as well. "If you really don't know, then how are you going to make an announcement?"

Holden wagged his head. "It has to be about Holly Jo's father. You've tried to find out if Bobby had any relatives?"

"I haven't found any. But, Holden, I'm depending on you to keep your cool no matter what we find out."

"All I care about is finding Holly Jo and getting her home safely."

"What about the person who took her?"

The sheriff saw the change in the rancher's expression. "I'll let you handle that."

It was a lie and they both knew it, but Stuart didn't call him on it. They would find Holly Jo, then deal with the kidnapper.

In the meantime, they were all on pins and needles waiting for the proof-of-life photo. Then the clock would start running on Holden making the announcement. Stuart feared the reason the kidnapper hadn't sent it yet was that Holly Jo was no longer alive.

He fought the fear, but if they didn't get the photo soon...

Stuart's cell rang, startling him. He shook his head at Holden's questioning look. Not the kidnapper. Instead, it was the call he'd been waiting for from the Billings Police Department. Stepping outside for privacy, he quickly picked up.

"You inquired about Robert Robinson?" the cop asked. He rattled off Robinson's date of birth—and death.

"He fell from The Rims, right?" the sheriff asked.

"Died on impact when his head struck a boulder, according to the coroner's report. His death was ruled an accident since apparently he'd been alone at the time and his blood alcohol concentration was over the legal limit. At least, he appeared to have been alone, since no one came forward after the accident."

"What about next of kin?" Stuart asked and listened to the man tapping on his computer keys.

"The body was identified by his wife," the cop said. She was apparently pregnant at the time with Holly Jo, according to Holden.

"What about an obit? I couldn't find one."

"Sorry. I don't believe there was one."

Stuart considered that. No obit, no funeral? Odd since he did have a wife and child. "Where was the body taken?"

"Sanderson Funeral Home here in Billings."

H OLLY J O WOKE , her mouth dry, her eyes caked shut. She rubbed at them. She'd been sleeping so much, too much. Her head hurt, and she felt funny. Realization came slowly. They must be putting something in her food or maybe the juice they brought her. With a start, she realized that the juice had always been opened when she got it.

The knowledge made her angry at her kidnappers, but even more angry at herself. Everyone said she was smart. Her mother, her teachers, Holden, Cooper, Pickett and Elaine. Even Duffy had said she was smart, although he seemed surprised that she might be smart.

Well, if she was so smart, how had she not noticed that she was being drugged? Ahh, ding , she thought—because she'd been drugged since the moment her kidnapper had grabbed her. Guiltily she realized that she hadn't minded falling asleep after she drank the juice. What else did she have to do? Staying awake, all she did was worry, fearing that she would never be found or that the man would kill her or worse.

Now she knew that she'd been kidnapped for money.

But even if HH did pay, the man might not let her go. She'd seen the woman. She would recognize her if she ever saw her again. How could he let her go?

She'd lost track of her original thought and had to wind her brain back to the juice and whatever must have been put in it. She wouldn't drink it again. Even when it didn't put her to sleep, it still made her feel weak, her brain foggy, and it was hard to move. She would dump it down the drain in the floor. She hated to do that, though. The juice was the one thing she looked forward to since he brought it with every meal.

But if she wasn't knocked out all the time, she reasoned, maybe she could find a way to escape. She wished Gus was here. He would help her. He thought she was smart. He also said that she was creative and clever and talented.

Maybe Duffy was right. Maybe Gus did have a crush on her. Would Gus miss her now that school was out for the summer? She wondered if she would ever see him again. If she would ever see anyone she knew. She didn't even know how long she'd been in this room.

She'd seen a movie where the abducted man had made marks on the wall so he knew how many days he'd been trapped. When the man brought her food again, she would try to use the plastic spoon to make a mark on the wall. Or dig herself out of this room. She was thinking that neither plan seemed very smart when she heard the man and woman arguing again. Their voices sounded louder than before.

She listened, afraid HH hadn't paid the ransom, afraid of what the man planned to do now.

Then she heard the footfalls. It sounded as if the man and woman were both coming down the hall toward her. Before she could scramble away from the door, she heard the woman cry, "Why do I have to do it? Please. Don't make me hurt her."