Chapter 36

36

T abby opened her eyes in the dead of the night and lay in the darkness listening sleepily for Franzi.

The little girl didn't cry often when she was awake, but every once in a while she'd give a wail of alarm as she woke.

There were crickets outside, and Tabby wasn't sure at first what had disturbed her sleep. Then she recognized the sound of crunching gravel, like someone was trying to walk quietly. For a moment she thought it was Logan wandering around outside, but then there was a creak of floorboards that she recognized as the sound of someone walking on the porch.

Oh, hell no.

Tabby was wide awake now, and she groped for the length of pipe that she kept beside her bed.

Clancy? The mysterious Tallier? An unrelated thief who thought her ranch looked like easy pickings?

Tabby paused long enough to yank on her jeans but remained barefoot and wore only a T-shirt on top. Her arms goosebumped in the chilly night air as she tiptoed out. Someone was testing the windows from the porch and she closed her grip harder on the pipe.

Should she open the door and confront them, or wait for them to break in? Tabby's heart raced, her throat was tight, and she couldn't breathe deep enough to get air to think. Her palms were sweaty on the slick pipe and her jaw was clenched.

It felt like that moment when she knew she'd been thrown from a horse but hadn't hit the ground yet, knowing it was going to hurt but not sure how bad—but stretched out into infinity. They scratched quietly at the lock and she just got more and more wound up.

Call someone! Of course she should call someone, Tabby realized. Did she have time now? Would it give her precious element of surprise away? Where was her phone?

She'd left it charging on the kitchen counter, she remembered, because she hated having the distraction of it in the bedroom with her at night. She backed out of the living room, glad to have something to do but worried she'd wasted too much time already. Her hammering heart was hard to think around.

If it was someone here to take Franzi, was Tabby strong enough to stop them? Did they have a gun? It was a risky thing to break into a farmhouse in Montana, as well-armed as the population tended to be. It was a cowboy state, and most people could shoot tin cans off of fences by the time they were sixteen. Tabby could, but she'd never been terribly comfortable with weapons, and she didn't have anything suitable for protection against home invasion.

The person on the porch had given up on the windows and was making snick-snick noises at the deadbolt like they were trying to pick it. They were trying to sneak in now, but did that mean they didn't have backup?

The kitchen was darker than the living room, which at least had the nightlight from the bathroom to cast a little light, and Tabby tripped over a stuffy and took the edge of the island in her side. She froze, listening, and at that moment, the deadbolt at the front door shot back with its distinctive thunk.

Tabby stayed still, not daring to go for her phone. Maybe the intruder wouldn't see her. She wished she had a better grip on her pipe, and her fingers were already aching from clenching on it so hard.

The door opened without hesitation, and as Tabby wavered between charging forward with her pipe or hiding, the lights flipped on.

"Good evening, Tabby Swiftwater," Clancy Kennedy said smoothly, as if he hadn't just broken into her house. "You're a terrible liar, do you know that?"

He did have a gun—a wicked-looking revolver—and he was pointing it straight at her.

"What do you think I lied about?" Tabby bluffed. "Logan never came back."

"Logan had outlived his usefulness anyway. I'm here for my darling niece."

"I told you?—"

"Yes, it was a very convincing story about child services taking her, and it was a useful show in getting Tallier's men off my back. But I did have to pay him back in full what he paid for Logan with interest, and I still need to recoup those losses. Franzi is young enough to be molded into a better partner than he ever was."

Tabby's terror was swamped with outrage and she lifted her pipe. "Don't you lay a finger on that girl."

Clancy smiled. "I like you, Tabby. You've got moxie. But I have a gun, and Franzi's my blood . A court would probably back me up on this, and I'm not leaving without her." He sounded so calm and reasonable.

Tabby's brain seemed to be in overdrive, to make up for her previous numbness. Could she get him to put the gun down? Picking up Franzi, maybe? Could she fool him into thinking that she would give up that little girl without a fight? Even if he didn't have a gun, did she have a chance to subdue him physically?

She had to outthink him somehow. For once, she was glad that all of her terror was transparent on her face and she lowered her pipe reluctantly, like she was reconsidering her position.

"Atta girl," Clancy said, like she was a stubborn horse to soothe. "Put it down on the floor. You know that you can't stop me. Now go get Franzi for me."

"She's only four," Tabby pleaded, putting the pipe down. It wouldn't do much good against bullets. Her phone was there on the counter between boxes of cereal and the coffee maker. Could she get to it and call 9-1-1? Clancy still had the gun trained on her. "Doesn't she deserve a safe home like this ? Please leave her with me."

"You do realize that you're the reason that I need her, don't you?" Clancy said, in his too-reasonable voice.

"Me?" Tabby was genuinely confused.

"Your harmless little investigation into my cousin and I led to a whole lot of private information becoming public. The cops got my other identities and put heat on my best forgers. It's been hard to make an honest living with them on my tail." His voice took an angry edge.

Tabby told herself not to scoff at the idea of Clancy pursuing an honest living.

"I had no idea that it would cause you problems," she said humbly. "But Franzi would still be better off with me. You know that. Don't you want the best for her?" Did Clancy have a soft side to appeal to like Logan had proved to have?

"That's so sweet," Clancy said in a hard voice. "I'm looking out for one person now, and that's me." He waggled the tip of the gun at her. "Now, if you'll get the girl, we'll be on our way."

Tabby tried again, "You know it's not right. I would be?—"

"Get the brat, or I will."

Did she risk getting shot and fight him at every step, or did she play along? Tabby reminded herself to breathe so she could think.

She padded, still barefoot, to Franzi's room and cracked the door open, keenly aware of Clancy in the hallway behind her.

Franzi was asleep, sprawled almost sideways across the bed as if she'd fallen asleep in the middle of a cartwheel. The blankets were half on her, half hanging off the bed.

"You have to wake up, Franzi."

Franzi squirmed and came awake. Her trusting eyes were big and bright.

"Your Uncle Logan's cousin, Clancy, is here to—" It broke Tabby's heart to say the rest. "—take you away."

But Franzi didn't protest the move, or the fact that it was the middle of the night. She only slid bonelessly out of bed and went to the closet for her suitcases.

Clancy watched them from the doorway, always alert. Tabby used the tricks Logan had taught her about keeping an eye on him without seeming to and he never relaxed, even when Franzi was completely dressed, with a jacket right over her pajamas, and her bags were packed .

Franzi didn't say a word the whole time, but Tabby's heart melted and her will hardened at the girl's brave front. No four-year-old should ever have to go through this.

"Get her in the car," Clancy said, stepping back to give them room.

"You'll need her car seat," Tabby said, still casting for some way to stop this all from happening. "They'll do traffic stops for that."

"Fine," Clancy said in frustration.

"And keep her in the back seat," Tabby added. "It's much safer there."

"I don't need a safety lecture," Clancy said dismissively. "Get moving."

Tabby took Franzi's suitcases. The little girl walked so close to Tabby that she banged against them.

"Hang on," Tabby said impulsively as they came out into the living room. She put the suitcases down.

"What are you doing?"

Tabby wasn't sure if it was that she had hit some new level of adrenaline exhaustion or if the terror of Clancy's gun was starting to lose its sharp edge. "I'm getting her a granola bar for the road," she said boldly. "She needs some food."

Clancy looked like he wanted to argue, but he blew out instead. "Fine. But don't go any closer to that phone. Don't think I didn't notice it there."

"I won't," Tabby promised, yanking open the junk drawer. There was a granola bar right on top, but she made a show of searching for it, sifting through the lighters and twist-ties and chip clips until she found what she was really looking for. "Here." She held up the granola bar, palming the luggage tag beneath it. If she could find a safe place on Franzi to tuck it, she could follow them wherever they went. Maybe she could get it under the cushion of the car seat.

Having some kind of backup plan helped settle her and Tabby's knees weren't shaking quite so badly while she pulled on her shoes without socks, Clancy trying to hurry everything along.

Logan was waiting there in the dark by Clancy's car.

He was a great hulking shape in the silky midnight Montana air, and he snorted and pawed the gravel.

"Never came back?" Clancy sneered, shoving Tabby and Franzi down the porch steps ahead of him. "Why cousin, shouldn't you shift to say hello?" Tabby had no doubt from his tone that he knew Logan couldn't shift.

"He's got a gun," Tabby called to Logan in warning, even though Logan could probably see in the dark better than she could, being a horse. She didn't want him to do something stupid like charge Clancy and get shot. Logan pretended he was cold and calculating, but he had a huge streak of nobility, and he adored Franzi.

"Yes, I've got a gun," Clancy said. "And I'm going to take my niece and you're going to let us go, because you know what's good for you."

"She's not actually your niece," Tabby corrected him. "She would be your second cousin, once removed. Or maybe first cousin, once removed. I'm not entirely sure."

"Get her in the car," Clancy said impatiently.

But Logan, moving like dark water, came between Tabby and the car.

"Don't do anything stupid, Logan," she begged softly.

"Listen to your girlfriend," Clancy said, and he was close now. Close enough that Tabby could feel the cold weight of the end of the gun when he rested it on her skull. Her fear of the gun returned with a vengeance and Tabby felt like her heart was going to pound out of her chest.

"You don't need the brat," Clancy said smoothly. " She's just dead weight to you anyway. I take her, and we go our separate ways forever. We'll be even this way."

Logan snorted and Tabby could see his hide shiver.

"I need to get the car seat," Tabby said carefully, setting the suitcases down in the gravel. "Franzi can't go without it."

Franzi was still silent, clinging to Tabby's arm and Tabby started to take her with her towards the truck.

"I'll come with you," Clancy said suspiciously, and it was an awkward shuffle across the driveway, Franzi like a little barnacle, Clancy close beside with the gun on Tabby, and Logan gliding after them like a ghost horse.

Tabby got to the truck door. "It's locked," she realized. "I'll have to go in and get my keys."

"Forget the car seat," Clancy snarled. "You're just wasting my time now." Logan's presence seemed to set him on edge.

Logan, on the other hand, gave a nicker like a laugh.

"Get back," Clancy growled, and Logan stepped back slowly.

It was two against one now, Tabby realized, and Logan was a whole lot of horse. Clancy seemed unsettled by his presence.

She just had to get the gun away from him somehow, without putting Franzi in any danger, and that was challenging with Franzi still clinging to her.

Clancy dragged them back to his own car over Tabby's half-hearted protests about the car seat, and opened the back door. "Get in, kid."

Franzi began to cry and fold into herself unhappily, in the classic trick that Tabby had now witnessed several times where suddenly her legs didn't work. Tabby pretended not to expect it and let herself be dragged down with the little girl .

Clancy, who had one hand clamped around her arm, stooped down after her, the gun wavering from Tabby's head at last.

And in that moment, Logan struck.