Simon threw a tennis ball, and Cody sprang after it. Watching the dog run on those short Chihuahua legs with his Great Dane ears flopping made Savannah chuckle in spite of her morose mood. “Get it, Cody!” The dog galloped after the green ball toward the street as a black SUV approached and screeched to a halt.
Three masked men jumped out and came toward themacross the grass. Savannah froze and glanced around for help, but no one else was out here. Her adrenaline surged, and she reached for Simon, but he wasn’t paying attention and ran toward the dog. One of the men grabbed Cody by the collar, and the dog yelped and struggled.
Simon sprang at the man and pushed him. “Leave my dog alone.”
Savannah rushed forward and yanked him back from the man, then gave him a slight shove in the opposite direction. “Hide in the swamp!” She balled her fists and pummeled the guy in the belly as he started after the boy. He wrestled to try to get her out of the way, but she kneed him in the groin and scratched at his face with her nails.
“Get the kid,” he snarled to the other two. He flipped Savannah around and got her in a chokehold.
No matter how she tore at his arm, bulging with muscles, she couldn’t budge his grip. As her oxygen ran out, she saw stars, and then his free hand rose with a syringe.
A slight sting pricked her neck before he hauled her across the grass to the SUV and tossed her inside before crawling in beside her. Savannah tried to throw open the door, but it was locked and her brain couldn’t figure out how to unlock it.
Another man threw Simon in beside her and went around to the driver’s door. Marley growled and snapped at the third man’s legs, but strong hands grabbed Marley and dragged him away. Savannah’s captor climbed into the passenger seat and shut the vehicle door. Her vision began to fade.
Stay awake, stay awake.But the drug was swirling in her veins, dimming her senses. She closed her eyes and fell into the blackness.
Chapter 17
Is the custody exchange over?Hez sent the text to Savannah, then waited for the pulsing ellipsis to show she was responding. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his new GMC pickup. His neurologist had finally cleared him to drive two weeks ago, and he’d planned to buy another Audi, but Blake persuaded him that the rural back roads required something a little tougher. Driving it felt a little like walking on stilts, but Hez appreciated the extra power and ground clearance.
He had parked by the side of the road half a mile from Savannah’s cottage so he could stop by as soon as Michael left with Simon. Hez hated having to leave Savannah to face such a hard moment alone, but Judge O’Keefe’s order had been very clear: Hez had to keep at least five hundred yards from Simon.
A minute passed since his text. Two minutes. Three. He called her, but it went straight to voicemail without ringing.
Could she and Simon still be walking the dogs along the old swamp road? Cell coverage was bad out there. Maybe that was the problem.
He checked his watch: 6:40 p.m.—ten minutes after Michael was supposed to pick up Simon at Savannah’s cottage. She wouldn’t be late for that if she could help it. Missing a custody exchange would just give Michael an excuse to go back in front of Judge O’Keefe and ask for even more.
Hez frowned. Had Michael tried something? That made no sense—he was getting what he wanted: Simon. Still, the man was a violent thug, and Hez wouldn’t put anything past him.
He called again—and again it went directly to voicemail. Dread coiled in his gut. Something had happened.
He put the truck in gear and drove toward Savannah’s home. He turned the corner onto her street and saw Michael’s black Denali in her driveway. Michael stood beside it with his phone to his ear. He scowled and gesticulated with his free hand before spotting Hez. He gestured for him to pull over.
Hez parked on the street in front of the cottage, mind whirring. Where were Savannah and Simon? Why was Michael still here?
Michael shoved his phone in his pocket and stomped over. “Where’s my grandson?” he demanded as Hez stepped down from the truck.
Hez shut the door. “What are you talking about?”
Michael’s face darkened and his eyes flashed. He jabbed a finger toward Hez’s face. “Do not play games with me! I was supposed to pick up Simon at six thirty. Where is he? And where’s your Legare wife?”
Before Hez could respond, his phone rang. A picture of a cream-colored golden retriever appeared on the screen. The number was blocked.
Michael stared at the phone. The fury vanished from his face and voice. He turned pale. “Put it on speaker.”
Hez complied. “This is Hez Webster.”
“If you want to see Savannah, Simon, or your dogs again, you will do exactly as I say.” The flat robotic voice indicated electronic masking. “You have thirty-six hours to do two things. First, find and eliminate all copies of the database of materials you stole from Hornbrook Finance. All copies—whether created by you or not. Second, find and eliminate whoever is blackmailing Hornbrook.”
Hez’s pulse thundered in his ears. “If you hurt them, I’ll—”
“Thirty-six hours.”
The call ended.
Chapter 18
