Perspiration from the ride into town made her skin clammy but it was fear that made her hands shake and bile rise to her throat.
The plan, quickly revised from the original, was to ride into town and split into groups. Evie, Uncle Charley, Heath, Ben, and Teddy would free Lucy while Jake and Esteban met with King, and Antonio went to report the situation to the Marshal.
It hadn’t been a plan she liked—none of them did—but it would have to work. If nothing else, they had the element of surprise, though she was certain King’s men were alert to the possibility someone would try to rescue Lucy. Her hope was they could get her out of the house before King’s men even knew she was gone, then let the Marshal and his deputies take the men into custody.
That’s what she wanted to happen. Whether it did or not remained to be seen, but there was one thing she knew for certain—she wasn’t about to lose either Lucy or Jake without a fight.
“Do you see her?” Uncle Charley whispered as he crept up beside her, startling her. Before she could respond or stop the thunderous pounding of her heart, her attention was drawn to Heath and Ben climbing the stairs to the second-floor veranda, their footsteps barely making any sound on the wooden risers. Teddy was at the front of the house, also looking in windows, trying to locate where King’s men were keeping Lucy. She hoped Antonio, as well as the Marshal and his deputies, were on their way.
“No, she must be somewhere else,” she whispered finally. But where? In the parlor? One of the upstairs bedrooms? The dining room? It was a big house, with part of the first floor set aside for Ben’s office, the room where he saw his patients, and a small sitting room where other patients waited for their turn to see him.
Lucy could be anywhere.
Evie moved from the window to the back door, Charley following closely. She had no gun, no knife, nothing to protect herself with except her wits. She heard footsteps above and hoped that it was Heath and Ben letting themselves into the house and not one of King’s men coming out to the veranda to look around. She listened closely, but heard nothing else…no screams of surprise, no thumps and thuds of a scuffle. “Are you ready?”
Uncle Charley gave a slight nod as she reached for the doorknob, twisted it slowly and eased the door open, thankful the hinges didn’t squeal. She took several steps into the kitchen and froze, her heart nearly stopping as conversation drew her attention from the dining room just beyond. She clearly heardLucy’s voice and that of a man, but there was no yelling, no threats being issued. Surprisingly, they were discussing—of all things—photography.
Smart girl. Only Lucy could draw someone, even her abductor, into a polite conversation about her favorite hobby.
She advanced into the hallway, keeping her back against the wall. The staircase leading to the second floor was on her right and she glanced up, almost expecting someone to be standing there, keeping watch. Her heart in her throat, she crept further along the wall.
The pocket doors to the dining room were wide open. She peeked around the corner and caught sight of Lucy tied to one of cushioned chairs at the dining table. Her hands were tied as well, but they were in front of her so she could sip at the cup of coffee placed before her. She didn’t appear hurt, other than a reddened spot on her cheek that resembled a handprint. There was a man in the room with her—big, broad of shoulder, well-dressed, his dark hair curling at the nape of his neck, but his back was to the doorway. He held up one of Lucy’s cameras, turning it this way and that, inspecting it, clearly curious, before placing it on the table.
Catching Lucy’s attention, she held her finger to her lips, warning her to be quiet then mouthed,How many?
Lucy, her eyes wide, tapped her finger against the teacup clutched in her hands once, then raised her gaze toward the ceiling.
“Are the ropes too tight?” the man asked suddenly, his voice seemingly full of regret. Perhaps, he didn’t want to be holding Lucy hostage. Perhaps, he could be reasoned with. Hope flared in her heart.
“A little. I have pins and needles in my hands.”
“If I loosen the ropes, will you promise not to try anything?”
Lucy’s mouth spread into a charming smile, one meant to disarm. She nodded, her glance taking on that innocent gleam Evie knew so well. “I promise. I could even show you how to take photographs if you free me.”
Uncle Charley nudged her shoulder. She turned her head around to see Charley point toward Teddy coming out of the little room where Ben saw his patients, his guns drawn. He wasn’t a crack shot like Esteban, but he was good enough. She waved a little, drawing his attention, then pointed into the dining room and held up two fingers.Lucy, she mouthed,one other. She raised her gaze toward the ceiling as Lucy had done and raised a finger, letting him know there was one more person upstairs, though she had no doubt Heath and Ben had or would take care of him. There was no noise from the upper floor, not even footsteps.
Teddy moved toward her on feet as silent as a puma, anger tightening his lips. He entered the dining room just as Lucy’s captor rose to his feet and moved toward her, Evie hoped with the intention of removing the ropes around her hands.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Teddy warned as he pressed the bore of the gun into the man’s back, the fabric of his suit jacket puckering against the metal.
“Shit!” the man exclaimed but didn’t move. “Don’t shoot me. I didn’t hurt her.”
“Then who put that red mark on her cheek? Looks like somebody slapped her.” Teddy asked in response to his statement, his tone deep and angry.
The man shook his head. “That was Ballard, not me. I’d never hurt a woman.”
“Are you all right?” Evie rushed into the room and quickly untied Lucy’s hands and removed the rope holding her to the chair. She drew her niece into her arms and held her tight, therelief rushing through her making her knees weak and her throat constrict with gratitude.
Lucy nodded as she withdrew from the hug and rubbed at her wrists. “I’m fine. Angry, but fine. I knew you’d come.” She paused for a moment to gain her balance, then bombarded them with questions. “How’s Ben? Is he all right? What’s happening with Jake? Did he win?”
“Ben is fine. He’s upstairs with Heath,” she said, as she tossed the ropes to Charley and nodded toward the man Teddy held at gunpoint. “Tie him up.”
Lucy approached her jailer and, incredibly, smiled at him as Charley tied his hands behind his back. “You know, Harris, I think you’re in the wrong business. You seem to be a nice man, despite holding me against my will. At least you were kind, unlike your partner.” She smoothed her fingers against her cheek, the one that still held the imprint of a hand. “My advice? Get as far away from Erik King as you possibly can. He’ll lead you to nothing but trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Harris had the good graces to hang his head in shame. “I am sorry, Miss Lucy.”
A startled shout came from upstairs then utter silence, causing all of them to look up toward the ceiling, each one of them holding their breaths, waiting, wondering who had yelled. Lucy grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t need to—fear drained the color from her face, leaving the handprint on her cheek to stand out in stark relief. “Ben,” she whispered, and rushed into the hallway, pulling Evie along with her. Charley followed, as did Teddy and the man Lucy had called Harris.
