Page 35 of Under an Oklahoma Sky

After ensuring his order was followed, he turned his attention back to the dispatcher. “Sage Hammond is missing, and I think she’s been kidnapped. Her truck is in the driveway, the door is wide open, the headlights are on, and her purse was dumped on the ground. Our dog is unconscious on the porch, but still breathing. I think he was poisoned. I need the sheriff and deputies out here immediately.”

“Stay on the line, Mr. Westfield, while I dispatch the radio cars. Then I’ll need more information.”

He paced back and forth for what seemed like an eternity. After finishing his call to Evan, Matthew knelt beside Benji and stroked the animal’s side. Adam crossed the foyer and placed a hand on top of the boy’s head, trying to reassure him while he waited for the dispatcher to return.

Only then did he realize that the porch light was off.

Reaching over, he found the switch was up, as it should be. He flipped it down and back up, but nothing happened. Stepping onto the porch again, he inspected the fixture.

The bulb was gone.

Whoever had taken Sage had apparently thought of everything.

Once Evan and Maddie arrived, he would leave the children in the older woman’s care and have Evan take Benji to the twenty-four-hour veterinary hospital a few miles away. Then he’d take Sage’s truck and go question the number-one suspect on his short list of people who had an ax to grind with her.

The dispatcher came back on the line with a litany of questions—where Sage had gone that evening, who she’d been with, what time Adam thought she’d arrived home, and what she’d been wearing. As he answered each one, his desperation grew. He wanted to jump into the truck and find her, but he couldn’t leave the kids alone.

Just as the dispatcher once again assured him help was coming, Evan and Maddie burst through the back door. After disconnecting the call, Adam gave the couple a brief but complete rundown of what had happened. Maddie retrieved a blanket from the hall closet and helped Evan and Matthew get Benji into the older man’s truck after he pulled it around to the front of the house.

Meanwhile, Adam snatched Mark’s old rifle from its perch over the fireplace and found the box of ammunition Sage had told him was in her dresser drawer. The instant he picked up the weapon, he knew what he was risking. As a convicted felon, he wasn’t supposed to have a firearm in his possession.

He didn’t give a damn.

Sage was out there somewhere with God only knew who, and he would gladly go back to prison if breaking the law tonight meant bringing her home alive.

He had to get out of there before the sheriff’s deputies arrived and prevented him from leaving. Rushing through the front door, he pulled up short when Evan held up a hand.

“Take this instead.” The older man pulled his Glock 9mm from the holster at his hip and swapped it for the rifle. “Easier to conceal. Just make damn sure you're justified in using it, son. I’ll call you as soon as I drop Benji off.”

Adam checked the magazine. Fully loaded. It had been a long time since he’d fired one of Harry’s guns at the shooting range his foster father had belonged to, but some things were like riding a bike.

After giving Maddie and Matthew a reassuring nod, he hurried to Sage’s truck, climbed behind the wheel, and started the engine. He knew he was probably disturbing evidence, but preserving a crime scene didn’t mean a damn thing to him compared to finding Sage before something horrible happened to her.

He threw the truck into drive before he’d even gotten the door shut.

Please, God. Let me find her in time.

Chapter Thirteen

At the end of the drive, Adam turned right and floored the accelerator. In the rearview mirror, he could see the lights of several patrol cars heading toward Heaven’s Pastures. Maddie would give them what little information there was, but he couldn’t wait for the initial report to be taken before anything was done. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he pushed the truck far past the thirty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit, then slammed on the brakes when the turnoff he was looking for approached rapidly. Sharply turning the wheel, he almost lost control as the back of the truck swerved wide before the tires regained traction.

Bart Sherman’s two-story ranch house came into view, along with a large bunkhouse and several barns. Very few lights were on in any of the buildings, but Adam didn’t care who he was about to wake up.

Skidding to a stop in front of the main house, he grabbed the gun and leaped from the truck, leaving the engine running. He stormed up the stairs and pounded on the door. “Sherman! Open up! Where is she? Sherman!”

He was about to rear back and kick the door in when the interior lights came on. Through the long, narrow window next to the door, he saw the ranch owner descending the stairs. Adam slammed his fist against the wood again, his impatience and fear consuming him. “Open the damn door!”

It swung open, and he wasted no time grabbing the other man by his shirt and shoving him against the foyer wall. He pressed the weapon to Sherman’s temple, rage taking over. “Where is she?”

“W-where’s who? What the hell do you think you’re doing, Westfield? Are you out of your mind?”

He pressed his forearm harder into Sherman’s chest. “Sage! Where is she? What did you do to her?”

“Bart! Oh, my God! Let him go!”

The shrieking female voice penetrated the fury clouding Adam’s mind. He glanced toward the stairs to see Helen Sherman standing there in her bathrobe. She was pale, her eyes filled with fear as she stared at the loaded gun pressed against her husband’s head.

For one sickening instant, Adam saw another room, another man, and the consequences of letting his rage control him.