AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was going to suggest that you hold it on the steps of the sheriff’s office,” Logan replied. “I prefer that the media regard the Triple C a fortress. They can fly over it, but they can’t get into it.”
“That’s a good idea,” Markus agreed. “Believe me, the kidnappers will get the message.”
“Consider it done.” Chase reached for the telephone. “I’ll call Stumpy right now, and have him make sure every road gate leading onto the Triple C is closed and men stationed at them.”
But Logan knew that was just the beginning. The press conference alone would require precise planning for it to come off without a hitch. Which meant more work for him. Fatigue tugged at his muscles. He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the rasp of whiskers. He needed a shave and a shower, a change of clothes, some sleep, and a few hours with Cat and Quint. But he didn’t think he’d get the time for any of that.
On the late evening newscast that night, the attempted kidnapping was the lead story on all three stations. Sitting on the living room sofa, with Logan’s arm a warm weight around her shoulders, Cat watched with pride when her father’s image came on the screen. He made a commanding figure in his suede jacket and dark Stetson, age lines giving his raw-boned face a craggy strength. His voice, when he spoke, resonated with authority and conviction. Ty stood at his side, a younger, taller version of his father, stamped with all the same features and characteristics.
“Good job, Dad,” Cat said when the image on the screen switched to aerial footage of the Triple C headquarters.
“The fifty-thousand-dollar reward should start the phones ringing,” Logan added.
“In a related story,” the newscaster said, “fire investigators have determined the wildfire that threatened the town of Blue Moon last night was deliberately set. There is speculation it may have been started by the kidnappers as a diversion. Calder’s son-in-law, Acting Sheriff Logan Echohawk, was called to the fire, leaving his wife and son alone at their ranch. Cynthia Tate has more on that story. Cynthia.”
“Do you think they could have started it, Logan?” Jessy sat on the arm of Ty’s chair, watching when they switched to a shot of a willowy redhead, a fire-blackened prairie filling the background. “Would the kidnappers have had time to start the fire and knock out the transformer, too?”
“It’s possible.” Logan’s hand rubbed the point of Cat’s shoulder in an absent caress.
“Logan, that’s you,” Cat murmured in surprise when a shot of him came on the screen. “You didn’t tell me you’d been interviewed.”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” he began.
She shushed him and sat forward to listen, studying his face on the screen. Beard stubble shadowed his jaw and accented the hollows of his cheeks. There were hints of weariness and lack of sleep around his eyes. At the same time, there was a sense of alertness and bottomless energy.
When the reporter asked him about the possible connection between the kidnapping and the arson, his response was a simple but firm, “I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”
“What about the reports that your wife collapsed after last night’s ordeal, that she is heavily sedated and under a doctor’s care?”
He leveled cool gray eyes on the reporter. “My wife is a Calder, and Calders are cool under pressure. A little night riding isn’t about to shake her.”
“Then she’s all right?”
“My wife is fine. My wife and son are both fine.”
Moved by the way he had chosen to defend her, Cat settled back against him. “That was a beautiful thing to say.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Chase agreed.
“It was the truth,” Logan said, his eyes smiling down on her. “You never lost your head. Our son is upstairs asleep because of what you did. You’re quite a woman, Cathleen Calder Echohawk.”
“Thanks to you.” Cat looked at him with proud love.
“I have to agree with my sister,” Ty said. “There was a time when Cat would have tried to fight them off.”
“Let’s hope the day never comes when she’s forced into that situation.” Logan’s voice was much too serious; it sent a little chill shivering up her spine.
When the station went to a commercial, Ty picked up the remote and flipped through the channels. “Ty, go back.” Jessy pressed a hand on his shoulder, urgency in her voice. He switched to the previous channel. “Look.” Jessy pointed to the television. “It’s Lath Anderson.”
His hat was pushed to the back of his head, the sun full on his face with Sally’s restaurant and bar visible in the background. “…whoever tried to snatch that kid was a fool. Ask anybody here—” he waved a hand toward the small crowd gathered outside the building—“and they’ll tell you, no matter what else you might think about him, Chase Calder is the original Big Jake. You ain’t gonna get anything from him but a whole heap of trouble.”
“Let’s hope the kidnappers hear that,” Jessy murmured.
Logan knew the sound bite was the kind of catchy comment the rest of the media would pick up—one that could prove to be an effective deterrent. Yet he was bothered by the cocky way Lath looked directly into the camera and winked.
“My brother, the television star.” Rollie thumped Lath on the back.
“That oughta throw Echohawk and those FBI boys off the scent.” He got up from the kitchen table and walked over to switch off the portable television set on the counter. Delighted with himself, he laughed and shook his head. “Now I ask you—who’s gonna really believe those nasty kidnappers would make another try for the kid after I just told ’em Calder might not come up with the ransom money? Nobody. Absolutely nobody.”
