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There was no answer. Cooper waited a few minutes, his nerves crawling. He remembered seeing Ruth’s bruised face when she’d come to clean the ranch house. Her husband was a violent man, and he was in there with Trevor and Maggie.
Cooper hadn’t thought to bring a gun with him. If he forced his way into the house, and McCoy was armed, there could be shooting. He would need to play this as cautiously as possible.
“Mr. McCoy,” he called again. “I know my children are in there. If you don’t send them out now, I’m going to call the sheriff.”
McCoy laughed, without humor. “I already called him myself. He should be here soon. Meanwhile, your kids are fine. You can have them as soon as I get my wife and daughters back.”
The cold certainty slammed Cooper like a kick to the gut. This was a hostage situation. And before it was over, anything could happen.
“That’s right, Mr. Chapman,” McCoy said. “The bitch had me jailed, and while I was locked up, she took my little girls and skedaddled. Left me with this no-account bastard kid that ain’t even mine.”
So Skip was there, too. And it appeared he was no safer than the other children.
“Let them go, McCoy,” Cooper said. “That’s the only way this mess will have a good ending.”
“The only good ending will be if my wife comes back and brings our girls—and if she withdraws the charge that sent me to jail. Otherwise, she’s going to pay. If she doesn’t, the whole damn town is going to pay. I’ve got these kids, I’ve got guns, and I’ve got enough dynamite to blow this house all the way to the moon. Get the picture?”
* * *
While Ed McCoy’s attention was on the front door, Maggie edged close to Trevor, who was still tied to the chair. “Did you hear what he said?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” Trevor was doing his best to be brave. “But that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“You don’t think he’s got dynamite?”
“Do you see any?”
“I don’t know what dynamite looks like,” Maggie said. “Maybe it’s in the closet. I could ask Skip.”
Trevor glanced toward the kitchen, where Skip, also, was still tied to a chair. His face was pale, his jaw tightly set, as if biting back any sign of fear. “It wouldn’t make any difference,” Trevor said. “Leave Skip alone. He’s already in trouble for trying to warn us.”
“If I could find the dynamite, I could pour water on it, so it wouldn’t blow up.”
“Don’t get any silly ideas, Maggie. He’ll tie you up, too.”
“Maybe I could sneak up behind him and grab his gun. I’m good at sneaking.”
Trevor sighed. “Maggie, just be quiet and do as you’re told. My dad’s outside. And the sheriff is coming, too. They’ll find a way to get us out.”
But would they? Trevor had seen true crime TV shows about hostage situations. Sometimes they ended with a rescue. Often as not they ended with people getting shot. But he wasn’t about to tell Maggie that.
As Ed McCoy turned to check on them, Maggie slunk off and settled in a ratty-looking armchair.
“No more talking,” McCoy snarled. “The next one of you makes a peep is going to be damned sorry.”
When he turned his back again, Maggie stuck out her tongue.
* * *
The big tan SUV with the sheriff ’s logo on the door drove up and parked next to Cooper’s Jeep. Buck climbed out, wearing a Kevlar vest and holding another one, which he tossed to Cooper. “Put it on. With the threats that lunatic is making, you never know what’s going to happen.”
“It’s not me I’m concerned about. It’s those kids,” Cooper muttered as he pulled the vest into place. “Have you let Sam know?”
“Sam and Grace are on their way. And Cottonwood Springs is sending a three-man SWAT team, but their helicopter’s in the shop so they’re driving. They won’t be here for at least forty-five minutes.”
“A SWAT team? Good Lord, Buck, do you think it’ll come to that?”
“Let’s hope not. But better safe than sorry.” Buck looked slightly ill. Cooper surmised that the young sheriff hadn’t handled anything this serious before. The more experienced man would be Sam, the former longtime sheriff. But even Sam would never have faced a situation like this one, with his own daughter as a hostage.
