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After powering up his laptop, he hit a series of keys, then waited impatiently for messages to appear. Not that he expected many. He’d set up this very private, personal email address before leaving Dallas, and only a handful of people knew it.
One message from Jerry, succinct as ever: Nothing yet. Still trying.
He scrolled to the next message. Icy fingers crept down his spine at reading the sender’s name. El Cazador.
How had the guy tracked down this e-mail address, and what else did he know? Zach’s breath caught in his throat at the first paragraph...and the danger it represented to an innocent little girl.
I’m far closer than you think. Maybe I’ll take the kid first. Or maybe I’ll just arrange a nice final party for you both. Wouldn’t that be fun?
The last paragraph made his threat crystal clear.
Bring in the law, and I’ll end this even sooner. You can bet more people will die—and that girl will be first.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After reading the threatening e-mail, Zach’s first thought was to contact the closest DEA office and request assistance. His second thought was that it might be a major mistake.
Out here, in an isolated, rural area, it would be nearly impossible for a team of Special Agents to move in unnoticed. Their visibility would elevate the risk.
If spooked, the guy could turn violent. Or he might disappear for days...weeks...months. Then suddenly reappear and take Katie in the blink of an eye. And so far, Zach didn’t even have a physical description to help identify him in a crowd.
But while the arrival of Special Agents would be obvious, so would the arrival of anyone else from far away. A stranger hanging around town would be hot news at the café in minutes.
That gossip could prove more helpful to Zach than what the Dallas field office had been able to find so far. They’d turned up nothing conclusive. Zach hadn’t had much more luck, though he’d spent hours each day, poring over old records on his computer, searching through old case files.
Now he grabbed his binoculars from the kitchen counter and stepped outside to scan the rolling hills surrounding the house—barren except for the trees filling ravines and a scattering of distant cattle.
By daylight a stealthy approach to the house would be almost impossible, given the long driveway and lack of trees for cover. At night...
He thought about Martha Benson’s place, just north of town, and smiled. Several times, when driving past, he’d pulled over and parked for a few minutes, because the woman’s flocks of poultry enthralled Katie. Especially the peacocks and bossy geese.
He and Katie would pay Martha a quick visit before going to Dana’s ranch, and then he’d stop at home to install an instant alarm system no city guy would ever expect.
* * * *
“GRANDMA’S ON THE PHONE,” Molly shouted down the steps. “She wants to talk to Mom!”
