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A scrap of paper in her purse had already yielded Zach’s email address plus a phone number, but she’d refused to say one word about her brother, or his friends, or where he might have taken her daughter.
Even after Marco worked her over, she’d just stared back with crazed, dilated eyes, her limbs trembling. Then she’d fought back with strength she never should have possessed. If they’d still had her kid, she would have talked plenty.
She’d finally caved when he held a knife to her throat and drew blood. She’d admitted that she’d tracked down Zach’s mother and asked for the names of towns where Zach had lived as a child, saying she wanted to “visit” them someday—probably hoping to find him and reclaim her daughter.
Enraged at her rebellion, Marco had gotten too rough...but it didn’t matter. She would have been a dead woman anyway, sooner or later. Then they’d slipped her some angel dust so she’d be seen as just one more overdosed addict.
The e-mail address had already been very useful.
With a black-market software program, it had been easy enough to track down Zach’s general location, though it might have been impossible to locate him. But one of the town names Zach’s mother had given Janet—Fossil Hill, Colorado—was within that area.
El Cazador smiled. He’d chosen his own nickname—the Hunter—very well.
Now he’d arrived in Fossil Hill, and soon the vow made at the graves of Eduardo and Reuben Alvarez would be accomplished.
All he had to do was kidnap the little girl, and then he’d have all the leverage needed to make it happen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zach had expected Dana to answer her front door in something simple—maybe slacks and a blouse or a nice little dress that clung to her curves and accented her slender form. His more hopeful expectations had involved something scarlet, with black stiletto heels.
But when she greeted Katie and him at the door wearing stained coveralls, battered hiking boots, and a ball cap, with a cell phone at her ear, her businesslike handshake startled him more than her attire.
Come on in, she mouthed silently.
She listened to someone on the other end of the line, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m on my way.”
After hanging up, she gave him an apologetic smile, though he’d have bet it was born of relief and not regret. “I’m afraid I’ll need a rain check for tonight. I had another late call before this, and now the Meyers’ stud is colicking.”
“No problem. I understand.” He rested a hand on Katie’s shoulder. “Dana needs to go take care of a sick horse, so I’m going with her, okay? You can still stay here and play.”
She’d been subdued on the way over, even more somber as they parked outside. Now her lower lip trembled. “Can I come too?” The puppy in her arms twisted vigorously, trying to reach the floor.
“I think Buffy wants to stay here, don’t you?”
“You don’t have to come along, Zach,” Dana said. “Really. This call could take quite a while.”
