The rain was lessening, but that wouldn’t change the conditions out there for the search parties. The land was a mire protected only by brush and wild grasses that might ease their movement. Maybe.

  It was his turn to pray, and he prayed to all the gods he’d ever heard of. The One God.

  Inevitably he remembered what Pastor Molly had said. Who are we to limit the Almighty?

  He decided that he might make an effort to get to know the pastor better. To discover more about that woman and her broader beliefs.

  He might like her a whole lot.

  But then his thoughts returned to Lizzie. Of all the people to have taken her... Phillip Margolis. A monster.

  * * *

  PHILLIP MARGOLIS COULDN’T stand the crying anymore. He stepped out into the lessening rain to escape. The only thing that ever quieted that brat was riding in the truck. As if it somehow soothed her. The only thing that did. He had to get out of here.

  But the idea of taking the truck and moving right then proved impossible. The sod hut had kept out the rain, but when he stepped out he saw the small rivers running downhill along the side of it.

  His truck would just get mired. He cussed. He swore every ugly word he knew, then cussed them all over again.

  And then, out of the blue, came the memory of Etta threatening to shoot him while he slept.

  Maybe his plan to get her back was stupider than he thought.

  Being stuck here with that kid was a nightmare. The only consolation he had was that no one could know he was the one who had taken that screaming kid. He could abandon that brat and head for the hills as soon as the ground dried a bit.

  And that didn’t sound like the worst idea he’d ever had.

  But what about getting that woman back? Etta. She belonged to him. She was his property as he’d proved countless times. She’d do anything he said.

  Including coming with him and that kid as far as he wanted to take them, far beyond detection, to a place they weren’t known at all.

  She might even be able to quiet that squalling. That was what mothers did, wasn’t it?

  He stomped down on his own frenzy. He had to get to Etta as soon as possible. Had to get them all away from Conard County. Soon.

  If only the ground would dry enough that his truck wouldn’t get stuck in mud. Getting stuck would be enough to make him want to kill.

  *

  VALERIE RETURNED FROM the mist, walking straight toward Guy. Some of the searchers were returning, carrying bad news about the sogginess of the terrain. Some of the ATVs were finding it impossible to continue. Another strike against this whole idea.

  Guy turned from the men and women he was talking to and looked at Valerie. “You gonna be okay?”

  “I don’t even know what okay is anymore. I need to do something, Guy. Sitting around like this isn’t helping. I’ve got to act.”

  He understood. He wasn’t far from feeling the same way himself. “But how?” he asked reasonably. “You’re just one person, and if you join the search how much will you add?”

  “How can you be so calm?” she demanded.

  “Because someone has to be. Someone needs to oversee all this.” He balled his fists. “Someone, Val. You know that.”

  She looked away, giving herself a little shake. “I still need to do more than sit around waiting for news.”

  He drew a long breath and expelled it between his lips. “You got an idea?”

  “I’ll go to Etta’s place. Wait there. He has to come eventually.”

  “You might be spotted by Margolis.”

  She shook her head. “If I am, he won’t know who I am. Most people don’t know yet that I’m a cop. I haven’t been around long enough. Anyway, I’d be surprised if the grapevine traveled to Etta. She’s as isolated as anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  He couldn’t argue against that, especially considering that Etta hadn’t even known about the kidnapping. “I warned you about Margolis. He’s unpredictable and dangerous. You should be armed.”

  She pulled back the left side of her jacket, revealing her waist holster. “I have my service pistol. But if you think I’m going to shoot anywhere near Lizzie, you couldn’t be more mistaken. I’ll find another way to deal with him.”

  Guy reluctantly nodded, completely unhappy with her decision but knowing there was probably no way to stop her. “You can’t go alone.”

  “What, am I going to drive up to that house in your official vehicle? Make a grand appearance that’ll keep him away if he’s anywhere in sight?”

  “Then how are you going to get there?”

  She looked around, waving her hand at all the pickups scattered around. “I’ll borrow a vehicle.”

  Guy thought about it for little more than a split second. “I’m going with you. I won’t go in the house, though. I’ll wait somewhere out of the way in case he shows up. Promise me one thing, though. You’ll arrange for Etta to get Lizzie out of his arms before he knows you’re there.”

  She nodded. “Fair enough. I thought about that, but I still won’t go in a cop car.”

  She was right, of course. He considered the problem for a minute or so, then keyed his radio. Static answered him, so he reached for the satellite phone.

  “Joe?” he said. “Cal?”

  “Yo,” came an answer from Joe.

  “Can you lend me your truck?”

  The answer was prompt. “Keys are still in the ignition. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks. I take it you haven’t seen anything else?”

  “One of our group seems to remember an old sod hut about three miles from here. We’re closing in on it. Carefully, like you said.”

  Guy stepped inside the command trailer and looked at the maps on the video screen. “I see you.”

  “Then come on down if’n you want.”

  Guy disconnected the call and emerged from the trailer to find Valerie looking sodden and forlorn. She sure as hell couldn’t ride a horse. She was still moving gingerly.

  He told her what Joe had said.

  “Maybe,” she answered, “we ought to go to that hut.”

  “Maybe. But what if he’s already moved again? What if he sees us coming?” He knew he kept throwing up roadblocks but he had to consider every possibility.

  She chewed her lip again, staring out into the deepening dusk. “It’s got to be the Margolis house then. He does want to bring Lizzie to Etta.”

  As good an answer as any. He turned operations over to Artie Jackson and Mark Alton, both adequately experienced to take over now.

  “I’ll keep in contact,” Guy told them, “but at some point I’m going to have to go dark. Don’t worry, but I can’t risk the sound of a radio or phone.”

  Then he joined Valerie at Joe’s truck, a crew cab in silvery gray, with high suspension and four-wheel drive. It looked as battered as any working truck out here.

  “You’re going to freeze to death,” was all he said to Valerie as they drove away. As soon as he could he turned the truck’s heater to high. The blast felt good to his own cold skin. To hers, too, he imagined.

  “I didn’t exactly come dressed for a downpour,” she answered. Nor did she sound as if she cared.

  * * *

  THE JOLTING OF the truck over the bad roads reminded Valerie that she still hadn’t recovered from her trip on horseback. Pawing in her pocket, she found the small bottle of ibuprofen and swallowed the pills dry. This truck didn’t have soft suspension, and each jolt reminded her of her overworked muscles, some of which she probably hadn’t used enough over recent years.

  “I need to find time to get back to the gym,” she remarked, again trying to distract herself even as her nerves ratcheted up.

  “I don’t know how much that would help saddle-soreness.”

  Maybe nothing could, except riding for hours nearly every day. “I feel like a wimp.”

  “That’s the last thing I’d call you.”

  Small comfort.

  * * *

  SHE TOOK AN opportunity to call May. Guy listened, wishing he could help as he heard Val’s side of the conversation.

  “Everybody’s out looking,” Valerie said to May. “Damn near the whole county, as far as I can tell. It’s amazing, May.”

  A pause. Then, “We think we might be closing in on the kidnapper. But I can’t be sure. Still, the guy seems to be taking care of Lizzie. Count on that, May. I’ll let you know as soon as we have anything.”

  As unsatisfactory a call as Guy could imagine, but a few scraps for May to cling to. That woman needed to cling to hope.

  “How’s she doing?” Guy asked when Valerie disconnected.

  “About as well as anyone could, I guess. She’s still breathing, anyway.”

  “And Chet?”

  “Somehow he’s managed to be there most of the day. I guess the Conard County birth rate has temporarily dropped.”

  Guy heard a touch of bitterness in her voice. “Big problem, huh?”

  “Not until Lizzie came. Not until May quit her teaching job to become a full-time mother.”

  “That’d be a heck of a change.”

  “Too much, I guess. I read that some men get resentful because they’re no longer the center of attention for their wives. I don’t know for sure because I didn’t get Chet’s side of the divorce. Not really.”

  “Some men need to grow up,” Guy said sharply.

  “Yeah.”

  He allowed the silence to dominate, along with the thwap of the windshield wipers and the creaks from a truck that was getting old from rough use. Eventually he tried to distract her again. Little else he could do.

  He spoke. “I guess you study up on human psychology.”

  “Like Gray Cloud said, some of it we learn the hard way. But yeah, I’m kind of a student.”

  “Me, too. Always looking for answers for why people behave the way they do.”

  “Biggest mystery of the universe, as mysterious as black holes and the big bang.”

  “Those are two things that blow my mind.”

  She answered with surprising wryness, given the circumstances. “Seems physicists and cosmologists would agree with you.”

  Another window into this woman, one he liked. They read the same things, were fascinated by the same things. Another link. One he wasn’t at all sure he wanted.

  * * *

  THEY REACHED THE Margolis homestead. Rain still fell dismally, although much more lightly. Valerie climbed out and walked to the front door. As soon as Etta opened it and let her in, Guy drove away. She had no idea where he was going but was certain he’d do the wisest thing. She trusted his experience and knowhow. Maybe more than she trusted her own.

  Etta was surprisingly glad to see her.

  “I didn’t want to sit here alone,” Etta said. “Not all alone and waiting for Phillip. God knows what he’ll do to me. Or that baby. Let me make coffee and soup. You look cold to the bone.”

  Valerie noticed that the shotgun now stood beside the door. Ready. A change seemed to have come over Etta, too. She no longer looked as shrunken, as hopeless. Maybe she was looking forward to putting two loads of birdshot into her husband.

  That wouldn’t be surprising.

  Etta soon served her hot coffee and a big bowl of canned chicken soup.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this,” Valerie told her.

  “Least I can do. I’m grateful you came. Because he’s coming. I feel it in my bones. That man would never let me go. I shoulda known that a couple of years wasn’t enough for him to get the message.”

  Etta faced her across the battered kitchen table. “Those deputies didn’t find much in the compost heap. Didn’t think they would. I buried the damn stuff good.”

  “How come?”

  “Because I was pissed. Crawling back like the slime he is. A snake, although maybe that ain’t fair to snakes. Somehow I knew he’d never let go. I was just beginning to hope.”

  God, this woman still had some fire in her. It was almost as if these events had awakened her from despair.

  Valerie’s phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. Guy.

  “I’m in position, Val,” he said. “I’m going dark now.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Valerie answered. “I’ll do that, too.”

  “Just remember, this puts you on your own.”

  “I’m not alone. Etta’s locked and loaded and ready to shoot.”

  Guy’s laugh was genuine but brief. “Give that woman kudos for me.”

  Val disconnected and turned her phone off. “Guy’s out there. Ready. He said to give you props.”

  Etta smiled faintly. “Nothin’ I ain’t wanted to do for years. Just get that little girl away from him, then look out.”

  Valerie reached across the table, covering Etta’s cold, bony hand with her own. “Not unless there’s no other choice, Etta. You don’t want to go to jail.”

  “I been in jail most of my grown life. At least in jail I wouldn’t be worrying about him.”

  * * *

  GUY HAD DRIVEN up the road until he’d found a short turnout that ended in barred fence facing a cattle chute. The chute would guide livestock straight into the back of a waiting truck.

  He checked his GPS, recalled the terrain map from memory and set out at a slow jog. He had a good idea of where he needed to go.

  Finally he hunkered down behind a low hillock that gave him a view of the Margolis house through his night vision goggles. Here he felt no one would be able to come up from behind him without him knowing first. Soggy as the ground was it might deaden footsteps, but on high alert he was sure he wouldn’t miss the smallest sound.

  Considering the problem, though, he decided that Phillip Margolis would have to come by truck. He couldn’t possibly intend to slog his way over so much open ground with Lizzie in his arms. Besides, he’d need his vehicle, whatever it was, to make a quick escape.

  He had little doubt that Phillip intended to abscond with both the little girl and his wife. Not if he meant what was in his note.

  Nope. Margolis intended to make a clean getaway with them.

  He wondered if the cordon was closing in tightly enough to worry Margolis. If he’d caught wind of the search. That might complicate everything. Might put Lizzie in greater danger.

  Hell and damnation.

  * * *

  THE WAIT WAS no easier at the house, Valerie thought. Nerves crawled along her skin. This might conceivably take days, especially the way the weather had been today.

  Etta seemed okay with the waiting. Naturally she was. She didn’t want to see that man again in this lifetime.

  “Remember,” she said more than once to Etta, “you want to pretend you’re happy about the baby. Take Lizzie from his arms. Can you do that?” The question seriously worried her. Most people were lousy actors.

  “’Course I can,” Etta answered. “Been pretending with that man for a long time. Could never let him see nothin’ but fear. He never guessed how I really felt, not until I said I’d shoot him.”

  Then this might work, Valerie thought. It might. “He can’t know I’m here.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. Get the baby, then you take care of him. I hope you shoot him.”

  Valerie surely wanted to. Then they both settled back into the endless wait. Etta dozed on a battered, nearly shredded sofa in the main room. Valerie sat in the dark on a chair in the tiny bedroom. No way could she sleep on it because it was like sitting on hard lumps.

  But she didn’t want to sleep. Someone had to remain awake.

  At least Guy was out there somewhere, although he might not be able to do much from where he was.

  But if her plan in this house went awry and Margolis got away with Etta and Lizzie, Guy would take care of it.

  With that, for now, she had to be content.

  Except contentment was not part of her basic mood. No, she kept thinking about Guy in ways that felt awful in the present circumstances. How could she let desire run through her now?

  She had Lizzie to worry about. So why was she thinking about a tall, strong man with an unmistakable Indigenous face, a man in whom she sensed a deep-rooted anger? Why was she thinking about how sexy he was, how fascinating?

  About how much better she wanted to know him.

  She ought to feel disgusted with herself under these circumstances, but disgust refused to come.

  All she felt was a longing, a yearning. One that could never amount to anything. Not when she had to leave. Not when he had every right to scorn her world.

  And, by extension, to scorn her.

  God, she was a flaming mess.

  * * *

  THE STORM HAD PASSED. Phillip Margolis stepped outside the tiny hut. At least the brat had fallen asleep, the only escape he got. This was a stupid idea. He wanted to kick his own butt.

  At least the ground felt firmer now. The little rivers were slowing down as they passed the hut. Soon he’d dare to move. Probably not until late tomorrow when night might provide some cover.

  Not that he expected anyone to be interested in his place. No reason. They didn’t know about him.

  The moon peeked between scudding clouds, giving him some light to see by. Dawn was almost here.

  He turned around to go back inside when he caught sight of movement atop a nearby hill.

  His heart nearly stopped. Two men on horseback. Were they hunting for him? He swore under his breath. What now? He was sure he’d left no trail.

  But then the two men turned their mounts away, disappearing behind the hill.

  Margolis began to breathe again. Just a couple of cowboys checking out the range after the storm. That was all they could be. Because no one on this damn planet could know he’d taken the kid. Or where he was hanging out.