Guy prayed that Lizzie was with Margolis. That he hadn’t left the little girl somewhere to draw Etta out.

  Hell if he’d let Margolis leave unwatched. If the guy didn’t carry a kid into that house, then it would be time for the chopper. Or to get someone to follow Margolis to wherever he went with Etta.

  Guy swore again, aware of how many ways this could all go wrong. How many ways Lizzie’s life could be risked. How many bad things might happen.

  But some decisions had to wait until he knew if Margolis had the child with him.

  He belly-crawled closer to the house, to a place where he could step in if he had to.

  At this point he’d have put a gun to Margolis’s head if necessary to find out where Lizzie was.

  If there was one thing he knew about Margolis’s type of bully it was that they were all cowards at heart.

  * * *

  AT THE CHAMBERLAIN HOUSE, May emerged from her bedroom to all the kindly faces that waited for her. They all meant well, but she was past caring about it. Other than getting Lizzie back, she wanted just one thing.

  “Where’s Chet?” she asked.

  “He left,” Janine Baxter said.

  May’s face, all swollen from crying more tears that she would have ever believed anyone could shed, said, “It’s not his fault.”

  Janine replied, “It’s Chet who needs to hear that, not us.”

  * * *

  STILL STANDING OUTSIDE, hating his helplessness, hating himself, Chet squeezed his eyes shut. There was only one baby he wanted to hold in his hands right now. Just one.

  His phone rang and he automatically answered it.

  His office assistant was calling. “Mary Pringle is on her way to the hospital.”

  Another delivery. He couldn’t deal with that right now. “Tell Lucy to take it. She can fit it in somehow. I can’t... Not right now.”

  “She’ll understand.”

  “She damn well ought to.” He’d been making all kinds of excuses for Lucy because she had a young family. He was through. He’d made excuses for her when he had his own family to care for. He’d failed.

  What had made him do that? A sense of responsibility to his patients? Or a need for control? After this, if there was an after worth living for, he needed to deal with himself.

  Then, stunning him, he heard May call him. Wondering if he was hallucinating, he turned slowly and saw her standing in the doorway.

  “Chet,” she said, her voice wobbly. “I was wrong. I need you.”

  With no reluctance whatsoever, he walked toward her.

  * * *

  PHILLIP MARGOLIS TOOLED down the road slowly, mainly because the kid had shut up. The minute he stopped, that little brat would start up again. He needed some time to prepare for shrieking, even if he meant to dump the kid on Etta.

  But God, he was enjoying the quiet. Nothing but the rumble of an engine and the creaking of the truck’s aging frame.

  Yeah, he’d get them far away, because if he didn’t someone would notice him and Etta suddenly had a child. He’d make his wife come with him. Easy to do with the kid.

  Visions of Denver or Billings filled his worn-out head. Places with things to do. Bars. Living here at the back of beyond, he’d missed going to bars whenever he wanted.

  He’d missed a lot of things, he suddenly realized. All because of Etta. All because he couldn’t trust her by herself.

  His anger at his wife began to surge. Damn woman was to blame for all of this. All of it.

  As soon as he got her away from here, he would teach her a lesson she’d never forget. Threaten to shoot him? He’d make sure she’d never even think of that again.

  Visions of vengeance replaced visions of bigger towns to hide in. Yeah, he’d teach her good.

  * * *

  GUY SWORE AS another rock poked him in the ribs. He’d be black and blue all over when this was done. Not that he cared.

  He hoped Val was okay. This wait had to have been harder on her than him. Hunkered down inside that house, unable to do anything at all, with no idea what was happening. If anyone knew where Margolis might be. If they had a hope in hell of rescuing Lizzie soon.

  All Guy wanted at this point was to see Margolis in cuffs and Valerie walking into her sister’s house to put Lizzie safely in May’s arms.

  It didn’t seem like such a big thing to wish, but it was huge.

  * * *

  ETTA MARGOLIS WAS growing increasingly stressed, increasingly afraid.

  Valerie slipped her arm around the woman’s shoulder. “Just remember you won’t be alone with him. I’ll be here. You know that. Just get him to give you Lizzie. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Etta’s eyes drifted to the shotgun.

  “No, Etta,” Valerie said firmly. “You don’t want to hurt the baby.”

  Etta shook her head. “I told you I don’t. It’s the last thing I want. But then let me plug Phillip. Please.”

  Valerie squeezed her a bit. “No, Etta. Let the law take him away. We will, I promise. He’ll go away for a long, long time.”

  Etta’s pallid face turned to her. “But he’ll be getting out someday, won’t he?”

  Oh, God, Valerie thought. This woman was on a hair trigger. Not fully trustworthy. She took Etta by the shoulders. “Please, help me save my niece, hard as it might be. Please.”

  Etta squared her shoulders a little. “Yeah. We gotta save your niece. We gotta.”

  There was still some hope that this woman wouldn’t fall apart at the crucial moment. But now Valerie had another thing to worry about: Etta’s state of mind.

  Then Etta went to get the shotgun, putting it nearby.

  Valerie closed her eyes briefly. That shotgun was Etta’s only lifeline. Or at least she perceived it that way.

  But if Etta took Lizzie from Phillip, she’d have to abandon that protection. She wouldn’t be able to shoot with a child in her arms.

  What Valerie had believed might be getting better was steadily getting worse. She struggled for a way to break Etta out of her spiral.

  “Do you want to hear about the puppy I rescued on my way up here?”

  Slowly Etta’s eyes focused on her. “A puppy?”

  “Yes. Hit by a car. I found him on the roadside, but he needed surgery. He’s getting better now. He also needs a home. Would you like to adopt him?”

  “He got a name?”

  “Not yet. That’s for you to decide, if you want him.”

  Etta nodded slowly. “Never dared have a dog before. Always wanted one.”

  “Then let me tell you about this little guy.”

  * * *

  GAGE WAITED AT the staging area, following the search. Many of the people had been reeled in as the cordon tightened. Others had been instructed to keep their eyes on the truck without being seen.

  And still that truck rolled slowly down the county road. Too slowly as far as Gage was concerned.

  Connie popped her head out of the trailer. “Boss?”

  He turned, wincing a bit. “Yeah?”

  “Two of the guys found the sod hut. Don’t know if that’s much good now, but they said it’s been occupied recently. Food cans, diapers, that kind of thing. Lizzie isn’t there, though.”

  “Good. More evidence. Tell them not to touch a thing.”

  More evidence? He hoped they didn’t need it, that Margolis would pull up at his own front door. It was good, though, that he hadn’t abandoned the girl there. All the good Gage could see just then.

  He wondered how Valerie Brighton was doing inside that house. If she could trust Etta Margolis to cooperate. And how close Guy might have managed to get.

  Three people to depend on, one of whom might not be trustworthy at all.

  Waiting was never easy, even though he’d had to do plenty of it in his undercover days with the DEA. Experience didn’t help, though. Impatience grew and, along with it, inescapable tension.

  * * *

  VALERIE HEARD THE engine in the distance. She had to tell herself that it could be any vehicle, but her heart raced anyway.

  Soon. Very soon.

  She sought internal calm, aware that she might have to deal with Etta, too. Complicating the whole thing.

  She looked at Etta. “He may be coming. Remember, Lizzie first.”

  Etta glared. “You don’t haveta keep telling me.”

  Valerie hoped that was so.

  * * *

  GUY HEARD THE engine, too. He crawled even closer to the house. Adrenaline still spurred him.

  Picking up his binoculars, he looked as best he could down the driveway and saw a truck turn in.

  This was it. Now just let the man get out of the truck with the baby. Let him take Lizzie inside where Valerie was no doubt ready.

  Nearly holding his breath, Guy watched the truck approach. Then he saw Margolis climb out and walk around to the passenger side. The man looked impatient but didn’t look around as if he thought he might be observed. Then he reached inside and lifted out a bundle.

  The bundle started screaming.

  * * *

  VALERIE, PULLING HER pistol out, said quietly, “I’ll be right here, just around this corner.” One of the few corners in this house.

  Etta gave a tight nod but her hand reached out to caress the butt of the shotgun that stood right beside her.

  Valerie felt every muscle in her body tighten with apprehension. If that woman reached for that shotgun, she’d be the first one to go down. The very first.

  Then would come a mess beyond description. Margolis would still have Lizzie. Would he try to run or use the little girl as a shield?

  Be out there, Guy. Be out there nearby.

  * * *

  GUY WAS OUT THERE, all right. As close as he could get without revealing himself. For the first time he wished he had a rifle. A pistol wasn’t nearly as good for aiming. Too easy to miss a target. Too easy to shoot Lizzie.

  Not that he wanted to shoot anywhere near the child. He’d far prefer to charge in there like a raging bull.

  * * *

  THE TRUCK STOPPED in front of the house. Valerie heard a car door slam. Then she heard Lizzie start to cry. Still alive. A breath of relief whispered through her.

  From where she stood, she could still see Etta but not the front door. Her hand tightened on her pistol grip. She released the safety, held the gun in both hands, barrel down. Ready.

  * * *

  MUCH AS PHILLIP MARGOLIS had come to hate the kid who writhed against him and screamed, he still felt a sense of triumph as he approached the front door.

  The latch was still as useless as it had always been, so he simply kicked it open. It wouldn’t matter since he planned to leave with Etta and the brat just as soon as he could get her packed and into the truck. He’d never need that damn door again.

  He immediately saw Etta in the interior gloom. Saw the shotgun beside her.

  “Look what I done brought you, Etta. You don’t wanna be hurtin’ our kid, do ya?”

  Etta, that dried-up woman, shook her head jerkily. “Ours?” she croaked.

  “Yeah, a pretty one, too. ’Cept she won’t shut up. You can shut her up, Etta. You’re the mom now.”

  He walked toward her, holding Lizzie forward for Etta to embrace. She took an unsteady step toward him. He was more relieved than he wanted to admit when she moved away from the shotgun.

  “Is she pretty?” Etta asked, extending her arms.

  “Yeah. Really. But you gotta make her stop cryin’ or I’m ditchin’ her. Up to you.”

  “I’ll take her,” Etta said with another unsteady step. “How’d you get me this baby?”

  Lizzie was setting up her usual ruckus. Just as soon as he got Etta to take hold of this brat, he was going to tell her to pack. And while he waited he was going to step outside again, just to escape that screaming.

  * * *

  VALERIE HAD TENSED until every single muscle in her body felt like overstretched steel. Her hands held the butt of her pistol as she peered around the corner. She needed Etta to get Lizzie clear of Phillip, but as they met with the baby between them, she clamped her teeth together.

  Just get on with the exchange!

  *

  OUTSIDE, GUY WATCHED Margolis disappear inside. The sound of Lizzie’s shrieking tore at his heart. He moved even closer, getting into a position that would allow him to spring at the first opportunity.

  What was going on inside? His heart thudded in his chest like a blacksmith’s hammer.

  * * *

  NOW FIRMLY HOLDING the little girl, Etta stepped away from Margolis. “You poor little baby,” she murmured. Then, “Damn it, Phillip. You don’t know a thing about caring for a child.”

  “I changed her diapers, didn’t I? She won’t eat, neither. You take care of that from now on.”

  Two steps away. Turning her back to Phillip. “I’ll just do that now. You got diapers?”

  “In the truck. But first you get your own stuff together. We’re leaving.”

  Etta turned around again, rocking the baby. “Where to?” Then she started singing a soft lullaby. Lizzie hiccupped and her cries began to ease.

  “Somewhere ain’t nobody gonna find us. Somewhere you can raise that damn kid without interference.”

  “Except you,” Etta said sharply, then resumed rocking Lizzie and singing. Another step away.

  Valerie tried to judge if the two were now separated enough that she could act before Phillip could grab Etta and Lizzie and turn them into hostages.

  One more step, Etta. Please. Just one more step.

  * * *

  GUY WAS AS close as he could get without warning Margolis that he was out here. He wanted to be closer, much closer. But again he had to wait. He figured he must be grinding his teeth to nubs.

  * * *

  FAR ENOUGH, VALERIE DECIDED. And now the quickest way to protect Etta and Lizzie was with her gun.

  Sliding around the corner, gun raised in both hands, she saw Phillip Margolis’s eyes grow wide.

  Then she pulled the trigger. Right in the thigh as she’d wanted. Margolis fell, screaming.

  And Valerie didn’t care if he bled to death.

  * * *

  AT THE GUNSHOT, Guy vaulted from the ground, onto the front porch and inside. Etta stood holding the baby, her eyes tightly closed. Valerie stood in a marksman’s stance, her face white.

  Then he looked down at the man lying on the floor, writhing in pain, bleeding heavily. He keyed his radio. “I need an ambulance at the Margolis place. Now. He’s been shot.”

  Without another word, he went to Valerie and gently lowered her hands, taking the gun from her. Then he wrapped her in his arms.

  “It’s okay, Val,” he said. “It’s okay now.”

  A shudder ripped through Valerie. “He needs a tourniquet.”

  “Like I give a damn.”

  Unfortunately, given the spurt he saw from Margolis’s leg, he knew an artery had been hit. He’d bleed out fast. Hating the world for just an instant, Guy shredded an old sheet to wrap tightly around the guy’s upper thigh.

  “You should’ve hit him in the chest,” he said to Val.

  “Too easy. I want the bastard to suffer.”

  At last she moved, approaching Etta and taking Lizzie into her arms.

  “Lizzie,” she said softly, then began to weep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Guy stepped out onto the front porch and keyed his radio, reaching Gage. “We’ve got her. Lizzie seems okay but needs a look-over, maybe the hospital. Tell May. Send two ambulances. Margolis has been shot in the leg.”

  Then he went back inside to keep an eye on Val. She had to be on a ragged edge, given the past days, the surge of adrenaline that must be draining, given that she had just shot a man. Given that she finally held Lizzie in her arms, apparently safe and sound.

  Two ambulances raced up the rutty drive and paramedics jumped out as soon as they stopped. They attended immediately to Margolis, then put him on a stretcher and carried him out.

  Through it all, Valerie stood holding Lizzie, tears running down her face. She rocked the baby and finally looked at Etta.

  “Thank you.”

  Etta offered a brief nod, then a smile. “Did my heart good to see that man shot. Too bad you want him alive.”

  Guy spoke. “Imagine him spending years and years in prison.”

  Etta’s smile widened. “Might go visit him just to enjoy it. Them other prisoners ain’t gonna be nice to him.”

  “Not when they hear he kidnapped a young child. Even the worst of them have limits.”

  Etta nodded again, then looked at Valerie and Lizzie. “It’s a good thing,” she said presently. “Best damn thing I ever done in my whole damn life.”

  * * *

  THE OTHER TWO paramedics checked Lizzie over head to foot. Valerie didn’t want to let go of her niece but knew she had to. All she could do was shake her head as they uncovered the small child and began to examine her.

  One looked at Valerie. “She needs to go to the hospital. Some dehydration. A bad diaper rash. Maybe underfed.” Then they wrapped the child in a fresh, clean blanket.

  Lizzie had grown quiet, unusual for her with strangers. As if she were too weak to cry anymore. Val drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself, fearing for Lizzie in a new way.

  She turned her attention to Guy. “Let May know.”

  “I’m sure she’s already getting a call.”