Rita shoved the SUV into reverse, backed up, put it in drive, and got moving. “Billy, are you sure you're okay?”

  I'm as good as new,” Billy said and slowly took a sip of his coffee. “Better than new, really,” he continued. “You see, when I hit my head...well, some memories were jarred loose.”

  Rita glanced at Billy. Rhonda quickly leaned forward. “Billy?” Rhonda asked.

  Billy inhaled. “Ron Bufford was the boy I slugged in that old gold mining town in Nevada,” Billy announced. “That boy was mighty upset with me for saying howdy to his girl and tried to slug me. He missed...and I reckon I didn't.”

  “Rhonda,” Rita said.

  “I'm on it,” Rhonda said. She leaned back, grabbed a cell phone out of her purse, and called Brad.

  “Any more names?” Rita asked Billy in an urgent voice.

  “Samantha Wakes,” Billy said. “That girl told Ron Bufford to basically eat dirt after I plowed him down. I remember her...I can even see her face in my mind right now. She was a pretty little thing with red hair...not long red hair...and she had a good way about her, for a city girl.”

  “City girl?” Rita asked.

  “Seattle,” Billy nodded. “Ron Bufford was from Seattle, too. Samantha told me Ron's folks owned a business with her folks.”

  “So much for me hypnotizing you,” Rhonda said calling Brad. “Looks like that bump on the head did the trick.”

  “Oh, I couldn't be put to sleep with a watch any old how,” Billy said feeling certain about it.

  Rhonda heard Brad answer her call before she could reply to Billy. “Brad, it's Rhonda Knight. I have some new information.”

  Rita glanced at Billy. “What else do you remember Billy?”

  Billy leaned back in his seat, took a sip of coffee, and thought. “Well, after I knocked Ron down, I walked Samantha back to her folks. Boy, was her folks mad at me...called me a few choice words and chased me off.”

  “What about Ron's parents?” Rita asked.

  “Ron's folks weren't around,” Billy explained. “Samantha's parents had drove her and Ron to the gold mining town for the day.”

  “What happened after Samantha's parents chased you off?” Rita asked.

  “I wandered back to an old mine that my own family was at with a bunch of other people,” Billy told Rita. “When we left I didn't see Samantha or Ron anywhere in sight. Figured they left...never heard them again...never thought much of it, either.” Billy took another sip of coffee. “I reckon if I'm being ordered back to Nevada like a cow in a slaughter line...well, it has to be Ron Bufford doing the ordering. He threatened to kill me once...reckon he's carrying out his word.”

  Still raining, Rita pulled into a gas station, drove up to a set of old gas pumps stained by farm field dirt, hot summers, cold winters and time, and parked. “Okay, Billy, before we get any further down the road we're going to sit tight in this little town and see what Brad finds for us, okay.”

  Billy checked his watch. “We can't sit still for too long,” he warned. “We still got a good ways to drive before we reach Nevada.”

  “Before we reach Nevada,” Rhonda told Billy, “we need to come up with a plan of action.”

  Rita agreed. “We have a name, Billy,” she said in a voice straining to sound positive. “We have a name that can possibly open the right doorway for us.”

  Billy checked his watch again. “I reckon we got time to spare,” he said without realizing that Ron Bufford was only a half hour behind him and closing in fast. “I reckon we can talk for a bit. Besides, Chester needs to stretch his legs a little more.” If Billy had known what events were going to take place that day he would have told Rita to get moving instead of sitting still at a gas station.

  Chapter Five

  After Rita filled up the gas tank she pulled around to the side of a white and red gas station, parked beside a 1985 Chevrolet Caprice station wagon covered with farm dirt, and looked around. “Okay, we should be okay to talk here.”

  “Let me take Chester for a walk first,” Billy said in a low voice. Rhonda was still on the phone with Brad and he didn't want to be rude.

  “Hurry, okay,” Rita pleaded.

  “Sure thing,” Billy promised. He hopped out, grabbed Chester, and walked the dog behind the gas station and out into a wide open farm field. “Sure is a gloomy morning, huh?” Billy asked Chester. Chester glanced up at a low, dark, gray sky, flapped his ears at the heavy drizzle, and tucked his head down against the cold winds. “Yep, couldn't have said it better myself,” Billy said. “I mean, I like cold weather and rainy days and all...but I just can't shake the feeling that we're walking under the eyes of a vulture.” Chester lifted his eyes up at Billy and then looked out at the farm field. Way off in the distance he spotted a farmhouse and barn sitting like a tiny speck of sand. “I know,” Billy said, “I wish we were back home on our own farm.” Chester flapped his right ear. Billy agreed, took in a deep breath of cold air, and continued to walk further and further out into the farm field.

  Back at the SUV Rita decided to get out and stretch her legs. “I think I'll go inside and buy some more water for the road,” she told Rhonda.

  “And a few sports drinks...and maybe some candy bars,” Rhonda said in a quick voice and went back to talking to Brad. “Wakes, Brad...not bakes….W..A..K...E...S...”

  Rita knew her twin sister had her hands full talking to Brad on a cell phone that was having hard time picking up a clear signal. She closed the driver's side door, spotted Billy way off in the distance, and walked away from the SUV. “At least we seem to be making progress,” she said turning the corner of the gas station and began walking up to the front door. The cold winds and hard drizzle splattered her face, making Rita wish she had put on her coat. “I hope this weather breaks,” she said pulling open a glass door and stepping into a small store that smelled like farm dust, cherry slushies, coffee and disinfectant spray all mingled together. The store was spotlessly clean, bright, and—unfortunately—very chilly. Rows of wooden shelves holding different items were neatly lined up, facing a wooden counter holding jars of beef jerky, gum, and maps.

  “Help you?” a voice asked.

  Rita turned her head, saw an old woman with curly gray hair standing behind the wooden counter chewing on a peppermint candy cane, and said hello. “I need to buy some water, some sports drinks and a few candy bars for the road.”

  The old woman pointed to the back of the store where all the drinks were kept in a cooler. “Drinks are back there and candy bars are on aisle 2,” she told Rita in a voice that wasn't very friendly.

  “Thanks,” Rita said and walked to the back of the store and began searching for various things for her sister. As she did a black truck pulled into the parking lot. Rita didn't see the black truck and neither did Billy. Billy was facing the farmhouse and barn off in the distance. Rhonda, because she was busy talking to Brad, also didn't notice the truck pull in. Ron Bufford noticed Rita's SUV, though.

  “Why, hello,” Ron grinned, spotting Billy standing way off in the distance. He eased his truck to the side of the store, out of sight from Rita's SUV, eased out like a slimy tick, and quickly jogged around to the back of the gas station. “Ah...so it is you,” he said studying Billy through a pair of binoculars. Billy, unaware that he was being watched by a deadly killer, kept his eyes on the farmhouse in the distance, wishing they were back home. Ron grinned, eased back to his truck, put the binoculars away, and, on silent feet, crept up to the front door. He spotted Rita standing at the coolers. “Ah,” he said in a pleased voice, “maybe a new doorway has opened for me?” Ron eased away from the see through door. “Have to hurry,” he said, pulled out an ugly black gun from the pocket of his leather jacket covering a body that had been altered by medicine and doctors to appear strong, muscular, and dangerous, and crept over to the opposite side and focused on Rita's SUV. “Perhaps its time to shake Billy up a little...to let him know who really is in charge,” Ron grinned, and without saying another word, thundered toward the SUV on lightning fast legs.

  Rhonda, unaware that Ron was racing toward her, continued to fuss with Brad and her cell phone. “Brad, I can barely hear you. I--”

  Ron reached the SUV, yanked open the back passenger door, and shoved his gun into Rhonda's face before she could finish her sentence. “Out,” he demanded.

  Rhonda froze. Her eyes slid upward and looked into the face of a man with messy black hair and a face that reminded her of a mafia low life who went around killing people. She expected to hear the words 'Out or I'll whack you' leave Ron's mouth. “I--”

  Ron snatched the cell phone out of Rhonda's hand, turned it off, and then pulled her out of the SUV. “This way,” he growled, stuck his gun into Rhonda's back, and forced her to walk behind the gas station. Billy, bless his heart, had no clue what was happening. He was walking further and further into the farm field with Chester. Poor Chester, because he was so worried about his friend Billy, didn't see Ron holding Rhonda hostage. “Hurry,” Ron hissed. He pushed Rhonda all the way to his truck. “Inside,” he said.

  “Inside?” Rhonda asked, feeling panicked but forcing her voice to remain calm. Surely her sister would appear at any second and save her.

  Ron pointed at his truck. A metal, truck bed cover covered the back of the truck, secured down with strong bolts, creating a small prison. “Inside,” he growled, threw out his left hand, and pulled open the tailgate. “Now!”

  Rhonda stared into Ron's eyes. She saw a soulless killer who was prepared to gun her down. “Okay, okay,” she said and, reluctantly, crawled up into the bed of the truck, made her way under the metal bed covering, and looked behind her.

  “Give me your gun,” Ron ordered. Rhonda hesitated and then handed over her gun. Ron snatched the gun from her hands and slammed the tailgate shut and locked it. “Good,” he said and ran around to the driver's side, jumped behind the wheel, and drove off without being seen. Back inside the store Rita found a few sports drinks she thought Rhonda might like, chose a few waters, carried the drinks up to the front counter, and then went to explore the candy bars, unaware that her sister had been kidnapped.

  The old woman, still chewing on her peppermint, paid no mind to the black truck she had seen ease into the parking lot, park, and then drive away. The building was off a main road full of vehicles from all over the country. She had seen her share of good, bad, and worse at the gas station and had learned to just take one day at a time and not freak out over every strange happening. After all, after you've worked at one place for over thirty years you learned to take things with a grain of sand. “Where are you from?” she decided to ask Rita, hoping to hurry the woman up. It was time for her cigarette break.

  “Uh...we're driving west,” Rita replied, keeping her eyes on a row of candy bars, not wanting to give specific information to a stranger.

  The old woman checked the candy cane she was chewing on. The candy cane wasn't helping curb her nicotine cravings. “Where west?” she asked becoming impatient for a smoke.

  Rita grabbed four Almond Joy candy bars, made her way back to the counter, and paid for her items. “Gold country,” she said in a quick voice. “We're going to do some sightseeing.”

  The old woman rung up Rita's items. “Okay,” she said, quickly bagged the items, took Rita's payment, and nodded. “Have a good morning.”

  “I will,” Rita said, picked up a paper bag full that could barely hold the items she had bought, and hurried back outside. “What a rude person,” she mumbled, turned the corner of the station, spotted the SUV, and walked to the backdoor. “Rhonda, honey, open your door,” Rita called out. When Rhonda didn't answer Rita immediately knew something was wrong—her heart felt a dark shadow squeeze it. “Rhonda?” she called out, slowly put the bag down onto the ground, and opened the backdoor. Rhonda was missing. However, Rhonda's cell phone and purse were both laying on the back seat blinking with a missed call from Brad. Rita jerked her head, yanked her gun free from an ankle holster, and looked around. Billy still had no idea what was happening. “Bathrooms are inside...I would have seen her,” Rita said in a panicked voice. She ran began searching around the SUV. She spotted footprints in the dirt and without wasting a second followed. “Two sets...one is Rhonda’s...” Rita whispered in a trembling voice, trailing the footprints behind the gas station on frantic legs. “How...how could this have happened?” she asked, turned the corner of the gas station, ran up the side, and slid to a stop once the footprints ended on hard, wet pavement. “No,” she cried, raced back to her SUV, and began yelling at Billy. “Billy! Billy! Get back here! Billy!”

  Rita's words floated through the cold wind, reached Billy's ear, and grabbed his chin. Billy turned around and saw Rita waving at him with panicked arms. “Come on boy, something is wrong,” he said and began running back toward the gas station as fast as his legs would take him. Chester followed right beside Billy, flapping both of his ears with worry. When Billy reached the SUV he saw Rita standing near the hood with tears falling from her eyes. “What's the matter...where's Rhonda?”

  “Gone,” Rita cried. “I don't know how...but she's been taken!”

  “Taken...by who?” Billy asked in a confused voice. Then his mind let him know exactly who took Rhonda. “Ron Bufford...that coward!” he yelled and kicked the ground.

  “I was just inside for a few minutes...how?” Rita demanded.

  “I was out in that field staring off at a farmhouse...” Billy kicked himself. “I shouldn't have walked off so blasted far.”

  Rita wiped at her tears. “He couldn't have gotten far. Let's go!”

  “You bet.” Billy threw Chester into the back seat, jumped into the front, and buckled up just as Rita threw the SUV into reverse, sped backward, jerked the gear into drive, and sped off like a race car driver preparing to finish his last lap. Billy grabbed the dashboard and held on for dear life. “Big truck!” Billy yelled and saw a bright orange semi driving down the main road. Rita sped out in front of the truck and kicked the gas. The truck driver slammed on his brakes, nearly slid off the road, and blared his horn at Rita. Rita didn't notice.

  “He couldn't have gotten far,” Rita insisted and sped up to ninety miles per hour, passing one slow moving car and truck after another.

  “Uh...what kind of vehicle are we looking for?” Billy asked, bracing himself for a terrible wreck.

  Tears flooded from Rita's eyes. “I don't know...but I'll know once I see it….Rhonda and I...we sense each other, Billy...we feel other’s hearts...I'll know...I have to know.”

  As Rita sped down the road with tears in her eyes, Ron pulled into the Cracker Barrel parking lot, parked between a red pickup truck and a gray SUV, and grinned. “I'll let my guests get ahead of me a ways and then make a call,” he said, leaned behind him, and slid open a small metal door. “Hello in there,” he said chuckling.

  Rhonda feeling like a trapped animal, saw Ron's deadly eyes appear. She had nowhere to run to and no weapon to use. The bed of the truck was as clean as a whistle. “What do you want?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound brave and angry, even though she felt terrified. Cop or not, when a woman is kidnapped she feels terrified.

  “Bait,” Ron hissed, staring at Rhonda with vicious eyes. “You see, I ordered Billy to return to Gold Peak, but I wasn't entirely sure he would mind. Even if he did, I felt he would definitely try to trick me. That's why I had him bring you and your sister along. I needed all of my foes in one location.” Ron lifted his eyes, searched the wet parking lot, and focused back on Rhonda. “I didn't need any...unpleasant surprises waiting for me. My plan was to ambush you right before you arrived at Gold Peak, kill off you and your sister, and take Billy captive. A very long, hot, dreary road leads to Gold Peak with nothing in between but raw land. But first--”

  “You had to make sure Billy was actually driving to Nevada,” Rhonda snapped at Ron.

  “I've been trailing you,” Ron calmly said. “The tracking device I put on the SUV has been working splendidly. I wasn't sure if Billy was going to take his truck or not, so I put a tracking device on several different vehicles. It pays to be careful.”

  Rhonda stared at Ron, stared into his cold, vicious, eyes, and realized that she was dealing with a monster who was way ahead of Billy in the game. Ron Bufford, she realized, was a man determined to punish his foes and was well prepared to do so. “We're in trouble, sis,” she whispered. Rita didn't hear Rhonda. She was speeding far, far away from her.

  Ron grinned. “But now,” he said, “maybe I won't carry out my ambush. You may be the perfect piece of bait I need to force Billy into the gold mine. I would rather Billy walk into that place on his own two legs rather than me forcing him. It's far, far, sweeter that way.”

  Rhonda closed her eyes. “Sis, we're in big trouble,” she whispered again as Ron stared at her with a hideous grin on his face—a grin that said everything she needed to know: Billy Northfield was going to die.

  Rita heard Rhonda's cell phone ring. “Grab the phone, Billy,” she said speeding past a bright green semi as the windshield wipers clacking back and forth, fighting heavy rain off like a brave warrior.

  Billy leaned into the backseat, spotted Rhonda's cell phone, picked it up, and checked the incoming call number. “Don't recognize the number.”

  “Hand me the phone, please,” Rita begged. Billy handed it to Rita. “Hello?” Rita answered the call, forcing her voice to sound calm even though she was a wreck.

  “This may sound like an old movie line,” Ron said, “but if you ever want to see your sister alive again you'll do exactly what I tell you.”

  “And this may sound like an old movie line...but if you hurt my sister I'm going to kill you!” Rita snapped.

  Ron gritted his teeth. He didn't like being threatened. “Watch your tongue or else,” he warned.

  Rhonda stuck her ear to the little metal door and listened to Ron talk to her sister. So far the truck hadn't moved, which meant Ron was still parked in the Cracker Barrel parking lot. “Don't play his game, sis...be smart,” Rhonda whispered her thoughts.