His Best Friend's Baby

Chapter Two

THURSDAY 1600 HOURS

After coordinating times and plans with Special Agent Schiff, Matt drove straight back to Castle Ranch. He needed to talk to Deke.

At thirty, Deke Cunningham was one of the most decorated Air Force combat rescue officers alive. His skill with a rifle was legendary. The only thing he did better than shoot was fly a helicopter.

Which was exactly why Matt wanted him on alert for the ransom exchange.

When he got to the hangar, Deke wasn’t there. But at the door to his office, Matt saw something he hadn’t noticed before.

The plaque hanging beside Deke’s office door. It had hung in Rook Castle’s office since the day he’d created Black Hills Search and Rescue, Incorporated. It was small and plain, with a simple message.

IN MEMORIAM

Vietnam Veteran and Combat Rescue Officer

Arlis Hanks, 1944-1990. Our pledge—to honor your bravery by rescuing the innocent.

Matt touched the four signatures that were emblazoned into the bronze. Robert Kenneth Castle, Deke Cunningham, Matthew Parker and William BarkerVick.

Irina must have given it to Deke. Matt nodded to himself. It was fitting.

He found Deke in Irina’s office, sitting with her, Specialist Rafiq Jackson and Aaron Gold near a bank of windows that framed a view of the desolate, magnificent Black Hills. He nodded at Rafe and Aaron, and acknowledged Deke with a brief glance.

Irina smiled and stood to give him a hug. Rook Castle’s widow was as vibrant and lovely as ever. Her blond hair glowed in the sunlight that streamed in the window. But behind her smile and the sparkle in her blue eyes, Matt saw a shadow of grief.

He couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for her to give up searching for her husband. She’d seen him shot, and watched him fall into the Mediterranean Sea. Even so, she’d clung to the hope that because his body had never been recovered, he might be alive.

Now, she’d given up. For everyone who knew her, and who’d supported her efforts to find him, that made it official. Rook Castle was dead.

“Irina,” Matt said. “When you called me the other day, I didn’t get a chance to say—”

She held up a hand. “I know. Thank you, Matt.” A small, sad smile lit her face. “It’s been more than two years. It’s time I stopped living in a fantasy world. What’s important now is rescuing Aimee’s baby. All my resources are available to you.”

He studied her face, wondering if Deke had told her about his theory that Novus was behind the kidnapping. He decided not to mention it. “I wanted to see if Deke could help me out.”

“Of course. You two talk here. I need to check with Pam about my schedule. Rafe, Aaron, walk out with me.”

After Irina left, Matt sat and propped his elbows on the table. He intertwined his fingers. “What’s up with Rafiq? Did you talk to him about Novus?”

“He’s listening in on activity around the Afghan/Pakistan/China borders. Chatter’s way up in the region since Irina stopped searching.” Deke rubbed his face. “Nothing concrete, mostly speculation.”

“I’m glad we’ve got Rafe. It’s good to have someone who speaks the language. Has he heard anything about what Novus is up to?”

“Well, you made big news when you left. Sounds like you’re right. The chatter supports the theory that you left because you found Rook.”

“Hmph. So much for my fifteen minutes of fame. I wish the chatter were right.”

Deke didn’t respond.

“What about you?” Matt asked him. “Are you on a case right now?” he asked.

“Nope. No case. Just hanging. I’d love to be out kicking butt somewhere, but I feel like I need to be here. You know?”

“Irina looks pretty good. How’s she holding up?”

Deke shook his head. “It took a lot out of her to make the decision to stop looking for Rook. All this time she’s lived with the image of him being shot, then disappearing into the Mediterranean. It was awful—” Deke’s voice cracked. “I mean, it had to have been.”

Matt didn’t have to imagine. He had his own night-mares. His dreams were haunted by the sight of Bill Vick spinning helplessly as he plummeted to earth, trailed by the parachute that failed to open.

“What about Aimee?” Deke continued.

“Not good. And I’m afraid I made it worse, showing up like that.” Matt stared at his clasped hands. “With her about to break, and the kidnapper’s demands, I’ve got a real situation brewing. Can you be on alert for the ransom drop?”

“Yeah, sure. When is it? Soon, I hope. There’s a doozie of a winter storm heading this way, and my bird’s not fond of snow.”

“I know. I’ve been tracking the front. I think it’s going to blow in earlier than they’re predicting.”

“You should know. I still say you should hire yourself out to the local TV station as a weatherman.” It was an old joke.

“Hair gel and a blue screen? I’ll do that the day you become a rodeo sharpshooter.” Matt couldn’t help but smile. Then he got back to business. “The ransom drop is scheduled for 1500 hours tomorrow. Here are the coordinates the kidnapper gave us.” Matt handed Deke a scrap of paper.

Deke snagged it and stepped over to an area map hanging on the wall. He tapped the point with his finger. “It’s pretty high up, and isolated.”

“Yeah. I’m going to take one of our Hummers. There’s a maintenance road up the south side. It’ll take at least two hours to get up there.”

“I see it. But if you’re right about the storm…Why don’t I fly you up in the bird? It’d be a lot quicker.”

“Because there’s a complication. The kidnapper demanded that Aimee make the drop herself.”

“The Hummer holds two passengers and it’s heated. Coming back, we may have a baby.”

Deke’s brows shot up. “May? You don’t think your kidnapper is going to turn over the kid?”

“That location gives me a bad feeling. How’s he going to handle a seven-month-old, and make sure nobody gets the drop on him?”

“He’d have to have an accomplice.”

“Right. That plus the storm—I don’t like the odds. That’s why I need you to be available. I want primary and secondary rendezvous points in case something happens and we can’t use the Hummer to get out. Maybe even a tertiary.” Matt paused and rubbed his neck. “The location he’s picked is going to receive the brunt of that storm. He’s got to know that. I have a feeling he’s banking on it to cover his tracks.”

“I’ll have the bird ready to go.”

“If you don’t hear from me, head for the first rendezvous point. Be there by 0800. Here are the times and places I’ve got mapped out.”

“Friday 0800 hours? That’s sixteen hours. You’re planning to ride out the storm up there? You could be blown right off that mountain.”

“Thanks for that image. No. I plan to be back down the mountain in the Hummer with Aimee and the baby, safe and sound. The 0800 rendezvous is if we get caught by the storm or something goes wrong. If everything goes as planned, I’ll call you. It’ll probably be after dark.”

“Just make sure you’ve got plenty of flares.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll have flares. Do these times work for you?”

“Times are fine. And I see you’re planning to move up toward the peak, rather than down.”

“Right. I figure if we can’t ride back down in the Hummer, we need to be heading to higher ground. The storm’s coming in from the west. I’d like to try to stay either ahead of it or above it. Plus, your bird’s not going to like dodging trees, so the fewer the better.”

Deke nodded.

They quickly agreed on two alternate times and places, the second twenty-four hours after the first. Plus a third, twenty-four hours after that, in case the storm stalled.

“One last thing,” Matt said. “Take these coordinates. This is a last-resort location. It’s an hour’s walk south from the Vicks’ cabin.”

“The hunting cabin. I forgot about that place. You think you might end up there?”

Matt shrugged. “It’s good shelter. We might need it, if we have to travel that far.”

Deke stuck the piece of paper in his pocket. “No problem. I’ll hang on to these.”

“Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you.” Matt stood.

“You know there’s another way to handle this.”

“Not really.”

“Sure there is. Leave Aimee out of it. You and I go up in the Hummer, get the drop on the kidnapper and get the baby back safe and sound.”

Matt sighed. “That would work—if one of us could pass for a medium-height, slender female. But there’s another consideration. The baby. If everything goes well, which one of us is prepared to bring back a seven-month-old who needs his mother?”

He opened the door. “Have you ever been between a mother and her child? I’m not telling Aimee she has to stay behind.”

NOW CUNNINGHAM was involved.

He knew them all so well. Of course Cunningham would drop everything to help Parker. They were “brothers,” after all.

It tended to get annoying, listening to the stories of their childhood friendship, and their oath to save innocents just as that broken-down Vietnam veteran had saved theirs.

He hadn’t had time to sabotage Parker’s equipment or vehicle. He’d had to trust Kinnard to handle that part of the plan.

His job was to make sure that when Parker needed help, it wasn’t available. There were two ways he could handle that, but only one was a sure thing.

All he needed were some tools and a little private time.

FRIDAY 1430 HOURS

AIMEE BURIED HER NOSE more deeply into the high collar of her down parka. She’d rolled her balaclava up like a watch cap, ready to pull down over her face if she needed it. The vehicle was heated, but she was still cold.

The chill didn’t come from the dropping temperatures outside, though. It came from her heart. As often as she told herself that William was safe, that the kidnapper couldn’t afford to hurt him if he wanted his money, her heart remained unconvinced.

Matt’s grim expression didn’t help. He looked worried as he maneuvered the Hummer’s steel snow tracks over the rough terrain. He glanced at her. “You okay?”

“Okay?” she croaked, then pressed her lips together. Control, she reminded herself. It’s all about control. She had to hold herself together, for her baby’s sake.

“If you’re cold, there’s a blanket under your seat.”

She gave a harsh little laugh. “You think I’m worried about being cold?”

“Aimee, I know you’re afraid something’s going to happen to William. But I don’t want you to neglect your own health. You’re highly stressed and exhausted. You could become hypothermic without even realizing it. I need to make sure you’re warm and comfortable.”

“Well, don’t. I don’t need to be comfortable—I don’t want to be. I just want to get up there, get my baby back and get home.”

“That’s what I want, too,” Matt said.

She closed her burning eyes. Control. Control. She repeated it like a mantra.

“Dammit!”

She jumped and her eyes flew open.

“Sorry.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I can’t believe I let the kidnapper run the show. I should have jumped in and forced him to do it my way. It’s dangerous for you up here.”

“Where should I be? Back at home, all safe and warm? Waiting? No, thank you.”

“Yes. Back at home, all safe and warm. I don’t like putting you in danger. Plus, with you here, I can’t do everything I’d be able to do if I were alone.”

“Sorry I’m cramping your style.”

“That’s not—” he stopped and his jaw muscle worked. He kept his attention on the barely discernable path before them as the incline grew steeper, and the sky turned increasingly dark and gray.

Where they’d started out, near Sundance, spring was in the air, with new shoots of grass and fresh coverings of moss. As they’d climbed higher, the greenery turned brown, and patches of old snow dotted the ground.

Aimee hunched her shoulders in an effort not to shiver. Matt’s hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. His face was expressionless, but his jaw was clamped tight. He looked the way he had the last time she’d seen him. The day he’d brought her husband’s body home.

That memory spawned others. Like the argument she and Bill had a few days before that fateful day.

“It’s just a weekend, Aimee. A guy trip. You’re starting to sound a lot like my mother.”

Aimee had yelled back at him. “Well, for once I agree with Margo. You have responsibilities here. Have you forgotten that I’m pregnant? That you’re fighting cancer? Why would you want to waste even a weekend? You need to use your energy to get well. I need you to stay with me.”

At that point Bill had gathered her into his arms and kissed her. “I’ll be with Matt. He’s safe as houses. Safer. He never takes unnecessary chances.”

Then he’d looked down at her and a tender solemnity had come over his face. “Don’t ever forget, Aimee. I trust Matt as much as I trust myself. More, maybe. No matter what happens, you can count on him. Ask him anything. He’ll do it.”

Those last words had been prophetic. Bill had asked Matt for something. Matt had obliged. And Bill had died.

The doctors had said it could have been months before the lymphoma took Bill. Long enough for him to know his child. But he’d stolen those last months from her and his son. And Matt had helped.

Then, when Aimee could have used a friend, Matt had disappeared for a year.

Bill had been wrong. She couldn’t count on Matt.

“Aimee, tell me how it happened.”

She started. “What? How it—?”

“The kidnapping.”

“Didn’t Special Agent Schiff tell you?”

He nodded. “But I’d like to hear what you remember.”

Aimee closed her eyes and folded her arms. “I’ve been over it in my head a hundred times. I should have heard him. I should have woken up.” She shook her head. “How could I have slept while someone came into my house and stole my baby?”

“William wasn’t in your room, was he?”

“No. My doctor said that wasn’t a good idea, for either of us. I shouldn’t have listened to her. I should have kept him right beside me.”

“Aimee.” He put a hand on her knee. “Stop beating yourself up. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His hand was warm. She could feel it even through her wool slacks and silk long underwear. She looked down.

He jerked away and gripped the steering wheel. “When did you realize he was gone?”

She was still looking at his hand. It was big and solid, with long, blunt-tipped fingers. “The sun was in my eyes, and I knew I’d overslept. William always wakes me up around five-thirty or so. He’s such a sweet baby.” She smiled. “He wakes up happy. I’ll hear him through the monitor, cooing and laughing—” Her voice broke and her throat closed up.

He shot her a glance. “The sun woke you?” he asked gently.

“It was almost six-thirty. When I realized I hadn’t heard him, I panicked. So many things can happen—”

“What did you do?”

“As soon as I realized I’d slept late, I grabbed the monitor. The camera points right at the head of the baby bed. But I couldn’t see him. His bed looked empty.” She took a shaky breath. “I ran across the hall. His bedroom door was open and I knew I’d left it closed. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.”

She felt the panic rising in her chest, heard it in her voice. Just like then. Had it only been yesterday morning?

“So I called 9-1-1.”

“Schiff said there was no sign of forced entry. You’re sure it was a stranger?”

Aimee frowned at Matt. “What do you mean?”

He spread his hands in a shrug without taking them off the wheel. “I just mean, is there anything specific you’re thinking of when you say it was a stranger?”

She shook her head. “I just can’t—it can’t be anyone I know.”

“Are you usually a sound sleeper?”

“No. Actually, I’ve been having trouble.” Aimee thought about the past seven months since William Matthew’s birth. All the nights she’d lain awake, worrying that something would happen to him if she went to sleep.

Dear heavens, something had.

“What about the evening before?” Matt drove steadily, watching the road and glancing occasionally into the rearview mirror. “Did you drink anything? Take anything to help you sleep?”

“No,” she answered indignantly. “I would never take a chance like that with William. I gave him his bath and played with him a while, and then made myself some herbal tea and went to sleep.”

Matt nodded and drove in silence for a few minutes.

Thoughts and images chased each other helter-skelter through her brain. What had she done? What had been different about that night?

“I didn’t do anything differently,” she said finally. “My life revolves around his, and his routine is pretty well set. I locked up the house and turned out the lights around nine, just the way I always do. I bathed him at the same time as I do every night. We played the same games we always play, then I put him to bed and went downstairs to the kitchen.”

“So anyone who’d been watching the house could know almost to the minute what time you go to bed?”

Aimee nodded miserably. “Yes. My life is that ordinary. I make the same tea, use the same cup. Probably even the same spoon. I can’t think of anything unusual—” She stopped. There had been one thing different.

“What is it?”

“It’s—it’s nothing. It has to be nothing.” She was really twisted—or really desperate—to even be thinking what she was thinking.

“Tell me.”

“This is awful. I can’t believe I’m even saying it.” She took a deep breath, preparing herself for Matt’s ridicule. “The tea? It’s a new blend. Margo bought it for me at the health food store. They told her it was good for insomnia.”

Matt glanced at her, frowning.

“But Matt, I’ve been drinking it every night for almost a week now.”

“Is it helping you sleep?”

“Yes,” she said. She hadn’t really thought about it, but she had slept better this past week than she had in a long time. “It is. You don’t think—?” Her breath hitched. “No. That’s ridiculous. Margo wouldn’t—Not her own—her only grandchild—” She stopped, horrified at her thoughts. During the first moments after she’d realized William was missing, she’d briefly considered that Margo might have planned it, but she’d dismissed it as impossible. She was his grandmother.

Matt glanced at her.

“No. She couldn’t do that—could she?”

“You tell me.”

“But it’s outrageous. Not even Margo—I mean, yes, she’s been complaining about how hard it is for her to get anything done through the Vick Corporation board since Bill died.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Bill left everything to William, just like his dad left everything to him. Remember when Boss Vick died?”

“Sure, that summer after we graduated from high school.”

“Right. Bill was all set to go to MIT. He wanted to get his degree in aerospace engineering, then go into the Air Force, like you and Deke and Rook.”

“Yeah. After his dad died, he changed his mind, and decided to go to the University of Wyoming.”

“Right. To stay close to home. Margo convinced him that he had to run the business. Because when he turned twenty-one, the entire Vick Hotel fortune—and responsibility—fell into his lap.”

“Bill controlled everything—”

Aimee nodded. “And Margo controlled Bill,” she said bitterly.

“And now?”

“Now that Bill’s dead, William stands to inherit all of it.”

Matt looked at her questioningly. “What about until he’s twenty-one? Who did Bill name as William’s trustee?”

“Me,” Aimee breathed.

“So you’re the one who votes the controlling interest. That must rankle Mrs. Vick.”

“I go to the board meetings, but I’ve never opposed a single decision. Why would I?”

“But you could.”

Aimee shrugged. “I suppose. You think she did it, don’t you?”

Matt glanced in the rearview mirror. “Think about it. What does she want? What does kidnapping her own grandson right from under his mother’s nose accomplish?”

“Frightening me?” Aimee cast about for any possible explanation. “Making it look like I can’t—”

“Like you can’t take care of your own child. What would she gain if she had custody of William? She’d retain controlling interest in the corporation. But it’s damn hard to get custody away from the mother. She’d have to prove that you’re unfit. That you couldn’t protect your own child in your own home.”

She moaned under her breath. Hearing those words in Matt’s carefully neutral voice made them sound true.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “But it would explain a lot.”

Aimee’s face felt numb. Her mind felt numb. Intellectually, she understood Matt’s reasoning. If he were right, her mother-in-law was setting her up to take William away from her.

His words echoed in her brain, taunting her with their truth.

You couldn’t protect your own child in your own home.

Chapter Three

Aimee was still reeling, still trying to process the idea that Margo could have kidnapped her baby, when she realized that Matt’s demeanor had changed.

Nothing outwardly was different. His hands still held the steering wheel in a tight grip at ten and two. His expression was carefully neutral, if a bit tight.

But tension suddenly crackled in the air, and it definitely came from him.

He’d gone on alert.

“Matt, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Wrong?” He glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Something’s wrong. I can tell. Did you see something?”

He didn’t reply.

His sudden transformation fascinated and frightened her. Yesterday, he’d been the consummate soldier on a mission. This morning he’d acted more like a protector. She was his charge, his responsibility.

But now in the blink of an eye, he’d morphed from protector back to predator. He was a hunter, and he’d scented his prey.

She opened her mouth to ask him again when, without warning, he veered off the stark mountain road and stopped.

“What are you doing?” Fear raced through her.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “If you hear or see anything while I’m gone, lie flat across the seat. The metal should protect you.”

“Protect me? Matt—?”

“Do you understand?” He glared at her, his tone and the grim set of his face brooking no argument.

“Yes,” she retorted.

He walked over to the edge of the graded area and stopped at the line of trees. For a couple of seconds, he surveyed the mountain road in both directions, then reached for his fly.

Aimee gaped. Was he—? He was! On the way to exchange a million dollars for her baby, he’d stopped to take a leak! She didn’t know whether to scream or laugh. Was he so confident? Or so arrogant?

She reached for the door handle, prepared to jump out and yell at him for wasting time while her child was in the hands of kidnappers. At that instant he turned his head imperceptibly to his right, back the way they’d come. And she got it—his sudden transformation. His razor-sharp alertness. Her impression that she was watching a predator.