'I'm taking Devon and Ned to the Nevada ranch. When you finish up, I want you there, too.'
'I'll be there… after I find Fraser.' She paused. 'There's no sign of him yet.'
'Bridget.'
'I have to make sure, Marrok.' She hung up.
And risk getting her throat cut while she searched for him, Marrok thought in frustration. Well, he could do nothing now. He had to trust that she'd be all right.
He dialed Walt Franks to tell him to find a place for the he li copter to pick them up somewhere between here and Denver.
'I PUT THE PIG IN THE VAN earlier. You round up the other animals,' Bridget said to Larry Farland as she stuffed her phone in her jacket. 'I'll take care of the housekeeper.'
'Right. I saw three dogs down at the paddock.' Larry motioned to two of the team to follow him and disappeared around the corner of the house.
Bridget whirled and went up the steps to the kitchen door. Get it over quick. She wished to hell she had a sedative or chloroform, but they'd moved too fast to get any supplies when Marrok had called. She'd just have to make it fast.
Janet McDonald was standing at the stove with her back to Bridget when she quietly opened the door.
'Is that you, Nick?' Janet's gaze never left the pot of stew she was stirring. 'You might as well sit down and have some lunch. Though you don't deserve it. It was careless leaving that gate open. Did you find the donkey?'
'No, he didn't.'
Janet stiffened, then looked over her shoulder. 'What the dev il are you doing here? Don't you kids believe in knocking?'
Though she was twenty-five, it wasn't the first time Bridget had been mistaken for a teenager. It didn't matter. Sometimes her small stature and baby-smooth skin came in handy. People usually trusted in the innocence of youth. She smiled gently. 'I did knock. You must not have heard me.'
The woman's eyes narrowed on her. 'Nothing's wrong with my hearing. What do you want?'
Bridget could practically feel the other woman's tension. She had carefully kept any hint of aggression out of her demeanor, yet the housekeeper was sensing a threat. 'I'd like you to go with me. Something's happened. Devon needs you.'
'And you're a lying bitch. If Devon needed me, then she'd call and tell me so. Get out.'
This was not going to be easy. Marrok had said to be careful. How to do it without hurting her?
'Is that her dog, Gracie?' Bridget asked as she came toward her. Gracie was a piece of cake. She wanted to love everybody. Her tail thumped wildly, and she ran toward Bridget. 'Nice pooch.'
'She's okay. No taste in people,' Janet said. 'I told you to leave. I'm not buying what you're selling.'
'I'm sorry I intruded.' She was standing next to the woman now. She was wishing again they'd had time to pick up an anesthetic. This was not going well. One more try. 'I'm no threat to you. It's really best if you come with me.'
'I'm the only one who knows what's best for me.' The housekeeper stared her coldly in the eye. 'You look all fresh-faced and butter could melt in your mouth. But my ex-husband used to bring home sweet-faced little foxes like you, and I know what's behind that smile. What are you up to?'
Dammit, Bridget didn't have time to try to persuade her. She started to turn away. 'If you want me to go, then I'll-' She whirled back, with her hand arcing in a karate blow to the woman's neck.
But Janet blocked her hand and backhanded her across the face.
Dear God, she was fast.
Bridget dove for her legs to bring her down.
And felt hot stew splashing down her back as Janet knocked the pot on top of her.
Pain. Ignore it. Bring her down.
Forget being careful. She punched her in the stomach.
The housekeeper gasped and staggered back.
Bridget jumped up and brought down the side of her hand in the karate chop that had been blocked before.
The woman crumpled and fell to the floor.
Bridget was panting as she looked down at her. Good God, the woman was tough. The re sis tance had been a surprise.
A painful surprise. Her burned back was stinging from the hot liquid of the stew.
Forget it. No time. They had to get the woman bound and in the truck. She took the cord from her pocket and quickly tied Janet's hands behind her back. Gracie was sitting, looking at her in bewilderment. 'It's okay. I know you're confused. You got all those good signals from me, then your friend is hurt.' She put her hand on the dog's forehead. 'It's what should be happening. Everything is fine, Gracie.' She got to her feet. 'Come on, we'll take you to Devon.'
Larry was loading the dogs into the van when she opened the door. 'Take Gracie up front. She's nervous.'
'The housekeeper?'
'In the kitchen. Be careful with her. She's a tiger.'
'So I see.' Larry was looking at her soaked shirt and red arms. 'Are you okay?'
She nodded. 'Just get out of here. You have ten minutes.'
'We'll be out of here in five.'
'Good, I'll see you back at the motel where we're supposed to pick up Gilroy.' She started for the woods. Then she had a thought and said over her shoulder, 'The parrots. They have to be somewhere in the house. Be sure to get them.'
'For God's sake, the van will look like Noah's ark.' Larry sighed as he ran up the steps and into the house. 'I'll go after them now.'
Larry would be true to his word, Bridget thought, her eyes on the woods ahead. He was a good man and he'd see that the farm was deserted before Danner's men got there.
Fraser had been a good man, too.
She was already thinking past tense. Don't give up.
There was still a chance.
She could be wrong.
She wasn't wrong.
She found Fraser on the side of the path only a hundred yards from the tree line. His eyes were open and staring sightlessly up at the sky. There were five bullet wounds in his body, and the last had been the fatal one. It had pierced his heart.
A DOG WAS whining somewhere…
Sad…
Why didn't someone stop it? Devon wondered. All it took was a loving stroke, a word…
Whining. Closer.
She would have to do it herself.
She forced herself to open her eyes.
Ned. His silky black head was lying on her bed, and his brown eyes were only a foot from her face. Wise eyes. Worried eyes. 'It's okay,' she whispered. She reached out a hand and rubbed the spot between his eyes. 'What's wrong?'
'You didn't wake up soon enough for him.'
Her gaze flew from Ned to the man sitting in the easy chair across the room, legs stretched out before him. Close-cut dark hair, high cheekbones, and an air of contained intensity.
Marrok.
Shock rippled through her.
She jerked upright on the couch as memory came flooding back to her. 'My God, what the hell have you done?'
'Kidnapping?' He got to his feet, and she was once more aware of that catlike grace she'd noticed when she'd first met him. 'I guess it could be termed that. I just did what I had to do to keep you alive.'
