Ten minutes later, T.J. had assembled a backup crew by phone. Thirty hand-picked men were waiting in town, ready to follow at his order. Grady had notified the state authorities. That left one more call to make.
TJ. tracked down Andrew O'Mara, his voice terse.
“Dammit, how did they get past you, McCall?”
“They did. That's all that matters. We're going after them now.”
“What's your plan?”
“Wait till dark. Stay close but not too close.” T.J. stared at the line of mountains to the north. “We know the desert, and they don't.”
“That's an assumption. They could be working with someone local.”
“No one from Almost, I promise you that.” T.J. thought about Tom Stoner, unable to believe he could be involved in kidnapping.
Not that TJ. was taking any chances. He had already told Grady to run the rancher in and hold him until their return, just in case.
“I'm taking the next flight out. I'll give you a number to reach me en route.” O'Mara muttered an oath. “Hold on, McCalL My assistant is waving at me like it's World War III.”
The silence stretched out. TJ. waited impatiently, staring into the shining red ball of the setting sun.
“Andrew?”
The line was dead.
P
ressure throbbed inside Tess's head. She opened her eyes, and nearly gasped at the pain as tight burned past her eyelids. She rubbed her neck, trying to fbcufr her tangled thoughts through the drone of motors and a tilting sensation.
She twisted, only to feel her hands bound tight. Panic engulfed her as die motors abruptly died.
From the silence came drifting bits of conversation. She was certain that one voice belonged to the man who had claimed to be from the television news crew.
She remembered the prick at her arm.
Drugged.
Kidnapped.
The money …
She lay still, giving every appearance of being asleep.
Another voice came, lower and more nasal. “Shouldn't she be coming out from under by now?”
The first man answered. “Anytime now. And we definitely need her conscious.”
“You want me to slap her around?” The man sounded pleased at the thought.
“Just use water. I don't want her to be any more difficult to deal with than necessary.”
Tess forced herself not to move, groaning and refusing to open her eyes when they shook her. Instinct told her to feign unconsciousness as long as possible.
“What about that sheriff? He'll be coining after her.”
“Only if he has some kind of superdog that can track a helicopter over the mountains,” the other man snapped.
“Still, he'll be coming. He or one of the deputies has been with her every day. By now he will have found that officer outside the library.”
“Let diem come. None of them will know where to look. By the time they get trucks out to these canyons we'll have what we want and be long gone. Most people in the area don't even know about this place, so you can stop worrying. You'll get your money.”
The nasal voice cut him off. “So you keep telling me. I haven't seen any of it yet.”
“You will. We all will. Now, stop whining—I have to make a call.”
Tess heard the sound of rustling. Then the man cleared his throat.
“Give me Andrew O'Mara. Tell him it's an emergency.”
There was a pause, broken only by the sound of die wind.
“No, you listen to
me.
It's time to make a deal, O'Mara. You want your sister back, you're gonna have to give us our money. That's right, all of it. A million dollars. You have two hours.”
“Time? That's
your
problem.” There was a baric of laughter, but to Tess it sounded strained. “Talk to her? Sure you can, the very next time I call. Right now you'd better work on getting that cash together. Small bills. I'll give you the drop location when I call back.”
Footsteps crunched over gravel. Hands tightened, pulling her upright and slapping her face. “Wake up, dammit.”
She gave a low groan.
“Still asleep.” It was the nasal voice again.
“The next time I call, he'll demand to speak with her, and I want her conscious.”
She lay unmoving, her palms sweaty, praying they would go away.
“Wake her up.”
A hand clamped down on her neck.
T.J. was fighting impatience as the silence stretched out. What was happening? Had O'Mara turned up some news already?
Finally Andrew cut back onto the line. “Bad news.” His voice was clipped and tight with anger. “These people are well connected, McCall. They had my name and my office number. Here it is: they want their million or they'll kill Tess, and I can't negotiate after a ransom threat. It's against all government policy.” Metal clattered as if a can had been thrown against the floor. “I told them not to freeze the damned account. I told them it would push these people into a corner, and it has.”
T.J. fought for calm despite a surge of rage. “Get someone on the call. It's probably a cell phone, but it could still be tracked.”
“Already done. It's going to take time.”
“Keep them dangling. Tell them the money will be brought in tonight.”
“I know the drill,” Andrew snapped. “And you can
be sure Til make them let me talk to Tess when they call back.”
“Good. Stay on them.” T.J. swept the valley before him. “We're on our way.”
Miguel stopped above a deep wash shaded by cotton-wood trees. The leaves shook like tiny coins in the wind as the wiry man moved slowly, crisscrossing the rocky ground. T.J. paced restlessly, seeing nothing beyond the double tracks of a jackrabbit, but he bit back his impatience, knowing Miguel had good reasons for stopping.
He had thirty men waiting to head out from Almost. At his call they would move instantly.
But T.J. had to wait. The last thing he wanted was Tess caught in the middle of a firefight.
Miguel squatted, scanning the ground. Finally he stood up and pointed. “They came this way, flying low. They were headed northeast.”
“How can you tell?” It seemed like pure imagination to T J. Miguel was good, but no one was
this
good.
“The tracks tell me that the animals fled. All the prints move in the opposite direction and they are made at the run. Only three things can do that. Floods, fire, or something that terrifies with deafening noise, like a helicopter.” He swept his hand to the right. “The bobcat moved here, and a rabbit ran beside it, unharmed. Only great fear would cause such a thing.” He moved higher up the slope and beckoned to T.J., who saw running sets of double oval tracks.
“Javelina. Three or four of them.”
Miguel nodded. “Running. Very frightened.” He crouched, fingering the willowy bough of a young mesquite. “See how the branch is broken in many places? A great wind can do this, or blades that cut fast They would also send the sand in shifting patterns like water.”
T.J. looked down and saw just such a pattern on the sand before them. His admiration for Miguel's skills grew tenfold.
Back in the Blazer, T.J. gunned up the slope, sand spinning angrily beneath his wheels. At the top, he slowed, feeling his first hint of optimism since he'd discovered Tess was missing.
He knew the place before them. He recognized the dark walls across the distant cliffs, even in the gathering twilight. Near the base of a granite outcropping he saw the glint of metal. He looked at Miguel, who nodded.
“We will find her, my friend. Soon it will be twilight, and I know a dozen ways in. No one will hear us.”
“There.”
T.J. and Miguel were crouched behind a gravel ridge banked by dense scrub. Below them stretched the undulating waves of the foothills with the ancient ruins like a dark scar in the gathering shadows; They could make out activity near the base of the canyon.
T J. pulled out his rifle, focusing through die night vision sight. “There are two men by the canyon wall beside the helicopter.” He scanned the scene twice and cursed. “I still don't see Tess,”
Miguel stared for a long time in silence. “She is
there. I sense her.” He pointed carefully. “There is a small path from the left. It follows the old ruined walls.”
TJ. studied the slope with the night vision sight. “I see it.”
“You will take that path. In the darkness, you will not be noticed.”
TJ. turned his head to study his companion. “What about you?”
“I will come from the opposite side. It is better that we go separately. If one of us is caught, the other will find her.”
After a long time TJ. nodded. He didn't want to think about Tess huddled in the darkness, alone and frightened. She must know that he would follow her, no matter what.
He prayed he was in time.
Ruthlessly, he forced his thoughts to the task before them, knowing it was the only way he could help her. The shadows were already shifting into darkness as he slid his rifle, phone, and canteen into a black pack. Over his shoulder he heard a soft sound, almost like the whisper of sand in the wind.
He turned sharply. “Miguel?”
There was no answer. Only the mesquite fronds moved, ghostlike in the night. The spot where Miguel had been standing was empty.
Through the trailing greenery of the mesquite, TJ. thought he saw a brown shape lope up the wash toward the cliff.