Page 58 of Protecting the Newborn

She likely had fought back. And the thug who had her had hurt her. Had probably knocked her unconscious. Or drugged her. Either way, when she came to, she’d try to escape. The kidnapper wouldn’t just let that happen, which meant Gracelyn could end up being killed in the fight. That was why Ruston had to keep the SUV in sight. It was the only way he had now of getting to Gracelyn.

The SUV sped out of town, and the driver must have had the accelerator floored, because Ruston wasn’t gaining on him. Thankfully, he wasn’t losing either. The SUV stayed ahead, tearing across the rural road, and so far there were no other vehicles around. But the road wasn’t straight either. There were plenty of curves just ahead. Since the driver might not be familiar with that, Ruston hoped he didn’t lose control and crash.

Ruston had to hit his brakes when he got to the first of that series of curves, but once he was through it, he immediately sped up again. Keeping the SUV in sight.

He cursed when his phone rang because it took some effort to get it out of his pocket while keeping the cruiser from going off the road. Duncan’s name was on the screen.

“I’m in a cruiser and am tracking your location,” Duncan said the moment Ruston answered it on speaker. “You’re heading toward the interstate.”

“Yeah,” Ruston verified. And that wasn’t good. It’d be much harder to follow the SUV once it was in traffic.

Ruston didn’t add more to that because he had to fight to keep control through another of those curves. Then he cursed when he was through it and saw the SUV. Not on the road but rather turning off onto what appeared to be a ranch trail. That could mean Gracelyn had regained consciousness and was now fighting her captor. Or this could have been the plan all along, for the captor to meet up with someone else.

Ruston followed.

“Keep tracking me,” Ruston told Duncan, and he ended the call so he could focus on his driving.

The cruiser bounced over the uneven rock-and-dirt surface. Ahead of him, the SUV did, too. Then it stopped, and Ruston saw the driver bolt from the SUV and break into a run through the woods.

Ruston braked, bolted from the cruiser and began to run, too. Not toward the driver but to check on Gracelyn. Once he was sure she was all right, then he could go in pursuit.

He hurried to the passenger’s-side door.

And his heart went straight to the ground.

Because she wasn’t there. No one was. The SUV was empty.

He didn’t see any blood, and he certainly hadn’t seen her with the escaping driver, but he fired glances all around in case the thug had tossed her out of the vehicle.

Still, nothing.

Ruston tried to tamp down his fear and kept searching. His heartbeat was drumming in his ears now. He was breathing way too fast. But he still heard a ringing sound. Not his phone. He followed the sound to the driver’s seat of the SUV, where a cheap-looking cell was ringing. A burner, no doubt.

He didn’t have any evidence gloves on him, and it was a risk to touch the phone and contaminate any possible evidence. Still, he knew this call had to do with Gracelyn, so he went ahead and answered it.

“You can save her,” the mechanical voice immediately said. “No other cops. Just you, Ruston. If you want to save her, you’ll come alone.”

He had to get his throat unclamped before he could speak. “Where? Where are you taking her?”

“To the baby farm. Get there fast,” the voice warned him before the call ended.

GRACELYNFOUGHTHERway out of the dream. A nightmare. With images of blood and the sound of gunfire. The crushing sensation in her chest of not being able to breathe.

She forced her eyes open, slowly. She had no choice about that. Her head was throbbing, the pain pulsing through her, and she didn’t want to make any sudden moves. So, she just sat there, glanced around and listened.

She was in a vehicle, belted into the front seat, and her hands were cuffed together at the wrists. That sent a jolt of panic through her, but she tried not to cry out. She didn’t want to make a sound until she had figured out where she was and who had taken her.

The images and memories were all tangled up in her head. Everything swirling. And the pain. Mercy, the pain was still there, too. So, that was why it took long moments for her to latch on to anything. Then it all came together.

And she suddenly remembered what had happened.

The tear gas at the hospital. Being dragged out by a man wearing a mask. Once they were outside, she’d seen the injured deputy on the ground, and she’d managed to break away from her attacker. She ran. For only a second or two, though, before he’d grabbed her by the hair and then slammed her onto the ground.

She’d felt the sharp stab of pain in nearly every part of her body. Then she had fallen and hit her head. After that, everything went dark. Until now. Until she’d woken up in this vehicle. But where was she?

That question quickly faded when another, more important one flashed in her mind.

Where was Ruston?

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