Page 55 of A Colby Christmas Rescue

For now, the only choice was to ride this out and see where they landed.

8:15 a.m.

THEDRIVERHADstopped at the end of the long driveway leading away from the Case home and forced Jamie to put a sack over her head as well as one over Lillian’s. Then they’d driven away. Upon arrival at their destination, an older house and certainly nothing in any of the subdivisions near the Case home, they’d been allowed to remove the sacks. A quick glimpse at the digital screen on the car’s dash showed they had driven nearly twenty minutes and approximately twelve miles. The new location had to be something off a different road. Jamie had tried to keep up with the turns. There had been about four. A couple of lefts and a right, possibly a second right or at the very least a slight fork to the right.

The driver had then sequestered Jamie and Lillian to a bedroom inside the new location. Evidently the house was unoccupied since there was no bed, just an old futon. The place appeared to have been empty for a while considering the dust and cobwebs. Not to mention it smelled musty.

“I’m scared.” Lillian hugged herself. “I need to go home.”

Jamie pulled her into her arms and held her close. “I will get you home, Lillian. Don’t worry about that.”

Jamie had seen only one guy. But he had a weapon. Still, he couldn’t be everywhere all the time. All Jamie needed was an opportunity to make a move. She was banking on the idea that Abi would have planted a tracking device on her somewhere. He was too careful—too determined to cover all the bases—not to do so. At least she could hope.

One way or another, Jamie intended to get this child out of danger.

The sound of the guy’s voice drew her to the wall between the bedroom and whatever lay beyond it. She cupped a hand, pressed it to her ear and then to the wall.

“We’re here. Yes.”

He was checking in. If Jamie was lucky, he would give away something about the plan. There had to be a plan.

Another issue she tried not to dwell on was what this situation would do to their timeline. Luke’s face flashed in her mind. How long would it be before whoever had taken Luke would lose patience? Or maybe decide to cut his losses? Her gut clenched at the idea.

Not going there. Not yet.

“We’ll be ready,” their captor said. “Yes. Half an hour. Good.”

Something was happening in half an hour.

Were they moving to a different location?

Jamie couldn’t wait around to see what that would entail. Not to mention there was a strong possibility help would be coming to assist with the move. She needed to get the kid out of harm’s way before any sort of backup arrived. She could not just wait around, assuming Abi would have her location and he or Poe would come to their rescue.

Her odds were far better right now, in this one-on-one situation.

She glanced at the girl. Keeping Lillian safe complicated everything. But if Luke were here, he would tell her to protect the kid at all costs.

Jamie drew in a deep breath and walked to the door and banged on it. “I need the bathroom.”

A cliché request, but if it worked, she could live with it.

After the sound of something metal being handled—a lock maybe—the door opened. The man still wore his mask. That was a good thing. It meant he didn’t want them to be able to identify him. To some degree, this suggested there was a perception that the hostages would at some point be released. Otherwise, what would revealing his face matter?

“Down the hall.” He jerked his head left.

Jamie reached for the girl’s hand.

“No. She stays here.”

Jamie shook her head. “She’s scared. She needs to stay with me. We’re only going into the bathroom.”

“If you give me any trouble,” he warned, “I will kill you both.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not going to give you any trouble.”

Lillian clung to Jamie as they made their way to the end of the hall. Jamie took in all the details she could of their location as they made the short journey. Typical ranch house with a narrow hall. The doors along the hall opened into the three bedrooms—all basically empty like the one they’d been locked in. The final door, at the end of the hall, was a bathroom that sported generic beige tile along with harvest gold fixtures.

“Don’t close the door all the way,” he ordered.

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