Page 48 of Christmas Ransom

“Davy?” Fear made her voice break and tears rush to her eyes. She reached down and picked up the fallen crutch and awkwardly moved out from behind the refrigerator door, through the spilled wine and glass, terrified of what she would find.

The back door stood open to the night. She could see snow melting just inside it where the man had stood. Past it, she saw two sets of tracks that disappeared into the darkness.

“No!” she cried again and launched herself at the door, only to find that she could see nothing beyond the tracks in the light coming from the kitchen. Nor could she hear anything.

She spun around, searching the floor for a moment, praying she wouldn’t find it. But there it was. Blood. Three drops of it, all leading to the back door.

Stumbling into the living room, she searched frantically for her purse and cell phone. She remembered that Davy had brought it in. She looked around, praying that any moment Davy would come through that back door.

Fighting tears of fear and frustration, she spotted her purse and moved quickly on the crutches toward it. She had to toss them aside to get to her purse and the phone inside.

As she was digging for her cell, she heard a noise and looked up. In that instant, she would have done anything to see Davy standing there. Instead, what she saw turned her insides to liquid. To her horror, the blade of the large knife in the hooded figure’s hand caught the light as the hood was thrown back and the blonde aide from the hospital rushed at her.

DAVYFELTTHEsearing pain in his shoulder—but not until he’d run through the fallen snow, chasing the man who’d shot him. He became aware of the cold along with his ragged breaths as he ran. He followed the sound of branches brushing clothing ahead of him and tried to ignore the pain.

The clouds were low, the night black. He couldn’t see movement ahead of him, but he knew he was gaining on the killer. Ahead, he saw a faint light through the pines and realized that the man had veered off to the right—toward the river.

Davy had no idea how far he’d run. It had happened so fast that he hadn’t had time to think when he’d rushed the man, only to have him fire a final shot and turn and run. Davy had felt something smack hard into his left shoulder, but hadn’t let it stop him. This time, he wouldn’t let the bank robber turned killer get away. He was determined to catch this man if it killed him.

He was breathing hard, so at first he didn’t realize that he could no longer hear the man crashing through the pines ahead of him. He pulled up for a moment to listen. That’s when he heard a cry of surprise, followed by a scream that ended abruptly in silence.

Rushing toward the sound, he came out of the pines into the open and stopped as he saw where he was—standing on the cliff above the river. He listened, hearing nothing but his own blood rushing through his veins. He stepped closer to the edge of the cliff, aware of the trampled snow at his feet.

Even in the darkness he could see the sheen of the water’s surface below him and, at its edge, something dark crumpled down there in the rocks. He waited for what he knew was the hooded figure who’d tried to kill them to move as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit 911. The figure didn’t move.

As he turned back toward the house, following his own footsteps through the snow, he realized that his shirt was covered in blood. He began to move steadily, anxious to get back to Carla. An engine revved somewhere in the distance. Surely Carla would stay at the house and call the cops.

He began to move quicker, suddenly afraid, suddenly having doubts. J, whoever he was, was dead, lying at the edge of the river. There was no way the man could have doubled back. But what if the man had had an accomplice at the hospital? Davy began to run. He heard an engine rev. He ran harder. Finally, he heard sirens headed this way.

By the time he reached Carla’s house, he saw the flashing lights of SUV patrol cars pulling into the drive. The back door still stood open and he charged through it. He could hear the sheriff’s deputies knocking on the front door.

Through the doorway, he could see into the living room. His pulse jumped. He saw evidence of a struggle. A lamp lay broken on the floor next to one of Carla’s crutches.

“Carla!” He was calling her name, his voice cracking with fear, as he rushed through the house. “Carla!” Her purse was on the floor by the couch, the contents—including her cell phone—scattered across the floor. The deputies were pounding harder at the front door. He rushed to it, facing his greatest fear.

Carla was gone.

Someone had taken her.

J? But if true, then who was that lying dead at the edge of the river?

The secondJ.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Davy felt as if he were in shock—from the loss of blood, from the loss of so much more. He’d been taken to the hospital, where the bullet had been removed from his upper arm and the wound bandaged.

He was anxious to be released. While his brothers and most of the sheriff’s department were looking for Carla, he had to get out of the hospital so he could find her. Not that he had any idea where to look.

But right now there was a sheriff’s deputy outside his hospital room door, apparently to keep him there. Federal agents were on the way to question him.

The moment Grover walked in, Davy could tell he was angry, demanding to hear what had happened in detail from the beginning.

“This is a waste of time,” Davy had snapped after he told the agents everything that had occurred. “Now can we please find Carla?”

“I’m sure she’s long gone,” Grover said and seemed surprised that Davy was still anxious to leave to look for her. “You don’t get it, do you? The robbery? Judson Bruckner had inside information from someone working at the bank. We know that for a fact. We believe that information came from your girlfriend.”

“You’re wrong. From the very beginning she told you she had nothing to do with it,” Davy snapped. “We were almost killed by that man. You found his body lying down on the edge of the river, right?”

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