Page 86 of Tempting Fate
Raylene did what she was told and tried to focus on her surroundings instead of the burning pain in her cheek. She thought she could smell the lake, but the trees made it difficult to see. There was more snow on the ground here than there’d been at Sierra Heights, but Raylene chalked that up to the area not getting much sunlight. It didn’t seem as if they’d climbed any higher into the mountains. By Raylene’s estimation, they’d driven less than fifteen minutes, and, given the rugged terrain, they couldn’t be far from where they’d started.
Tiny jabbed her in the back, indicating that she should follow Stringy and Ferret, who had disappeared through a break in the brambles. There was an old blue Chevy Impala parked in front of a shack so rundown Raylene was surprised it was still standing. Stringy opened the front door, and it was just as bad on the inside. Exposed siding where electrical wires poked through, floors that had been eaten down to the foundation by critters or termites, and a ceiling where you could see daylight.
Despite the cabin’s condition, the trio had made themselves right at home. An open can of Vienna sausages sat on a three-legged table and a couple of bedrolls lay on the floor. There was a pile of equipment in the corner, which included her pickax.
“Sit.” Tiny pushed her into a folding chair.
Ferret swiped the can of sausages off the table as if Raylene, in the midst of fearing being murdered—or worse—would find them so overwhelmingly irresistible she’d gobble them up. The idiot should be more concerned about the pickax. It wasn’t a match for the gun, but she could do some real damage with it—if she could only reach the handle.
“We need those numbers,” Tiny said, and Raylene squinted with confusion. “Did you hear me, Blondie? We need the numbers.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you, my boyfriend has the map. He can drop it off, or meet you somewhere with it.”
This time, Tiny pressed the muzzle of the handgun into Raylene’s forehead. “You’re not listening, Blondie. We’re not calling your boyfriend. Give us the numbers.”
“I honestly don’t know what numbers you’re talking about.”
“The numbers on the fucking map.” Stringy pulled Raylene out of the chair and slammed her against the door. “We know you got to it before we did. We spent all night digging, wasting our goddamn time, and I’m sick of freezing my ass off in this piece-of-shit shed. So stop dicking us around and give us the damn numbers. By now you’ve memorized them, so stop with the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ because we both know that you do.”
Suddenly, she remembered the chicken scratch at the bottom of the map, the scrawl she and Gabe had thought were meaningless doodles. But what did that have to do with anything? Longitude and latitude? Some sort of a location key?
“All I have is the map my father left me. If you say there are numbers on it, I believe you. But I never paid any attention to them. Even if I had them, the authorities are looking for me. They’ll stake out the property where the gold is; you can’t go back there without getting caught. Your only hope is to let me go.”
Tiny laughed. “Either you’re a good actress or you’re the dumbest blonde I ever met.” She pushed Raylene back into the chair and stuck her face so close their noses were almost touching. “We already have the gold, we just need the numbers. We couldn’t find them in the ground where they were supposed to be buried with the map. So give them up. Now!”
“What do you mean you have the gold?” Raylene didn’t care. At this point they could have everything she owned as long as she walked away from this alive. But she was so confused she didn’t know how to help herself.
“Enough of this bullshit,” Stringy said, and belted Raylene in the side of the head. “I’m going to keep hitting you until you give us the numbers. When I get tired of that, I’m going to start shooting. First your toes, then your fingers.”
He slugged her again, this time so hard it knocked her out of the chair. She was starting to feel dizzy and nauseous, like maybe she had a concussion.
“All right, all right.” She held her head. “I’ll give you the numbers, but you have to give me some kind of guarantee that you’ll let me go.”
Stringy pulled his foot back. It was the last thing she saw before everything went black.
Chapter 21
It amazed Gabe how fast everyone had come together to organize, but he was afraid it wasn’t fast enough. According to what he’d learned from Harper, Raylene’s captors hadn’t done anything to hide their identities. As soon as they learned Raylene didn’t have the map, they’d have no further use for her. Gabe knew what that meant, and it made him shudder. He’d never felt more powerless than he did now.
The worst part was they could be anywhere. He figured they had at least a forty-minute lead time, and no one knew what direction they’d gone. Their only hope was that they’d stayed in the area.
“We’re trying to locate her position through the GPS in her truck,” Rhys said. “Unfortunately, it’ll take a little time.”
“We don’t have time.” Gabe felt his shirt sticking to his back. It was thirty degrees out and he was sweating. Extractions were his specialty, but for the first time in his life the stakes were so high he was filled with a paralyzing fear. “Let me talk to Harper.”
“Gabe, she told us everything she knows.” Rhys paced the floor. Every one of his officers had been called in, including Jake. Despite Jake’s issues with Raylene, he hadn’t balked at working the case.
It was a small-town department, but Rhys and his people were pros.
“Chief.” Connie popped her head into Rhys’ office. “Clay and Lucky are in the lobby. They want to head up a search and rescue. What do you want me to tell them?”
“Send them back.”
Rhys waited for them to file in and closed the door. “I appreciate your offer, fellas, but this is a police operation.”
“I thought I’d take the plane up and see if I can spot her truck.”
Gabe knew Clay was a former Navy fighter pilot and owned a couple of planes. He was all for the idea. It was better than nothing, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass about protocol—not when Raylene’s life was in danger. “I think he should do it.”
