Page 66 of Waiting for Devon
“What does that mean?” Jack asked.
The detective looked Jack straight in the eye. “You don’t want to know.” He rose from his chair. “Look, return to the ranch. See if Walton and Brown are there. Call me immediately if they are but don’t let on that you suspect them. In the meantime, I’m going to try to track their cell phones. If they’re not at the ranch, I’ll send officers out to search the bunkhouse. I assume they live on the premises?”
“Yes, Detective,” Reed answered.
“Good. I’ll also assign cops to question their family members and friends. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find out where they have taken Dr. Brooks.” He met their concerned gazes. “Don’t worry. We’re going to catch these guys. If they contact you with a demand for money, let me know.”
Reed promised, and he and Jack left the station. As they settled in Reed’s truck, he asked, “Where can I drop you?”
“Oh, you’re taking me to the ranch. I’ll be yourguestuntil we find my ex-wife.”
Reed rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”
“Nope. I’m your shadow. When we get to the ranch, let’s check out the bunkhouse for those two goons who nabbed Devon.”
“As if I needed to be reminded,” Reed mumbled.
Jack let out a short, grim laugh.
Devon fought toopen her eyes, as heavy as lead. Engulfed in complete darkness and silence, she closed them again and succumbed to the pull of lethargy. Her brain shut down, her senses unable to function.
Time passed. A bright pinpoint of light penetrated the darkness and forced Devon to rouse to consciousness. She blinked at the invasion, and when her eyes adjusted to the light, she focused on her surroundings. She became aware that she lay upon a dirty mattress and that her hands and feet were bound with thick rope. Her heart rate kicked up as she examined her body for signs of sexual assault. Devon’s panic decreased somewhat when she realized her clothes were still intact. So, she hadn’t been violated. A gag prevented her from making any sound other than grunting.
Her gaze traveled around the room. In one corner she spotted a toilet covered in dark masses of filth. Flies buzzed nearby. Devon grimaced in distaste and wondered if there was water in the bowl. She noticed a variety of tools leaning against the opposite wall. They might come in handy if she could free herself.
The tin walls of the shack created an oven under the Texas sun. Her back bore the brunt of the heat behind her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripped into her eyes, and pooled between her breasts. Her pink blouse clung to her skin.
Devon figured she’d been drugged with something powerful enough to knock her for a loop. She still felt groggy. Not knowing how long she’d been unconscious, she started keeping track of time by watching the shadows cast by the sun. The lack of sounds of human civilization indicated she was isolated in the flatlands. This shack was probably used by hunters or ranchers.
Three days into her captivity, by her estimation, she feared she would die without any water. Her tongue swelled in her mouth, and she found it difficult to breathe. Devon’s lips were dry, cracked, and bleeding. Her captors, whoever they were, had not come back. She believed she had been left for dead.
Devon couldn’t bear the oppressive heat. Shifting her position on the mattress, she noticed the sharp ridges of the tin can’s walls. Hope rose in her breast. She could rub her bonds against the ridges until the rope frayed. It took energy she could ill afford to expend, but she began to scrape the rope along the ridges, burning her hands on the hot tin in the process. Desperate for water, she would drink from the disgusting toilet bowl if necessary.
If there was water in it.
She ran out of breath and cried in frustration. Her effort, though, started to pay off when she felt the first few threads break. Adrenaline surged through her, and she rubbed harder and faster, even though blood ran down her hands. Several minutes later Devon cut through the last twist of the rope. Tears of relief poured from her eyes. She removed the gag and took in great gulps of air.
As the feeling returned to her sore hands and she began to untie the rope around her ankles, two men burst into the shack. Devon shrieked, but it came out as a barely audible croak. She kicked aside the rope and prepared to defend herself until she recognized Harry and Smitty. Sagging with relief, she said in a raspy voice, “Oh, thank God, you found me! Please, do you have any water?”
Harry and Smitty grinned at each other. “Uh, no. We snatched ya,” Smitty explained.
Devon stood straighter. At the first opportunity, she would grab the rake she saw earlier. “Why?”
Smitty jerked his thumb toward Harry. “He needs money. We figured the Barringtons would pay a small fortune to get ya back. Seein’ as you’re Shane’s fiancée and fuckin’ his brother and old man Barrington, too. They’ve been stewin’ for four days wonderin’ what happened to ya. There’s another guy who’s anxious to get ya back, too. He’s been hollerin’ and threatenin’ everyone in sight. Especially our boss.”
Jack.
Devon almost burst into hysterical laughter. “You’ve made a terrible mistake. First of all, I’m not Shane’s fiancée. I never was. It was just a scam we were pulling on old man Barrington. He knows about it, so he would never pay to get me back. Your boss hates me, and Shane is glad I decided to leave town. You’re not getting any money from them. In fact, I would wager they would payyouto keep me. I don’t know who the other man is,” she lied.
Harry punched Smitty in the arm. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he hissed. “She’s right. Boss was so mad he tore up the stable. They’re not gonna pay a dime for her.”
“And I told ya we shoulda nabbed the horse!”
Obviously, these were not the brightest criminals who had kidnapped her. “Look, fellas, I have money. I haven’t spent much of it while I’ve been here. All I need is my cell phone, and I can transfer what’s in my checking and savings accounts to you.”
That got their attention. She saw greed light up their eyes.
“We ain’t got your cell phone. We smashed it,” Smitty told her.
