The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) Page 25

  At last he said, “Are congratulations in order?”

  “I told him I needed more time to think,” Libby said.

  “I’d think twenty years would be plenty of time to think,” North retorted. “Do you want him, or not, Libby? That shouldn’t be such a difficult question.”

  “It’s a big decision. I don’t want to make a mistake.”

  “Clay doesn’t strike me as a patient man. When were you planning to give him an answer?”

  “When I figure out what answer I want to give,” Libby said with asperity.

  “Why did you call me?” North asked.

  Libby sighed. She knew better than to ask, but she asked anyway. “What do you think I should do?”

  “It’s your life, Libby.”

  She’d known he would say as much. North had always been there for her, but he’d never tried to push her in one direction or another.

  “Call me if you need me, Libby.”

  Which was North’s way of saying the conversation was over. Libby said, “Good-bye, North,” and disconnected the call.

  Libby stood a long time in the shower. And remembered the shower she and Clay had taken together at the cabin. By the time she turned off the water, her body was fully aroused. She quickly toweled herself off and got out of the steamy room.

  Libby had just finished dressing when someone knocked on the door to her hotel room. It was too early to be the maid. And she hadn’t ordered room service. She hurried to answer the knock, thinking it might be Clay, telling her he’d made a terrible mistake walking out on her yesterday. Then she realized she still had no answer for him. Libby took a deep breath to calm herself, then opened the door.

  But it wasn’t Clay.

  Libby recognized the boy holding the gun close by his side. He was Bomber Brown’s son. The one Kate had befriended.

  Donnie Brown gestured with the gun for Libby to step back into the room. He followed her inside and let the door close quietly behind him, then turned to flip the security lock.

  Libby stared at the silver gun barrel pointed right at her heart. “What do you want, Donnie?” she asked, stunned.

  “I want you to walk downstairs with me without making a scene or drawing any attention to yourself, ma’am.”

  Libby noted the inconsistency between the boy’s courtesy and his menacing voice. He wasn’t tall, and she noticed the large gun seemed heavy in his hand. If she could distract him, she thought she might be able to overpower him and take it away.

  “I can see what you’re thinking,” Donnie said. “And that would be a mistake. If you don’t cooperate, your daughter is going to suffer for it.”

  Libby’s heart leaped to her throat. “Where is Kate? Is she all right?”

  “I have her tucked away safe and sound,” Donnie said. “Just come quietly, and I’ll take you to her.”

  Libby started to move toward the door and Donnie said, “Don’t forget your purse.”

  Libby picked it up, hoping she’d get a chance to use the cell phone inside.

  Then Donnie said, “Leave your cell phone here.”

  Libby took it out of her purse and dropped it on the bed. She looked at Donnie and said, “I’ll do whatever you say. Just don’t hurt my daughter.”

  “Be quiet, and do exactly as I say. This’ll all be over soon.”

  When Kate woke up she was somewhere else, a smaller, darker place. She was tied hand and foot and gagged. She could see a light under the door and she could tell the floor was made of something light and shiny like the marble on the courthouse floors. She was lying on something that was cutting into her back and could feel something heavy on top of her, crushing her stomach. She scooched an inch or so closer to the light under the door, which was all she could manage, and looked down to see what was causing the problem.

  Kate’s breath caught in her throat.

  She was wearing some sort of vest, and it was covered with blocks of something with wires attached that she was pretty sure were explosives. She carefully lay back down and examined the vest closely, looking to see how she might get it off.

  It snapped closed down the front.

  Kate tried pulling her legs up to see if she could get her tied hands under her butt and around to the front of her. She quickly realized her legs were tied to something at one side of what she thought might be a janitor’s closet, while a rope had been run through her manacled arms and tied off on the opposite side to keep her centered in the room. Which meant she wasn’t going to be able to attract attention by kicking the door. The gag meant yelling wasn’t an option.

  There had to be something she could do. She looked around the dim light in the room. But Donnie had apparently moved everything she could kick over or knock into out of her reach. She looked down to see if there was any kind of clock running down on the vest, telling her how much time she had before she was blown to smithereens. But there was nothing. Which meant Donnie must have some kind of detonator he could use to blow her up at his leisure.

  Kate felt herself hyperventilating and held her breath until she could get control of her breathing. She forced herself to put a lid on her imagination, which was working overtime. She could make a pretty good guess where she was. The shiny floors were the tip-off. Where else would Bomber Boy take the daughter of the judge presiding over his father’s trial except to her father’s courthouse?

  Donnie probably intended to call in a bomb scare, which would mean evacuating the courthouse. Which might give him a chance to rescue his father.

  Kate wondered whether Donnie actually intended to detonate the bomb she was wearing. He only needed the threat to free his father. But Donnie actually might want to reinforce the point his father had made in Houston. The Browns really didn’t like courts, lawyers, or the federal government.

  Kate struggled harder, but that only tightened her bonds. She sent a silent plea to Jack McKinley. I’m at the courthouse. I’m in trouble. Come find me. Please. She wondered how long it would be before her mother and father realized she’d been kidnapped. She wondered how their weekend had turned out. Had they managed to settle their differences? She hoped so. She so much wanted them to be happy. Even if she wasn’t going to be there to see it.

  Thinking of her mother reminded her of that odd sensation she’d had as she’d been blacking out. Had she really heard her mother’s voice? Or was that her imagination? Did that mean Donnie had taken her mother prisoner, as well?

  “Donnie better not hurt her,” Kate growled beneath the gag. “If he does, he’ll have to deal with Daddy. And North. And King.” She thought of all her family’s powerful resources focused on Donnie Brown. Once that happened, the kid was toast.

  Which would be great, assuming she wasn’t fried first.

  “You shouldn’t have interfered,” Donnie said angrily. “Then this wouldn’t have happened. Now you’ve ruined everything.”

  Libby felt faint with pain and loss of blood. She pressed her hand against the gunshot wound in her side, feeling the blood oozing between her fingers. “I need a doctor,” she said.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Donnie said. “I had everything planned. But this might work out just as well. When the judge gets a call that you’re in the hospital, he’ll call a recess and leave the courthouse. Once that happens, I can call in the bomb threat.”

  Libby felt her heart skip a beat. A bomb at the courthouse? Where Clay was sure to be? And where Donnie might have taken Kate? She glanced sideways at the young man who’d acted so friendly in the courtroom, wondering how he planned to silence her, now that she knew about the bomb he’d planted at the courthouse. Another bullet, this time somewhere more damaging?

  “Where’s my daughter now?” she demanded. “What have you done with her? Is Kate anywhere near the courthouse?”

  “She’s perfectly safe. For the moment.”

  Donnie’s threat against Kate had kept Libby docile as they’d exited the Four Seasons. She’d sat quietly in the car, while he’d driven to
an isolated location with hundreds of storage units. But when Donnie had opened the door to one of them, and she’d seen Kate huddled on the floor, she’d gone berserk.

  Libby had only gotten a glimpse of Kate, erupting from the floor and running at Donnie with her fists raised, before she’d charged Donnie herself. Libby had grabbed at Donnie’s gun, and it had gone off. The shock and pain of being shot had caused her to lose consciousness. She’d been awake and aware just long enough to hear Kate cry, “Mom!”

  When Libby had regained consciousness, she’d found herself belted into the passenger seat of Clay’s SUV, with Donnie at the wheel. Kate had been nowhere to be seen. Libby’s heart clenched as she realized that while she’d been away with Clay, her daughter had apparently been a prisoner of this youthful psychopath.

  She glanced at Donnie, whose brow and upper lip were dotted with perspiration, despite the fact the air conditioner in the car was running full blast. His hazel eyes looked haunted. His sandy hair stood up in spikes where he’d run his sweaty hands through it. The young man was clearly under a great deal of stress.

  “You don’t have to do whatever it is you’re planning to do,” Libby said.

  “I have to get my father free. Otherwise, the government is going to execute him.”

  “Killing more people is only going to make the government more determined to hunt you and your father down,” Libby said. “You’ll never have peace. You’ll never be free.”

  It was plain her words were having an effect, but not the one she wanted. Donnie only seemed more agitated.

  “Just shut up,” Donnie said. “Or I’ll shut you up.”

  Libby saw they were approaching Brackenridge Hospital, which was not more than a mile from the courthouse. She glanced sideways at Donnie, wondering how he planned to keep her from telling what she knew of his plans. She was terrified that he would shoot her again—and this time kill her. She reached down and surreptitiously released the seat belt, thinking she could leap from the car. Suddenly, an annoying chime resounded throughout the car.

  “Buckle up,” Donnie said, swinging the gun in her direction. “You never know when I might have to stop fast.”

  Libby rebuckled her seat belt, feeling her heart sink as Donnie stopped at the beginning of a driveway that led to the Brackenridge Hospital emergency entrance. “You don’t have to shoot me,” she said. “I promise I won’t say anything.”

  “I know you won’t,” Donnie said.

  “Please,” Libby said. She was ashamed to feel so scared, to be pleading with a kid who obviously had no conscience. But she didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not with so much of her life unlived. She was surprised how clear her choices became at a moment like this. She wanted a chance to love and be loved by Clay. She wanted marriage and children. She wanted a future with Clay that would include everything they’d dreamed of in the past—and more.

  Of course, she was lying to Donnie. She had no intention of keeping his plans to herself. If she had the chance, she would yell them to the high heavens. Libby understood why Donnie wanted to silence her. She just wasn’t ready to be silenced in the only way she could imagine him doing it.

  “Please, I—”

  “This’ll only put you out for a little while,” he said, putting the SUV in park, so he had both hands free. He set the gun in his lap and took a capped syringe out of his breast pocket. “But it should be long enough for us to be long gone.”

  Libby wondered why Donnie wasn’t worried about leaving a witness behind who could testify against him. Against them she suddenly realized. Donnie had said, “Long enough for us to be long gone.”

  She stared at the syringe Donnie had in his hand, watching as he removed the cap to reveal a wicked looking needle. Maybe whatever drug it contained was intended to kill her, and he just wanted to keep her calm until he could inject it.

  But if he’d wanted her dead, he could have killed her and left her in the storage room where he’d been keeping Kate. He’d mentioned he needed her as a lure to get Clay away from the courtroom. Maybe that meant Clay would be safe from whatever devastation Donnie was planning at the federal courthouse. Libby stared at the needle Donnie held upright.

  If she fought him, he might shoot her again. The gun was sitting right there in his lap. The needle seemed the lesser of two evils. She held tight to the wound in her side as she felt the prick of a needle in her arm.

  “You have about thirty seconds,” he said. “Take your purse when you get out. I want them to know who you are.”

  “Clay and I aren’t related. He won’t be the one the hospital notifies,” Libby said.

  “I’ve left a note for the judge at the courthouse,” Donnie said. “He’ll come.”

  Donnie drove up to the emergency room door and said, “Get out.”

  Libby fumbled with the seat belt with fingers that didn’t seem to be working. Donnie leaned across her and unbuckled the belt, then opened the door and repeated, “Get out. Now.”

  Libby stepped down from the SUV and felt her knees buckle under her. The last thing she saw as she crumpled to the pavement was Donnie Brown driving away in Clay’s SUV.

  17

  “How the hell did this happen?” North demanded, as he stood in the hallway outside his sister’s hospital room, his hands fisted on his hips. “For a Texas Ranger working this case undercover, you don’t seem to know a helluva lot.”

  Jack McKinley shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “Donnie gave me the slip. I thought he was down for the night, but he snuck out of his house before dawn. I had no idea he even knew where to find your sister, much less had the balls to kidnap her. The gunshot wound isn’t serious,” Jack continued. “The bullet hit Libby in the side, missed all the vital stuff, and went right through.”

  “That’s comforting,” North said sarcastically.

  “The doctor stitched her up, and she’ll be fine,” Jack said, uncowed. “Donnie apparently gave her chloral hydrate to put her out. When the drug wears off, we’ll be able to talk to her.”

  “Where is Kate?” North asked.

  “I don’t know. The last time I saw her was Thursday afternoon, when I told her I couldn’t go with her to Bitter Creek.”

  “She told Clay she was spending the weekend with you.”

  Jack flushed. “She lied.”

  “You promised me you’d look out for her.”

  “I thought the best way to protect her was to keep an eye on Donnie.”

  “You were wrong.”

  “I underestimated the kid,” Jack said. “He’s smarter than he looks. I searched for Kate as soon as I realized I’d lost track of Donnie, but I couldn’t find her. Now Donnie’s disappeared.”

  “Do we know for sure that he has Kate?” North asked. “That she isn’t with a girlfriend somewhere?”

  “None of Kate’s friends have seen her since she was late to class on Thursday,” Jack said.

  “Damn,” North muttered. “I was afraid something like this might happen. Who have you got looking for her?”

  “Every law enforcement agency in the state has been alerted. We’ve also got the FBI involved, because it appears Donnie’s kidnapped her.”

  North didn’t like the worry he saw in Jack’s dark eyes. Jack was good at what he did, and if Bomber Brown’s kid had managed to slip away, he was damned clever. Which didn’t bode well for Kate. “Find her, Jack.”

  “I will,” Jack said.

  North knew Jack would find Kate. The only question was whether he would find her in time—and alive. North stood where he was until Jack disappeared onto the elevator. He glanced back into the room where his sister lay on sterile white sheets and felt his insides clench at the thought of how close he’d come to losing her.

  He and Libby were closer than anyone suspected. Their whole lives it had been the two of them against the world. Libby had done most of the caretaking for their siblings, while North had stood between Libby and the younger kids and his father’s drunken rages. He’d
taken more than one blow to deflect King’s anger from the others.

  North rubbed at the scar on his shoulder. He and Libby would have left home a lot sooner if they hadn’t been worried about what would happen to Taylor and Gray and Tory.

  He hadn’t been surprised when Libby got pregnant. That was one way young girls managed to force the issue and get out. He’d felt sorry for Libby when King punished her for falling in love with a Blackthorne by threatening to ruin Clay if she didn’t stay at Kingdom Come.

  He’d seen how unhappy Libby was for the two years before she turned eighteen. And how she was never again quite as happy as she’d been during the summer she’d spent with Clay.

  “You and me against the world,” he murmured, as he leaned against the portal and listened to the steady beep of Libby’s life signs on the monitors. He knew he didn’t have the patience to sit beside her bed and wait for her to wake. Besides, he’d left Jocelyn in a family waiting room downstairs. He would have the hospital page him the moment Libby woke up.

  North was halfway down the hall when he ran into Jocelyn. “I asked you to wait for me downstairs.”

  “How is Libby?”

  “It looks like she’ll be okay. It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “I wanted to leave these flowers for her.” Jocelyn held out a bouquet of white daisies in a tall glass vase decorated with a bright yellow bow, which she’d apparently picked up in the gift shop downstairs.

  “She’ll appreciate that,” North said. He stepped back and let Jocelyn pass, then followed her back down the hall to Libby’s room.

  He hadn’t invited Jocelyn to come. But somehow she was here. The woman had insinuated herself into his life so deeply he wasn’t sure what he was going to do when September came, and she wanted out.

  There was no chance she was going to stay, because she’d made it clear she wanted more than a marriage of convenience. He’d argued that respect and liking were far more lasting than love. She’d replied that respect and liking were absolutely necessary. But so was love.

  Love meant being able to forgive, she’d said. Love meant putting the other person first. Love meant tolerance and caring and adoring and—She’d come up with a laundry list of all the things love was.