Colorado Abduction - By Cassie Miles & Marie Ferrarella Page 0,10
the Waco cult.
“It’s not the same thing,” she said quickly. “Sam Logan isn’t that kind of guy.”
“How do you know?” Burke asked.
She swallowed hard. “He used to be my boyfriend.”
Chapter Four
Sam Logan hadn’t been the love of Carolyn’s life. He’d been two years ahead of her in high school, and they went out on exactly three dates before he told her that she wasn’t “sophisticated” enough for him. In his dictionary, “sophisticated” meant having sex, which wasn’t something she wanted to try at age sixteen.
Several years later, after she’d graduated from college, she and Logan hooked up again. Their relationship had been far more complicated the second time around.
“Well?” Burke glared at her as if she were a suspect. “Are you going to tell us about your survivalist boyfriend?”
“I need coffee for this.”
She pivoted and went down the hall toward the kitchen where the family’s housekeeper, Polly Sanchez, was taking a batch of her famous raisin rolls out of the oven. The heat from her baking steamed up the north-facing windows. A mouthwatering aroma filled the huge kitchen.
“Can I help?” Carolyn asked.
“Good heavens, no. I’m in a hurry, and I don’t have time to clean up after you.” With an expert flourish, Polly spread gooey icing on top of the rolls. “Soon as I’m done here, I’m heading home to catch a couple of winks before morning.”
As Carolyn watched the icing melt into rich swirls she realized that she hadn’t eaten for over ten hours, not since noon when she had sushi from the new Japanese fusion restaurant down the street from her Denver office. Lunchtime seemed like decades ago.
She rested her hand on Polly’s round shoulder. “Thanks for coming over to help out.”
Beneath her curly gray hair, Polly’s forehead crinkled with worry wrinkles. “You know I’d do anything for your family.”
For the past twelve years, Polly had worked at the ranch as housekeeper and chief cook. Her husband, Juan, had been a full-time ranch hand—and an expert at repairing machinery—until three years ago when he was stricken with MS. Now, his hands were too weak and unsure to hold a wrench. As soon as she’d learned of his illness, Carolyn authorized payment for a full pension and upped Juan’s medical coverage to pay for treatment. She’d offered to do the same for Polly so she could stay home with Juan, but the buxom little woman insisted that she needed to keep busy.
During the spring calving and fall roundup when they had a full crew, Polly had two employees working under her. At this time of year, her schedule was less demanding.
“You need me here,” Polly said in a brisk tone. “Tomorrow morning, Juan and I will move over here to the ranch house, and we’ll stay until Nicole comes home.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Carolyn said.
“Honey, you’ve got a houseful of FBI agents and bodyguards. And you can’t hardly boil water without setting the house afire. How did you plan to feed all these hungry men?”
“I can call for pizza.”
“Pizza for breakfast?” Polly clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “Y’all sit right here at the kitchen table. I’ll bring your coffee and raisin rolls.”
Taking the seat opposite Burke, Carolyn knew that the time had come to answer his question. “Okay, here’s what happened between me and Sam Logan.”
“Logan?” Polly set mugs of coffee on the table. “He’s turned into a regular nutcase. He runs that Sons of Freedom bunch over at the Circle M. It’s not all Sons. There are families. The women all wear housedresses and tie their hair back. Same with the kids.”
Burke turned toward her. “Is it a religious group?”
“Lord, no.” Polly bustled back to the counter. “Logan doesn’t have a religious bone in his body. Does he, Carolyn?”
“Not when we were going out.” She remembered Sam Logan as a tall, lean guy with a blond ponytail and a charming smile—handsome enough to cruise by on his looks. She wasn’t surprised that he’d gathered followers.
“His group,” Polly said, “wants to go back to the pioneer days. They’re against big business, government interference, taxation without representation and all that.”
Burke shrugged. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
His comment surprised Carolyn. What kind of fed was opposed to government interference? She’d thought FBI agents couldn’t wait to bust down doors and take everybody into custody.
Polly placed a plate full of raisin rolls on the table. “People around here call them SOF for Sons of Freedom. Or Silly Old Fools. If the only thing they wanted was to