myself.”
Technically, the scarf was evidence and needed to be treated as such. But Burke doubted there would be any viable prints or DNA after being stuffed in the cowboy’s pocket. There was no harm in allowing Dylan to cling to this scrap.
Turning away, he glanced at Corelli. “How about surveillance in the south pasture?”
“The best surveillance for this much land is probably a helicopter.”
“I’ve already arranged for a chopper.” He’d made that call last night. His superior had objected to the expense, but he reminded them that the FBI was investigating this kidnapping at the request of the governor.
He checked his wristwatch. “They should be here by noon. They’re also bringing tracking dogs.”
Corelli raised an eyebrow. “Things are about to get real exciting around here.”
“Is there anything else you can do with computers? What about thermal imaging?”
“I brought a heat-sensing camera with me. It’s long range. I can scan from about fifty yards away.”
“That might come in handy.”
Carolyn appeared at his side. “Come with me.”
She led him through the front door and into the yard. When they were out of earshot of the cowboy guard posted on the porch, she whispered, “Nicole was giving us a clue.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Her hands. The way she was holding the newspaper.” She illustrated. “On one side, she held it with her thumb and forefinger. On the other, she had three fingers outstretched.”
He studied her hands for a moment. “A circle on one side. And the letter M on the other.”
The Circle M Ranch, headquarters for the Sons of Freedom, was the clue.
“It’s time,” Carolyn said tersely. “We need to pay Sam Logan a visit.”
Chapter Nine
Carolyn knew how to control her emotions. Since childhood, she’d been trained to keep her outbursts to herself. Never cry. Never shout. Don’t even laugh too loud.
But the rage she felt as she took the turnoff leading to the Circle M surged too close to the surface. Her pulse raced like a stampede. If Sam Logan had done this terrible thing, if he’d snatched Nicole, she’d kill that bastard with her bare hands.
She pulled onto the shoulder and parked.
“What’s wrong?” Burke asked.
“I need to get a grip.” Fiery embers exploded behind her eyelids. She could barely see straight. “I’m fighting mad.”
He removed his sunglasses. “Look at me, Carolyn.”
As if that would do any good. Burke wasn’t the most calming presence in the world. “Leave me alone. I’ll manage.”
But he cupped her chin and turned her face toward him. She had no choice but to stare into his dark eyes. His gaze held her. In the morning sunlight, his irises were a rich, chestnut brown. His features seemed set in granite.
“How do you do it?” she asked. “In your job, you deal with bad guys all the time. How do you keep from lashing out?”
“Do you hunt?”
“Only with a camera.”
A smile twitched his lips. “You grew up on a ranch and you don’t hunt?”
“I don’t like killing animals. What’s your point?”
“My hunting analogy was supposed to make you think of focus. Emotion comes from your right brain. The left brain is logical. If you start thinking with logic, planning what move you’re going to make next, you’ll pull some of the focus away from your anger.”
“Planning,” she said. “I’m good at planning.”
“Think about what you’re going to say to Logan.” His voice was calm. “Concentrate on what steps we need to take. Once we’re inside the SOF compound, we need to assess the area. Make a mental map of the buildings. If they’re holding Nicole, where is she? Who would know where she is? Somebody must be bringing her food and water. Which person is most likely to help us?”
“Think of the end goal.”
“We need names,” he said. “Usually, I can count on Corelli to pull up this kind of information, but the SOF is too insignificant to be on the FBI radar. If we have individual names, we can run them through our database.”
“I’m good at remembering names.”
“Me, too.” He caressed her chin. “You’re trembling.”
“Holding back my anger.” She needed an immediate release—a way to express the raging emotion that rushed through her veins.
“How can I help?”
Without thinking of the consequences, she slid out from behind the steering wheel and across the bench seat of the truck. She moved into his arms, pressing against him.
They kissed, hard and fierce. She willingly surrendered to her passion. Her body arched toward him. The pressure of his mouth against hers sparked a fire within her. It felt good. A controlled burn. Like the kind