Colorado Abduction - By Cassie Miles & Marie Ferrarella Page 0,33
in the least.
Without breaking stride, she unfastened the strings of her apron and peeled it off. She slapped the fabric against Logan’s chest. “Thanks for your hospitality.”
“It’s good for you to work in a kitchen for once.” He signaled to one of his men, who responded quickly. “Escort our guests to the front gate.”
Burke made an attempt to keep the tenuous line of communication open. “I appreciate your cooperation.” He held out his hand for a friendly shake. “This is an impressive operation.”
Logan turned his back and walked away. Over his shoulder, he said, “Get the hell out.”
Carolyn called after him, “Hey, Sam.”
It was the first time she’d used his given name, which Burke thought was an effective use of a negotiating tool. Carolyn was sharp. In one word, she’d reminded him of their prior relationship.
He faced them. “What is it, Carolyn?”
“There’s no call to be rude. The pioneers had a tradition of Western hospitality. When someone offers the hand of friendship, it’s not right to turn away.”
With his men watching, he couldn’t be churlish. He grasped Burke’s hand. In a low voice, he said, “We’re not friends.”
Logan turned to Carolyn with hand extended. When she placed her hand in his, he pulled her close. “You hurt me once, honey. This time, it’s my turn.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not if you stay out of my way.”
As he and Carolyn walked up the road to the gate, Burke held his silence. Earlier he’d counseled Carolyn about containing her outrage. Now he had to apply those same restrictions to himself. It won’t do any good to explode. He was smarter than that, better than that.
But Logan’s smarmy attitude ticked him off. That blond son of a bitch with the perfect features was nothing more than a cowboy con man, hiding behind phony rhetoric about the noble American pioneers.
When Burke slid into the passenger seat of the truck, he immediately opened the glove compartment and retrieved his gun. The weight of it felt good in his hand.
“Your ex-boyfriend is one of the coldest, most calculating liars I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot. I’ve dealt with terrorists and serial killers. Sam Logan disgusts me more.”
“More than a serial killer?” Carolyn started the truck.
“Logan isn’t crazy. He knows the difference between right and wrong. And he consciously chooses wrong.”
She wheeled around in a U-turn and drove away from the Circle M. “What happens next?”
“When we get back to the ranch house, all hell is going to be breaking loose.” Burke holstered his gun. “I’ll need to coordinate choppers and dogs and a half-baked patrol of cowboys with rifles. Not to mention keeping everything quiet so the traitor can’t report our every move to Logan.”
“You’re sure that Logan is the kidnapper?”
“Not a hundred percent.” Logan’s alibi was the SOF. They could all stand in a circle and swear that they were all together at the time of the kidnapping. Which didn’t necessarily mean they were lying. “I’m certain he’s engaged in some kind of criminal activity. Maybe he’s got a meth lab hidden in one of the outbuildings. Maybe he’s doing some kind of smuggling.”
“His men were carrying some pretty fancy weapons. He could be trafficking in guns.”
“Could be.” As Burke started his left brain thinking, his anger faded. “In any case, he’s using the SOF as a cover for himself and his sorry gang of outlaws.”
“And the women?”
“He never lets them get involved in business, right?”
“Right,” she said.
“I doubt they know what’s going on. The women and children are, basically, hostages. Logan is using them as a human shield. The FBI can’t come after him with guns blazing while there’s a danger to innocent women and children.”
Though they were still a mile away from the Carlisle Ranch, she pulled over to the side of the road and parked. “I need to talk to you about the women. I got the impression that some of them might be on drugs.”
“Logan told me that some of the women came from the street, which I assume means they were either hookers or runaways.” The thought of Logan approaching some poor soul down on her luck and luring her to his ranch revved up Burke’s temper again. “He said they were lucky to have a roof over their heads.”
“Not lucky at all,” Carolyn said. “One of them was murdered.”
He hadn’t expected this bombshell. “Murdered?”
“One of them talked to me. Her name is Sunny. Can’t be more than twenty years old, and she’s pregnant. She wants to get away