Colorado Abduction - By Cassie Miles & Marie Ferrarella Page 0,49
and the searchers with me. You’ll be left in peace.”
“I want Sunny back.”
Burke’s jaw tightened. “She’s not here.”
“You’re lying.”
“Tell me about Nicole.”
“Go to hell, Burke. I’m not scared of you or any of your fed buddies. And you can tell Carolyn that, too. Tell her that I’m holding her personally responsible for Sunny. She knows better than to cross me.”
“Leave her out of this. You’re talking to me now.”
“Then let the consequences rest on your head.”
“What consequences?”
“I will have my revenge.”
He hung up before Burke could tell him what real revenge looked like. He pried his tense fingers from the telephone receiver and turned to Corelli. “When is the Big D supposed to happen?”
“Monday night.”
The same night that the ransom was supposed to be delivered. A plan began to form in Burke’s mind.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Carolyn wakened to the full light of morning glaring around the edges of the closed shades in her bedroom. She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. Ten thirty-seven? She seldom slept this late.
The need to get moving warred with a contented lassitude—the aftermath of last night’s incredible passion in the office. How did I get into my bed? She looked under the comforter and saw that she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I don’t remember getting dressed.
But she did recall—in spectacular detail—making love to Special Agent J. D. Burke. A happy little sigh escaped her lips as she snuggled deeper under the comforter. A quiver rippled through her, a reminder of Burke’s touch. She licked her lips, imagining that she could still taste him. Behind closed eyes, she saw his muscular chest and arms. His powerful body…
The door to her bedroom crashed open. Dylan charged toward her bed and shook her. “Carolyn, get up.”
In an instant, she went from sweet reverie to full alert. “What is it?”
“Proof of life. We got a videotape. You need to see this.”
She lunged from the bed and grabbed her plaid flannel bathrobe from the hook in the closet. Barefoot, she followed him down the stairs.
In the living room, she saw Corelli hooking up a dusty, old VCR player to the flat-screen television. In a crisp voice, he informed them that nobody used equipment like this anymore. Later, he’d transfer the images to a DVD. But they shouldn’t hope for crystal-clear definition.
“Why not?” Polly demanded as she peeked over his shoulder.
“Twenty-first-century technology doesn’t do me any good when the kidnapper is using stuff that’s decades old. First, a Polaroid photograph. Then a pay phone. Now this.”
Lucas was also in the room. And Special Agent Smith who, she assumed, had taken over the search coordination efforts since Silverman was at the hospital with Sunny.
Her gaze went to Burke. A forest-green turtleneck outlined his broad shoulders. Though his brown hair was mussed, he looked awake and supremely competent. His dark eyes met hers in brief acknowledgment. There was no time to indulge in morning-after conversation or sweet, sexy whispers. There could only be a glance between them.
Corelli pushed the play button and stepped away from the screen.
When Nicole’s face appeared, Dylan shuddered.
“It’s Sunday morning,” Nicole said.
Behind her was a faded yellow sheet that looked like it had been tacked to a wall. The image showed only her head and shoulders. She reached up and tucked her blond hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m fine. I have plenty to eat and drink, and I’m being well cared for.”
Her blue eyes seemed calm and untroubled. Considering what she’d been through, she looked good.
“I’ve been asked to remind you about the ransom. One million dollars in cash. That’s a lot of money, isn’t it?” She drew her fingers across her lips. “If you follow instructions, everything will turn out okay. See you soon.”
The screen went blank.
Burke moved in front of the screen. “First impressions?”
In a choked voice, Dylan spoke, “I’ve never seen that blouse before.”
“Are you sure?” Carolyn asked. “I didn’t think you paid much attention to clothes.”
“I know what she had on yesterday. I’ll never forget.”
Polly said, “I think Dylan’s right about the blouse. I’ve done my share of laundry here and Nicole doesn’t have anything with flowers. I’m not so sure about the beige cardigan.”
“First impressions,” Burke repeated. “Carolyn?”
She forced her drowsy mind to focus. “It didn’t sound like she was reading from a script. She was conversational, but distant. Like she was using her bedside manner.”
“Explain,” Burke said.
“I’ve gone with Nicole a couple of times when she’s treating a