His Best Friend's Baby. Mallory Kane

“It’s up to you to keep him safe. Let’s talk business.”

      “What do you want?” she asked tightly.

      “Money, of course,” the man replied. “Are you listening, Schiff? Because I will only say this once. I want a million dollars in hundreds. Don’t give me any problem about the money. I am aware of who your mother-in-law is.” The man’s voice was cold and hard. “I don’t want to hear excuses about needing time to get the cash together. Just do it.”

      Aimee felt helpless and lost. She could hardly make sense of what he was saying. She took a deep breath. “Let me talk to my baby,” she begged. “He must be so scared. He needs to hear my voice.”

      “Shut up. You’re not giving the orders. I am. Now here’s where the exchange will take place.”

      He rattled off some numbers that meant nothing to Aimee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt nod at Schiff.

      “Got it?” the man snapped.

      Schiff sent her a nod.

      “Y-yes,” she said.

      “Tomorrow at 1500 hours. Aimee, if you want to see your baby again, you will deliver the money.”

      Matt jerked. He shook his head fiercely at Schiff.

      “I—I don’t know,” she stammered, her heart stuck in her throat.

      “Family friend,” Schiff mouthed.

      “Wait. I can’t come alone,” she said as strongly as she could. “I—I’ll need to care for William Matthew. I need to bring a—a family friend—”

      “Schiff?” the kidnapper said. “What did I tell you? I will not say it again. Make it happen.”

      The line went dead.

      “Dammit,” Matt spat.

      Aimee’s throat closed and her eyes stung with tears. She swallowed them as the phone dropped from her numb fingers. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.

      Schiff didn’t answer her. “Give me those coordinates,” he told the computer tech, who repeated the numbers.

      “You said you’re an expert in weather and survival,” Schiff said to Matt. “Know where that is?”

      “That latitude and longitude puts it north of Sundance,” Matt muttered. He pulled a small device out of his pocket and pressed buttons. “It’s about halfway up Ragged Top Mountain. Rough terrain. Plus we’ve got a late-winter storm building. Could dump a foot or more of snow before it’s done.”

      He turned toward Margo. “Isn’t Ragged Top where your husband’s hunting cabin was? I think Bill and I went up there a few times.”

      Margo nodded stiffly. “That’s right. No one’s been there in years. I don’t understand. What did the kidnapper say?”

      “He’s demanding that we bring the money to a location on the south side of Ragged Top.”

      “South—? That’s—” Margo stopped, frowning. “Oh, dear.” Her face drained of color.

      It was only the second time Aimee had ever seen Margo shaken. The first was when she was told her son had died. Maybe her mother-in-law wasn’t as cold and insensitive as she’d always appeared.

      “What?” Matt demanded. “It’s what?”

      The woman blinked. “Nothing. It’s just—it’s so hard to get up there. Especially this time of year. I’d have thought—I mean how’s he going to keep William safe up there?”

      “I’ll tell you how,” Matt said. “He knows the area. I’d bet money on it, judging by the way he rattled off those coordinates. He knows Aimee can’t go by herself.”

      Schiff raised his eyebrows. “What about you? Can you do it?”

      Matt’s jaw clenched in determination. “Yeah. I can do it. I’ve pulled innocents out of more remote locations than that. But this storm’s coming in fast. By 1500 hours tomorrow, it’ll be right on top of that peak.”

      Schiff frowned. “The weather service said it would be moving into this area late tomorrow night.”

      “Yeah, that’s what they’re saying.” Matt set his jaw. “I’m going in alone.”

      Aimee stiffened. She knew he could do it. That wasn’t the problem. He was a search-and-rescue specialist, trained in the Air Force. There was no one better suited to the job.

      But the kidnapper had been very specific.

      “Don’t even think about leaving me behind, Matt,” she said. “William Matthew is my baby. He needs me. When you hand over the money, I will be there to take him in my arms.”

Chapter Two

       THURSDAY 1600 HOURS

      After coordinating times and plans with Special Agent Schiff, Matt drove straight back to Castle Ranch. He needed to talk to Deke.

      At thirty, Deke Cunningham was one of the most decorated Air Force combat rescue officers alive. His skill with a rifle was legendary. The only thing he did better than shoot was fly a helicopter.

      Which was exactly why Matt wanted him on alert for the ransom exchange.

      When he got to the hangar, Deke wasn’t there. But at the door to his office, Matt saw something he hadn’t noticed before.

      The plaque hanging beside Deke’s office door. It had hung in Rook Castle’s office since the day he’d created Black Hills Search and Rescue, Incorporated. It was small and plain, with a simple message.

      IN MEMORIAM

      Vietnam Veteran and Combat Rescue Officer

      Arlis Hanks, 1944-1990. Our pledge—to honor your bravery by rescuing the innocent.

      Matt touched the four signatures that were emblazoned into the bronze. Robert Kenneth Castle, Deke Cunningham, Matthew Parker and William BarkerVick.

      Irina must have given it to Deke. Matt nodded to himself. It was fitting.

      He found Deke in Irina’s office, sitting with her, Specialist Rafiq Jackson and Aaron Gold near a bank of windows that framed a view of the desolate, magnificent Black Hills. He nodded at Rafe and Aaron, and acknowledged Deke with a brief glance.

      Irina smiled and stood to give him a hug. Rook Castle’s widow was as vibrant and lovely as ever. Her blond hair glowed in the sunlight that streamed in the window. But behind her smile and the sparkle in her blue eyes, Matt saw a shadow of grief.

      He couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for her to give up searching for her husband. She’d seen him shot, and watched him fall into the Mediterranean Sea. Even so, she’d clung to the hope that because his body had never been recovered, he might be alive.

      Now, she’d given up. For everyone who knew her, and who’d supported her efforts to find him, that made it official. Rook Castle was dead.

      “Irina,” Matt said. “When you called me the other day, I didn’t get a chance to say—”

      She held up a hand. “I know. Thank you, Matt.” A small, sad smile lit her face. “It’s been more than two years. It’s time I stopped living in a fantasy world. What’s important now is rescuing Aimee’s baby. All my resources are available to you.”

      He studied her face, wondering if Deke had told her about his theory that Novus was behind the kidnapping. He decided not to mention it. “I wanted to see if Deke could help me out.”

      “Of course. You two talk here. I need to check with Pam about my schedule. Rafe, Aaron, walk out with me.”