Familiar Escape. Caroline Burnes

She paced the cabin. “But we do have to resolve this—” she waved her hand around the room “—hostage thing.”

      “What do you suggest?” Thomas asked.

      She could see he was willing to listen. Initially she’d been mad at him, but now she felt the anger slipping away. He was only trying to get his life back. She’d lost her sister and her niece, but he’d lost big, too. He’d lost his identity and, if he was telling the truth, only because he’d been kind to Anna.

      “We can play it two ways. I can turn myself in and say you released me, or we can team up and try to outrun the law.”

      He was very still, but his gaze never left hers. “You’d risk it all by teaming up with me? You believe me when I say I’m innocent?”

      She swallowed. “Right this moment, I believe you. Please don’t give me any reason not to.”

      She felt the sharp claws of the cat digging into her shin. Leaning down, she pulled him into her arms. “You haven’t been a lot of help, Familiar.”

      “Meow!” He struggled in her arms and she released him. In a moment he was patting her pocket where she’d put the note. She pulled it out and spread it on top of the table where the cat sat in front of it as if he were reading.

      “Meow,” he said, putting his paw on the words The baby is alive.

      Molly inhaled sharply. “The person who wrote this note knows enough about my family to track me down. This had to be someone that Anna talked to.”

      “And that’s the best clue yet,” Thomas said, nodding.

      Chapter Four

      Molly watched Thomas’s skill with the open fireplace and the food he’d prepared. He’d taken basic canned goods and come up with a meal, including hot coffee. “I guess you really enjoy camping,” she said. She didn’t add that her idea of a weekend off included a massage and room service.

      “It was part of a life I left behind.” He unhooked the pot from the cast-iron brace and carried it to the table. “If I had my druthers, I’d still be out on the range.”

      “You’re a computer software designer, right?” Molly found the two careers—software designer and cowboy—almost diametrically opposed.

      “That’s right. I work in the Security Department at McGivens. We write programs to protect computer networks from privacy threats.”

      She laughed. “I don’t see what that has to do with herding cows.”

      Thomas signaled for her to have a seat. He served them both some beans and corn bread before he sat down across from her. Familiar nibbled daintily on the corned beef Thomas had opened for him.

      “Nothing to do with the cows, but with the strategy for keeping the cows safe,” he explained. “It isn’t the same, but sometimes it requires the same mindset—to see danger on the horizon and figure a way to head it off at the pass.”

      He was entertaining her, trying to keep her mind off the crazy twist her life had taken, and she appreciated his efforts. “So why did you leave the open range?”

      “The big cattle companies are breaking up the family ranches. The new breed of rancher sits in an office in Houston and wants to feed-lot the cows. It’s not a business I want to be involved in anymore. I had a buddy in computer security. Turns out I had an aptitude for it. I got training and a job.”

      She could understand that. Once, a cowboy rode miles and miles of open land pushing cattle from pasture to pasture. It was a job description that fit the cowboy’s need for wide-open space, self-reliance and a bond with nature. Now it was a business where a cow was born and died within the same small compound.

      Thomas shook his head, and a sheepish grin touched his features. “I’d be laughed off the ranch, but I’m a vegetarian these days.”

      The light from the fire danced across his features, and Molly thought, not for the first time, what an attractive man he was. His brown hair was cut short and neat, and his hazel eyes glittered with intelligence tempered by kindness. His build bespoke of long days with little attention paid to food, yet he was an excellent cook. He was a man filled with complexities. She looked down at her plate of beans. “I don’t miss the meat, but a glass of wine would be nice,” she said.

      He frowned. “We’re going to need supplies. I’m sure my bank account is being watched, which means I can’t withdraw funds.”

      “I have some cash.” She surprised herself. She was offering aid to the man who’d abducted her. “And a credit card, but they’re probably watching my accounts, too.”

      He pushed his half-eaten food back. “I’ve been thinking, Molly. You should call the police. Tell them you were abducted and that I let you go. You can go on with your search for Kate without being involved in my troubles.”

      Across the table, Familiar stopped eating and looked at her.

      Molly was shocked—at her reaction. Thomas was offering her freedom, and she found herself resisting the idea. Had she lost her mind? “What if the police think I was involved in breaking you out of jail? They’ll just arrest me, and I’ll be behind bars and unable to hunt for Kate.”

      “I suspect they’ll assume you were innocently taken by the mad killer of your sister.” Thomas didn’t bother to hide the bitter hurt in his voice. “If you tell them I took you by force, they’ll believe you. They’ll want to believe you because it fits in with their idea that I killed my friend and did something awful to her baby.”

      “They might not believe me. I don’t want to risk it.” Molly had a mental image of a thermometer shooting up to 105 degrees. Her brain was really cooking! She was trying to convince her abductor to let her stay. What was it called? The Stockholm Syndrome, when a captive began to identify with her abductor?

      “We need to hear the news,” Thomas said. “That way we can get a line on what the law is thinking.” He looked around the cabin.

      “There’s no electricity, much less television,” Molly pointed out.

      “Meow!” Familiar reached across the table and snagged the sleeve of Thomas’s shirt. “Meow.”

      The cat hopped down and walked to the door. He cast a solemn green gaze on Thomas and Molly and waited at the door.

      “He wants us to follow him,” Molly said, rising.

      “How can you tell?” Thomas didn’t move.

      “Trust me, we should follow him or else he’ll come over and bite your shins.”

      Thomas rose. “So we’ll follow him.”

      Molly caught the tone of condescension in his voice, and she smiled. Familiar would make a believer of him—and soon.

      They stepped into the night, following the cat in the beam of lantern light that fell from the open door. Familiar sauntered to the SUV where he stood on his back legs and patted the door of the vehicle.

      Molly opened the door and he hopped in, his black paw batting the radio.

      “He’s right,” Thomas said. “I can’t believe he thought of it before we did.” His voice held awe. “The radio could have a story on us.”

      “I told you the cat was a detective,” Molly said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Give me the keys.”

      Thomas handed them over and she turned on the ignition. After spinning the dial, she finally found a crackly newscast.

      Through the static, the newscaster’s voice sounded serious. “Law enforcement officials in a five-county area are searching for an escapee tonight. Sheriff Paul Johnson has issued an alert to the area citizenry to be on the lookout for Thomas Lakeman. The thirty-eight-year-old man is accused of murder in the shooting death of thirty-year-old Anna Goodman.