Angi Morgan - Hill Country Holdup

“How? How do I know that, after everything that’s happened?”

“Maybe because I want to get Rory back as much as you? Didn’t you find anything in here,” he whispered, touching her forehead, “to support my side of things?”

Afraid that the closeness of his body had impaired her speech, she could only shake her head.

“How about here?” He touched her breastbone, just above her heart.

It was an innocent enough connection, but he was so close and leaning closer that it set her thoughts off balance. His warm breath caressed her ear, sending a tremor through her senses.

“If you didn’t really trust me, why did you ask for my help, Janie?”

Janie. She’d always loved it when he called her that. She felt her knees weaken, then mentally shook herself to get her wits back.

“I shouldn’t have asked, but I thought you would help find…” Dear Lord, she’d nearly said “your son.”

“Before we can go forward, Janie—” he probably knew what that name did to her “—you’ve got to believe I’m the only person who can help you.”

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Tim, thank you for encouraging me to follow my dream.

Angi Morgan had several jobs before taking the opportunity to stay home with her children and develop the writing career she always wanted. Volunteer work led to a houseful of visiting kids and an extended family. College breaks are full of homemade cookies, lots of visitors and endless hugs.

When the house is quiet, Angi plots ways to intrigue her readers with complex story lines. She throws her characters into situations they’ll never overcome…until they find the one person who can help.

With their three children out of the house, Angi and her husband live in North Texas with only the four-legged “kids” to interrupt her writing. For up-to-date news and information, visit Angi at her Web site: www.AngiMorgan.com.

Dr. Jane Palmer —With no roots of her own, she sought the security of a family for her son. But before she can introduce him to his father, Rory is kidnapped. She’s willing to do anything to rescue her son—even run from the FBI.

Special agent Steve Woods —He refuses to let the Brant abduction end as badly as the case that haunts him. In order to save Thomas, he first must save Jane’s son. Can he save both children and repair the broken relationship damaged by years of secrets?

Rory Palmer —Jane’s son inherited her special gift, but needs his father’s help to survive. Why is he the key to the Brant kidnapping?

Thomas Brant —The three-year-old son of a computer mogul kidnapped for a two million dollar ransom.

Special agent Roger McCaffrey —The leader of the CARD Team is on the hunt for a grieving mother involved in the kidnapping of Thomas Brant.

Agent George Lanning —Steve’s partner is torn between their friendship and his job.

Agent Selena Stubblefield —Steve’s former partner is willing to help Steve, but at what cost?

Dr. Hayden Hughes —Jane’s closest friend. He’s more than willing to play the role of Rory’s father.

CARD Team —The FBI’s Child Abduction Rapid Deployment Team.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Steve Woods focused on the woman pushing a million dollars through the Fourth of July spectators in Williams Square. They hadn’t identified her yet. She’d taken possession of the stroller—and the hidden money—only four minutes ago.

Musical notes from the orchestra’s “Baby Elephant Walk” faded into the background along with the chatter of the Texas crowd. His target swerved to the right so Steve ducked behind a double-wide plaid shirt, keeping out of her line of sight.

With the ease of a longtime mother, the suspect fussed over an imaginary baby. The Mustangs of Las Colinas sculpture loomed in the background as she stuffed the large bills into a pack she flung onto her shoulder.

The gut instinct that kept him alive through ten years of FBI fieldwork pumped adrenaline through his veins. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong. But he would. Heart pounding, he searched for any sign of a weapon while wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Everyone count off.” No one around him took notice that he spoke into a hidden microphone built into his earpiece. The bystanders appeared intent on following their noses, drawn by the aromas of funnel cakes, hamburgers and roasted corn. Or in grabbing the free samples of Starbucks coffee before the portable store packed up shop and went home. No one here knew that a little boy had been kidnapped.

“Greenback Two in position with a lock.” George Lanning began the count. Only four out of the five followed.

“Where’s Stubblefield? Does anyone have eyes on her position?”

“She was by the corn dog stand two minutes ago.” Even without the help of his powerful scope, George had the best vantage point of the entire field from atop the north parking garage. “I can’t find her ponytail.”

“Greenbacks scramble. Switch to Bravo Tango Alpha,” Steve said. The team changed frequencies to exclude Stubblefield in case her radio was compromised. “Granger, search her last position. I’m staying with the target.”

The sun sank fast behind the surrounding buildings. Darkness was just as much their enemy as the kidnappers. Once the fireworks began, it would be hard keeping the woman in sight. They had to stay alert and not lose the target in the crowd, even while restrained to the meandering pace set by the woman pushing the stroller.

Wouldn’t she be in a hurry to leave?

The money headed toward the middle of the activities, the center of a field of picnic blankets, lawn chairs and kids with glow-in-the-dark necklaces. Steve had his agents in place, but the large perimeter stretched their coverage. Their target was cut off completely by a man-made lake on the southeast side of the field. The kidnappers had chosen an ideal time and place to run their game.

“Where the heck is she going?”

“I’ve got nothing,” George answered. “The monorail blocks my view of the other side of the lake. Who builds a lake in the middle of a business district anyway?”

“Apparently the city of Las Colinas,” Winstrop mumbled.

“Cut the chatter,” Steve commanded. “Keep your eyes open. Our area is overextended, and you guys know the Irving cops and highway patrol already have their hands full monitoring the crowd. Anyone see Stubblefield?” Blast it. Her first assignment after moving back to his team, and she wasn’t following protocol. Terrific.