Delores Fossen - Nate

“Cooperate?” she repeated. “How?”

There were a dozen more questions she could have added to those, but Nate didn’t seem to have any more answers than she did. The only thing that appeared certain right now was that two gunmen had taken Nate’s daughter, her son and a preschool employee, and they had driven off in a black van.

Nate’s breath was gusting as much as hers, and he had a wild look in his metal-gray eyes. Even though his hands were shaking and he had a death grip on his gun, he managed to start his car, and he sped off, heading east, away from the center of town.

“This is the way the kidnappers went?” Darcy asked, praying that he knew something she didn’t.

He dropped the letter next to his cell phone. “We have a fifty-fifty chance they did.”

Oh, God. That wasn’t nearly good enough odds when it came to rescuing Noah. “I should get in my car and go in the opposite direction. That way we can cover both ends of town.”

“Grayson will do that,” Nate snarled. He aimed a glare at her. “Besides, what good would you do going up against two armed men?”

“What good could I do?” Darcy practically yelled. “They have my son, and I’ll get him back.” Even though she didn’t have a gun or any training in how to fight off bad guys. Still, she had a mother’s love for her child, and that could overcome anything.

She hoped.

“You’ll get yourself killed and maybe the children hurt,” Nate fired back. “I’m not going to let you do that.” And it wasn’t exactly a suggestion.

He was right, of course. She hated that, but it was true. Even if she managed to find the van, she stood little chance of getting past two armed men, especially since she didn’t want to give them any reason to fire shots. Not with her baby in that vehicle.

Nate flew past the last of the buildings but then slammed on the brakes. For a moment she thought he’d spotted the van. But no such luck. He was stopping for the dark blue truck that was coming from the opposition direction.

“My brother Dade,” Nate told her. “He might have some news that’ll help us narrow the search.”

Good. She was aware that Nate had a slew of brothers, all in law enforcement. And she was also aware that Dade was a deputy sheriff since only two months earlier he’d been involved in the investigation of one of her former clients. A client killed in a shootout with Nate.

The two vehicles screeched to a stop side by side, and both men put down the windows. Darcy ducked down a little so she could see the man in the driver’s seat of the truck.

Yes, definitely Nate’s brother.

He had the same midnight-black hair. The same icy eyes. But Dade looked like a rougher version of his brother, who had obviously just come from his job in SAPD. Nate wore jeans but with a crisp gray shirt and black jacket. Dade looked as if he’d just climbed out of the saddle, with his denim shirt and battered Stetson.

The brothers exchanged glances. Brief ones. But it felt as if a thousand things passed silently between them. “Anything?” Nate asked.

Dade’s troubled eyes conveyed his answer before he even spoke. “Not yet.”

“There was a note,” Nate said, handing it through the window to his brother. He immediately started to slap the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel. He was obviously eager to leave and so was Darcy. “Later I need it bagged and checked for prints.”

Later. After they’d rescued the children. Darcy didn’t want to think beyond that.

“Once one of the other deputies arrives at the preschool, I’ll be out to help you look,” Dade offered. “Was anyone in the building hurt?”

Nate shook his head. “It looked like a smash and grab. Entry through the side door. No signs of … blood.”

Dade returned the nod. “Good. Hang in there. We’ll find these goons, and we’ll find Kimmie.”

Nate gave Dade one last brief look, maybe to thank him, and he hit the accelerator again. He sped off in the opposite direction of his brother while he fired glances all around. He wasn’t just checking Main Street but all of the side roads and parking lots.

Silver Creek wasn’t a large town, but there was a solid quarter mile of shops and houses on Main Street. And there were no assurances that the kidnappers would stay on the main road. Most of the side streets wound their way back to the highway, and that terrified her. Because if the kidnappers made it to the highway, it was just a few miles to the interstate.

“I have to do something,” she mumbled. Darcy couldn’t stop the panic. Nor the fear. It was building like a pressure cooker inside her as Nate sped past each building.

“You can do something.” Nate’s voice was strained, like the muscles in his face. “You can keep watch for that van and try to figure out why those men did this.”

That didn’t settle the panic, but it did cause her to freeze. Why had those men done this? Why had they specifically taken Nate’s daughter and her son?

“You’re a cop,” she blurted out. “This could be connected to something you’ve done. Maybe someone has a grudge because you arrested him.” It was a possible motive. And that caused anger to replace some of the panic. “This could be your fault.”

It wasn’t reasonable, but by God she wasn’t in a reasonable kind of mood. She wanted her son back.

Nate kept his attention nailed to the road, but he also scowled. He clearly wasn’t pleased with her accusation. Or with her. But then he always scowled when she was around.

“If this is my fault, then why did they take your son?” Nate asked.

She opened her mouth to explain that away, but she couldn’t. Darcy could only sit there and let that sink in. It didn’t sink in well.

“If I counted right, there were eight toddlers in that play group today. Eight,” he spat out with his teeth semi-clenched. “And they only took ours. They said cooperate or we’d never see our babies again. Our babies, ” he emphasized. “So what the devil did you do to bring this down on us? You’re the one who likes to muck around with slime.”

She shook her head, trying to get out the denial. Yes, she was a defense attorney. She’d even successfully defended the man who’d originally been arrested for masterminding the murder of Nate’s wife. But that was resolved. His wife’s killer was now dead, and so was her former client Charles Brennan.

But he hadn’t been her only client.

In the past she had indeed defended people with shady reputations, and in some cases she hadn’t been successful. Maybe one of those less-than-stellar clients was holding a grudge.

Oh, mercy. Nate was right. This could all be her fault.

The tears came. She’d been fighting them from the moment she realized something was wrong in the preschool, but she lost that fight now.

“I need you to keep watch,” Nate growled. “You can’t do that if you’re crying, so dry your eyes and help me look for that van.”

“But this is my fault.” She tried to choke back a sob but failed at that, too.

“Stop thinking like a mother for just a second. They took both children so it’s connected to both of us. Not just me. Not just you. Both. ”

Her gaze flew to his, and she met his frosty-metal eyes. The raw emotions of the moment were still there, deep in those shades of gray, but she could also see the cop now. Here was the formidable opponent she’d come up against in the past.

“The man who killed your wife is dead,” she reminded him. “And so is the person who hired him.”

“Wesley Dent isn’t in jail,” Nate provided. He took his attention off her and put it back on the road.

Yes. Wesley Dent was her client. A San Antonio man under investigation for poisoning his wife. Dent had retained her a few days after his wife’s death because he was concerned about the accusatory tone the police were taking with him. She’d accompanied him to several interviews and had successfully argued to put limits on the search warrant that was being issued for his house and vehicles.