Katie closed the window, taking her time. She tried to look through the thick rain, but didn’t see any movement, any shadow of a little boy. Where was Sam?

She turned, hoping he couldn’t see the satisfaction in her eyes. Sam was out of it, at least for now. It was just between the two of them and he was rattled. Just let him get a bit closer.

Beau walked quickly to the door and motioned with the pistol for her to come to him.

“May I suggest that you slink out of here while you still can, Beau? Or better yet, why don’t you drop that gun and let me take you to my nice warm facilities?”

“Shut up, you infernal woman. What we’re going to do is get that cute little girl. Maybe we can negotiate a trade.”

Her heart nearly stopped. “No, take me and leave the little girl alone, do you hear me, Beau? Leave her alone or I’ll kill you so slow and so hard you’ll scream so loud even the Devil won’t want you.”

But Beau just laughed, pushed her in front of him until he himself shoved open Keely’s bedroom door. “Come on out, kid! I’ve got your mama!”

There wasn’t a sound.

Beau flipped the light switch.

Both of them looked at the lump beneath the bedcovers. Katie’s heart nearly dropped to her knees, but then she saw something wasn’t right here. Keely had ears as sharp as a dog’s. Why was she just lying there? Beau waved Katie to the far side of the room, walked to the bed, and poked the lump with the muzzle of his gun.

“Come on out, little girl. Your uncle Beau’s gonna take you for a nice long ride.”

T he lump didn’t move. Beau poked his gun harder.

“Not again.” He jerked back the covers. There was a pillow molded in the shape of a person, a very little person, underneath the covers.

Both Sam and Keely were gone.

Katie was nearly giddy. “Looks like my kid’s pretty smart, doesn’t it, Beau?” Thank the good Lord for Katie’s favorite climbing tree.

“I hate this job,” Beau said. “All right, the little kids aren’t dummies. It’s you and me now, Sheriff, and we’re heading outside. When we’re clear of this place, I’m going to whump your ass.”

“Okay,” she said, so relieved she thought she’d choke on it, “since you put it so nicely.”

Where was the FBI?

At that instant, Katie could swear she heard the soft purr of a car motor. She looked at Beau out of the corner of her eyes, realized he hadn’t heard a thing.

The rain had picked up again and battered sideways in through the open window Beau had smashed in the living room.

Beau didn’t look happy. “You’re walking too slow. Move! This is your fault, you bitch! The slower you walk, the more I’m going to hurt you.”

He shoved her hard, and then, because he wasn’t stupid, he took a quick step back.

“Go! To the front door, now!”

You want a hostage, Beau? That’s just fine with me, you bozo.

She walked swiftly to the front door, slid free the dead bolt, and opened it.

She saw a flashlight beam aiming toward her, then a hand quickly covered it. Someone was close.

She wanted to shout that Beau was right behind her with a gun at her back, but she kept her mouth shut. Anyone watching would see him soon enough.

Beau shoved the gun against her back. “Go, move! Get those arms up, clasp your hands behind your neck. Get out there!”

She put her hands behind her neck, walked through the open front door, and stopped on the front porch. The overhang didn’t help much since the wind was slapping the rain sideways. Katie shouted, “You out there, Clancy?”

Not a sound, just another flicker of a flashlight whipping around, cutting through the thick rain, its vague beam a ghostly light. She thought she heard men’s voices, low and whispering. Was Agent Savich here? Or had Wade gotten worried and come over? Whoever it was, she hoped they had a good view of her and Beau.

Beau shouted, “Clancy, drive the van up next to the front porch! If you FBI geeks are out there, stay back or the sheriff’s dead. You got that?”

There was no answer, just the wind, rumbling through the trees at the sides of her house.

“You hear me, Clancy? We’re taking her with us. Then we’ll see about the boy.”

A man’s voice came out of the night, off to her right. “In that case, Mr. Jones, why don’t you just consider us observers. Do whatever you want to do.”

Beau jumped. “Yeah, you guys just stay back. I’m taking her and we’re leaving.”

Katie recognized Agent Savich’s voice, and there was something else in his voice, something meant for her. She wished she could see his face, then she’d know what he wanted her to do.

The big van came hurtling toward the house, its tires spewing up black mud. Fatso was at the wheel, turning it hard until the front fender scraped against the steps of the front porch. She watched the big man lean across the front seat and push the door open. “Get her in here, Beau, fast!”

Savich’s voice, loud and sharp, “Now, Sheriff!”

Katie threw herself off the front porch, jerking her SIG Sauer free even as she crashed against the back tire of the van.

She heard Beau yell, heard two shots. With no hesitation, Fatso gunned the van, but he didn’t get far. She saw Agent Savich turn smoothly and shoot out both back tires. Fatso skidded in the mud and crashed hard into an oak tree. She could see him hit the windshield, then bounce back, his head lolling to the side. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Katie swung her SIG Sauer around toward Beau just as Savich leapt onto the porch. He was so fast he was a blur, and his leg, smooth, graceful, like a dancer, kicked the gun out of Beau’s hand. It went flying across the porch, landing against a rocking chair leg. Beau grunted, grabbed his hand, and turned to run.

Agent Savich just grabbed his collar, jerked him around, and sent his fist into his belly, then his jaw.

Beau cursed, and tried to fight back. Savich merely belted him again, this time in his kidney. He shoved him down onto the porch and stood over him. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “Sometimes I like to fight the old-fashioned way. Now, you just stay real still, Beau, or I just might have to hurt you. You hear me?”

“I hear you, you bastard. I want my lawyer.”

Katie, her SIG Sauer still in her hand, walked slowly up onto the porch. She looked down at the man who probably would have killed her, killed Sam and Keely, without a dollop of remorse. She shoved her SIG back into the waistband of her jeans, lifted her booted foot and slammed it into his ribs.

“Here’s one for Sam and Keely,” she said, and kicked him again.

“That’s police brutality,” Beau said, gasping from the pain in his ribs. “I’m gonna sue your ass off!”

“Nah, you’re not,” she said. “You’re in the backwoods now, Beau, and do you know what that means?”

“You marry your brother.”

“No, it means you’ll marry my brother, if I want you to.”

Dillon Savich was laughing as he looked at the bedraggled woman, hair hanging down, pulled free from her ponytail, her mouth pale from cold. “Sheriff Benedict, I presume?”

“Yes,” she said, already looking around for Sam and Keely.

“I’m Agent Savich. A pleasure, ma’am. You like excitement, don’t you?”

“What I liked best in all of this was the sound of your voice and sight of your face, Agent Savich. Those were some cool moves you made to take down old Beau.”

“I tripped, dammit!”

“Yeah, right,” Katie said, and looked toward the van again. Clancy was still out of it. She was on the point of going over and pulling him out when Sam shouted “Papa!”

“Mama!”

She heard a man yell “Sam!”

“Mr. Kettering?”

“Yes, that’s Miles. I ordered him on pain of death and dismemberment to stay back. And here’s your little girl, ma’am.”

Keely was wet to the bone, her flannel pajamas plastered to her, her hair hanging in her eyes. Katie swept her up into her arms and held her so tight the little girl squeaked.