Snowed In. Cassie Miles
noise should disguise our voices.”
“Why are you pretending to be Farley? He’s sitting right over there in Kovak’s car.”
“I don’t trust him to say the right thing. Are you ready to do this?”
Impersonating someone else was out of her comfort zone, but she wanted to help. “Okay.”
As he punched in a phone number, he explained, “This is Farley’s cell phone. I’m putting it on speaker.”
A male voice answered on the fourth ring. “Do you have the package?”
“Hey, there,” Blake said. “How’d you know it was me?”
“The caller ID, you idiot.”
“I got the girl right here.” Blake’s smooth, deep voice had transformed into a thin drawl. “Where’s my money?”
“You don’t get paid until she’s with me. You didn’t hurt her, did you?”
“She don’t like the handcuffs, but she’s fine. Real fine and real pretty.”
“Is she blindfolded? I told you to blindfold her.”
“You bet she is,” Blake said. “You want to talk to her?”
“Yes.” The response was terse, almost a reprimand.
Blake held the phone toward her and said, “Go ahead, Emily.”
Sarah tried to imagine how her friend would feel if she’d been captured. Emily wouldn’t be crying; she was tougher than that. But she would be frightened. Putting a quiver in her throat, Sarah said, “Please, please, help me. If it’s a ransom you want, my father will pay. He’ll pay anything.”
“Are you injured?”
“I’m scared,” Sarah said. That wasn’t a total lie. “You’ve got to help me.”
Blake gave her a thumbs-up sign as he pulled the phone back. “Now you’ve heard her. Where do I bring her to get my payoff?”
“Come to the parking lot behind the Laughing Dog Saloon on the Bridge Road outside Carbondale. And make it quick. I expected to hear from you an hour ago.”
“Well, ain’t that too bad. Me and the guys had a little drink to celebrate.”
“Don’t bring your crew. Just you and the girl. Keep her blindfolded.”
Blake disconnected the call, opened his car door and signaled to Kovak, who came toward them. Then he turned back toward Sarah. “Come with me.”
“There’s something I need to tell you first.”
“What’s that?”
In the overhead light from the car, she noticed his dark stubble, a smear of dirt across his forehead and the glittering intensity in his blue eyes. The sleeve of his parka was wet from his struggle with the armed man. “I’m sorry for getting in the way,” she said. “I didn’t take the threat seriously enough.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. “I appreciate that. You did a good job talking to that guy.”
His compliment warmed her, and she had the irrational notion of doing whatever it took to please him. “I won’t cause any more trouble.”
Blake left the SUV to join Kovak, and Sarah followed. Standing in the forest between these two tall men, she felt as small as a mouse.
Blake filled Kovak in on the phone call and continued, “I was hoping Farley’s employer would give us a specific place, like a hotel room, where we could walk up to the door and arrest him. Instead, he’s treating this situation like a hostage exchange, probably because he doesn’t want to take a chance on Farley getting close enough to get a good look at him.”
“What about Emily?” Sarah said. “If he took her hostage, she’d be able to identify him.”
“Bad luck for her,” Kovak said.
“Maybe not,” Blake said. “He seemed concerned about her well-being and wanted her blindfolded. It’s hard to believe he intends to hurt her.”
“Kidnapping is a serious crime,” Kovak said. “Even if the kidnapper isn’t a pro, he won’t want to leave a witness.”
Sarah shuddered to think what might have happened if she and Emily hadn’t gotten away at the clearing. They hadn’t been prepared for danger. As trusting as Hansel and Gretel—or Gretel and Gretel—they’d followed a text message into the forest. Though she’d told Blake she was sorry, she couldn’t help blaming him for not warning them.
“We need a plan,” he said. “This might be our only chance to catch this guy.”
“I can call for more backup,” Kovak said.
“Not enough time. He expects Farley to show up soon.” Blake gave a decisive nod. “And that’s what we’ll do. I’ll take Farley’s van and wear a ski mask. Kovak, you follow at a distance in my SUV. We’ll keep in touch by phone. When I get close to the Laughing Dog, I’ll put in another call to this guy. I’ll distract him. You approach from behind. And we’ll take him into custody.”
“What about me?” Sarah asked.
“You’ve done enough,” Blake said. “The other deputy is taking Farley to jail to book him. You can ride with him.”
“Hold on,” Kovak said. “What if our kidnapper wants to see Emily? Sarah could impersonate her.”
“No way,” Sarah said. “We don’t look anything alike.”
“She’s right,” Blake said. “They both have light-colored hair and are close to the same height, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Emily is pale and dainty. Jeremy says she’s like a perfect white rose.”
And what did that make her? A big, old, prickly cactus?
Kovak squinted at her. “From a distance, Sarah looks kind of like Emily, especially if she’s got a blindfold covering half her face.”
She muttered, “Or I could just put a bag over my head.”
Blake ignored her and spoke directly to Kovak. “How well do you know Sarah?”
“Pretty well.” He shrugged. “Why do you ask?”
“Most cops hate to have civilians involved, but you don’t seem to have a problem with pulling Sarah along.”
“We’ve worked together before.” Kovak clapped her on the back. “Sarah regularly volunteers for mountain rescues. I’ve seen her in action, and she knows how to handle pressure.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a grin.
“To tell the truth, I’d rather have you setting the belaying lines for a descent than most of the guys in the sheriff’s department.”
“Good to know,” Blake said as he headed toward Farley’s van. “Sarah rides with me.”
With Kovak’s praise ringing in her ears, she strode along beside Blake. Maybe she wasn’t a delicate flower like Emily, but she was the first woman the deputy would pick to play on his team. She’d always been “one of the guys.” Not homecoming queen. Not the girl with tons of dates on Saturday nights. But men were comfortable around her and trusted her.
The interior of Farley’s van was, predictably, cluttered and grungy with a gross smell of stale bread, gunpowder and sweat. In addition to the litter—crumpled wrappers from fast-food places, empty ammo boxes and discarded clothes—there were filthy, blood-soaked rags, reminding her of the wounded men who had been arrested. She remembered her jolt of fear while watching the armed men and Blake circling the cabin.
She glanced over at him as he got behind the steering wheel. If she mentioned that she’d been scared, she knew