“What about local cops?” Barbie asked.
“Probably in Ballard’s pockets, and if one should poke his head up, tie him to a tree and gag him.” His phone buzzed. “Kincaid.”
He listened to Detective Langley. Shit and fucking hell. When he hung up, he stared at the phone for a moment and then looked up. “Like we always say, the only easy day was yesterday. Cops found Eli’s car at a private airport. Dani Prescott left Asheville in a plane with three men about an hour ago. The only good thing about this news is that they filed a flight plan for Arkansas, so we now know for certain they’re coming here.” Never had Logan felt so helpless. He didn’t appreciate it one bit.
“New plan, boss?” Buchanan asked.
“New plan,” Logan answered.
Dani refused to look at or speak to any of the three men in the small plane. Keeping her gaze glued to the window, she tried to guess what state they were flying over, but everything appeared the same from this height. They were headed west, and she thought it a pretty sure bet they were going to Arkansas. Well, she’d never been to the Ozarks, so something new.
“Everything will be all right, Danielle, you’ll see,” Eli said, and put his hand on her knee.
With great effort, she didn’t shudder. Any sympathy she’d felt toward him had vanished the minute he’d dragged her at gunpoint out of Dr. Gordon’s office. Was Regan safe? Logan would see to it. That she knew as sure as she knew the sun would rise in the morning. He would take her daughter to Jared and Scott, and then he would come for her. Believing in him was the only thing that kept her from falling apart.
Eli scared her mainly because of his misguided belief that somehow he and Evan were one and that she belonged to them. The man obviously needed a good head doc. But it was the two in the front seats of the Cessna that had her quaking in her boots. The one flying the plane had the meanest eyes she’d ever seen, and the other one kept glancing over his shoulder at her and smirking as if he knew something she didn’t, maybe even something Eli didn’t know. She pretended not to notice the attention he paid her.
Nor did the gun resting on his leg do anything to settle her nerves.
Both of them had looked her up and down when Eli had pulled her out of the car and pushed her to the plane. “Blessed Son’s not gonna be disappointed,” Mean Eyes had drawled.
“Kinda wish I was him right now,” Smirk Face said.
What did that mean? The hand Eli pressed to her back tensed. She’d wanted to ask who Blessed Son was and why he wouldn’t be disappointed, but wouldn’t give them the satisfaction—nor was she sure she wanted to know.
“Get in the plane and shut up,” Eli growled.
“Watch who you tell to shut up, boy.” This from Mean Eyes.
Just one big, happy family. How sweet. A sinking feeling almost brought her to her knees. She’d tried to jump out of the car, but Eli had grabbed her arm and not let go until they arrived at the little airport. She feared a broken leg would have been easy peasy compared to what awaited her.
Dani glanced at her watch. How long did it take to fly to the Ozarks? They’d been in the air for a little over an hour, and as far as she was concerned, they could stay up in the fluffy clouds for eternity. She had no wish to land.
But they did. An older man stood at the end of the grass-strip runway, six men flanking him. “Blessed Son,” Smirk Face said with reverence in his voice to the gray-haired man when the four of them piled out of the Cessna and stood in front of him.
Blessed Son? No introduction was needed to know this was Herbert Ballard, the man who’d separated Evan’s family. Dani hated him on sight.
Bugs crawled under her skin when his gaze raked over her. Her stomach churned when he reached out and took her hand. His fingernails were longer than any man’s should be, his palm damp. His face and the skin on his arms and hands were so pasty, she wondered if he ever allowed sunlight to touch him. Eerily pale blue eyes tried to hold hers captive, but she focused on his chest.
She had landed in hell. Logan, where are you?
“Welcome, dearest one.”
“I want to go home,” she said before she could zip her lips.
“You are home, little one,” he replied, the sound of his voice almost hypnotizing.
Was this how he had stolen Ruth, with that soft, gentle sound that implied he understood everything about her? She wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t hear a word he said. Lowering her gaze to her feet, she repeated herself. “I want to go home. This isn’t it.”
“You do not wish it, you only think so, little dove. You are meant for great things and only I can show you. You have been chosen by God to stand at my side.”