“Oh?” The beam of a flashlight directed into her face was so bright it took several long seconds for Jamie’s pupils to adjust. When they did, she knew what the kidnapper meant. He was not only armed with a pistol, he was wearing something on his head that looked like pictures she’d seen of night vision goggles.
She swiped away the tears the light had caused. “How do I know you really have Marsha and Kyle?”
“Because you talked to her on the phone, you idiot.” The more Randall interacted with her, the more deranged he sounded and the more frightened Jamie Lynn became. Her strongest hope was that she was managing to mask her fear. Since he had accused her of plotting against him, perhaps she was succeeding.
“We’re over here,” a woman’s voice called.
“Are you okay?”
“So far. What are you doing here?”
“I snuck away from Shane so I could be with you.”
Marsha’s voice wavered as she said, “What did you hope to accomplish?”
“I came to trade myself for you and Kyle.”
Jamie felt the barrel of a gun against her spine and was shoved so hard she stumbled forward. The door slammed behind her, leaving only the faint glow of moonlight. That was enough to make out her fellow captives huddled in the corner farthest from the door. Marsha had shoved Kyle behind her.
“This used to be my room when I was little,” Jamie said, approaching them and lowering her voice. “Are you tied up?”
Marsha shook her head. “No. I’m not sure he intended to take us. He was acting very strange when he came to the house looking for Shane.”
“Tonight? He thought Shane was at home tonight?”
“I guess so. Why?”
“Because if he’d been behind Max Williford’s murder he’d have known where Shane and I were.”
“Not necessarily,” the older woman argued. “He was rambling when he showed up.”
“If he wanted Sam’s old notes, why didn’t you give some to him?”
“Because Harlan took most of the boxes. The rest, you and Shane had at the motel.”
Jamie Lynn nodded. “Okay. I know I was followed from your house but I don’t know how long it will be before help arrives. Shane is on foot because I stole his truck. If he wants to bring Sam’s notes for a ransom, he and the sheriff will have to go collect them.”
She eyed the window she’d had so much trouble opening. It was cracked, probably from the heat of the fire, and so smoky it was partly opaque. Hiding on the porch roof was no smarter for Marsha and Kyle than it had been for her when the Lamont brothers had been after her, but that didn’t mean Randall would reason it out.
Jamie said, “I have an idea.”
“No. We’re fine for now. As soon as Shane gets here with Sam’s files, the judge will let us go.”
“In your dreams,” Jamie countered. “Think, Marsha. What would your Sheriff Sam tell you to do? The judge has gone ’round the bend, as my dad used to say. This bunch of low-life crooks has killed Sam and Max Williford and probably at least one of my parents. What makes you think anybody is going to walk away from this mess?”
“We have to get Kyle out.”
“Exactly why I came,” Jamie Lynn said. Because the child was cowering behind his grandmother, she leaned past Marsha to speak to him. “I’m going to count on you to rescue your memaw. Understand?”
The tousled head nodded.
“Okay. Give me your jacket and listen, both of you. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
SEVENTEEN
Anger took over Shane’s usually logical mind. He shouted. Paced. Confronted the sheriff and was ready to take on every other uniform in sight.
Harlan startled him when he came up behind Shane and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa.”
Whirling, Shane drew back his fist, barely able to control himself. When the older man ducked and looked concerned, it helped snap him out of his mindless rage.
He froze, still ready for a physical altercation, then slowly lowered his arm. His breathing was ragged, his pulse so rapid he could barely tell the beats apart. Every nerve in his body was firing and the connections in his brain were as snarled and tangled as the silk of a damaged spiderweb. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next.
“We know where Jamie’s going, right?”
Shane could only nod.
“Then let’s let the police chase after her while we go get the stuff the kidnapper wants.”
“It won’t be enough. You should have heard his voice. He’s lost his mind. There’s no way we can trust him.”
“That doesn’t matter right now. Get in my car. We’ll swing by my office and pick up a few boxes to satisfy the judge’s demands, just in case.”