Samantha shrugged and feinted as if she were going to capitulate. She shifted her weight, then drew back one foot and let fly. The surprise kick caught the man below the waist and doubled him over.
Behind her, Lindy screamed. “Danny!”
“Mama!”
Sam whirled, ready to do battle. The moment she realized what was happening she started to run.
It was too little, too late. The second burly man had hold of Danny and was loading him into an SUV that had just pulled up. The guy Samantha had kicked shoved her out of the way, slid in with the child and slammed the door as the vehicle began to accelerate.
Lindy had been thrown to the ground. Samantha knelt beside her and touched her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
The distraught mother lifted a face of anguish and stared, mute.
“Who were those guys?” Samantha demanded. “Think. You must know something that will help.”
“I—I don’t know their names,” Lindy wailed. “I think I’ve seen Ben talking to them before but he never said who they were or what his connection was.”
“Well, there has to be one.”
Sam couldn’t help but notice John running toward them. Judging by his expression he was more than worried. He was irate.
Rising, she held up her hand like a traffic cop. “Before you start yelling at me, you need to report a kidnapping. Those guys in the SUV just took Danny Southerland. They said he was their hostage.”
“Why? What did they want?”
“Ben,” Samantha said. “I don’t know what he’s mixed up in but it must be bad. They said they intended to use Danny for bait until Ben told them where he’d hidden some money he took from them.”
“How did Danny get outside?” John demanded, reaching for the radio that was clipped to his belt. “And how in the world did you get involved?”
“It’s a long story.” Samantha took Lindy’s arm and helped her to her feet. “They were apparently on their way to kidnap Danny when his mother decided to run away with him. Turns out she had the right idea, her timing was just a little off.”
“We should have posted a guard on his room,” John said, chagrined. “We would have if we’d suspected anything like this. I figured his only threat was from his father.”
“What are we going to do?” Samantha asked, keeping an arm around Lindy’s shoulders while the woman sobbed uncontrollably, her face in her hands.
“Hang on.” John spoke into his radio and cited all the details he had amassed before turning back to the women. “Sheriff Allgood and Chief Kelso are on their way. They’re making arrangements to have the situation broadcast on local radio and TV stations in the hopes that Ben will respond.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Samantha asked.
“I got their license number when they stopped, thanks to the same SUV almost running me off the road on its way here. That’s a good start, especially if the tags weren’t stolen. We’re setting up roadblocks on the highways.”
“What can we do?” She was eyeing Lindy as she spoke. “There must be some way we can help.”
“There is. You can come with me to the station and look at pictures of known criminals.”
“Mug shots? Like in the movies?”
John shook his head at her naïveté. “These days we do all that by computer but the result is the same. First, I think you should take Mrs. Southerland to the E.R. and have her checked out.” He grimaced. “It wouldn’t hurt if you had yourself looked at, too.”
“There is not a thing wrong with me,” Samantha insisted.
She saw him shaking his head as he turned to walk back to his truck. He didn’t have to verbally refute her to get his opinion across. He was unhappy with her actions, as usual. Well, that couldn’t be helped. She had done the right thing and if she could go back in time and do it all again she wouldn’t change a thing—except maybe to kick harder.
Of all the things she was, daughter, nurse and friend, her work as a CASA volunteer was the most important. And the toughest. There had been many times since she’d first enrolled in the program when she’d wondered if her heart was going to break for the children she was assigned to help.
Only the sense that she was carrying out a divine mission had kept her from giving up. The same sense would carry her through this catastrophe, too. It had to, because she knew that in her own strength she was as helpless as the waifs she was sworn to defend.