Something was wrong. Gabe felt it all the way to his toes. And he couldn’t believe that Page had decided to try again to handle her problems on her own. Not after she’d looked at him the way she had and promised he could trust her. “We’ve got to go after her.”
“In what?” Blake snapped. “She’s got the truck. Wingate’s got my van. We’re stranded here.”
That ominous feeling was growing stronger by the moment. “Then we have to call someone. The cops. Anyone. Damn it, we have to stop her.”
As though he suddenly shared Gabe’s cold premonition, Blake calmed down and looked at Gabe with a frown. “What are you thinking?”
“She hasn’t run again, Blake. She wouldn’t leave us stranded here without a clue as to where she’s gone.”
“It certainly looks that way,” Blake said slowly.
Gabe nodded tightly. “I know what it looks like. But it’s not true.”
He simply wouldn’t accept it.
“So—what? You think she’s headed for the nearest grocery? The closest pharmacy?”
“Not without telling us.” Gabe was already reaching for his cellular phone.
“We have to find her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Blake, snatching the instrument off the coffee table where he’d left it. “She needs—”
The phone rang in his hand.
Looking at Blake, Gabe held it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Do not call the cops. Not if you want to see her alive again.”
The curt command was given in a voice that was unfamiliar to Gabe. But he would bet Page knew it all too well.
“Where is she? What have you done with her?” he demanded, his grip white-knuckled on the phone.
“You want her? Come and get her,” the voice taunted.
Gabe had gone cold, right through to his bones. “If you lay a hand on her, I’ll kill you, you bastard.”
“You are persistent, aren’t you? Haven’t you figured out yet that she isn’t worth your loyalty? All the time and money you’ve spent looking for her since she ran out on you—what a fool you are,” the voice marveled. “She’s a home-wrecking, two-bit tramp and you’re just another besotted idiot who’s fallen under her spell What do you all see in her?”
The man sounded genuinely perplexed when he added, “How many more stupid men are going to have to die for her before I do the world a favor and get rid of her, hmm?”
“Don’t hurt her.” Gabe wasn’t quite begging—but he knew he would, if he thought it would make a difference.
“You just don’t understand, do you, man? She doesn’t get hurt. It’s the people who get near her who suffer. Are you still willing to take that risk? Or do you want to forget about her right now and go back to Texas? That’s what I would do if I were you. I’d consider myself well rid of her.”
Terror sharpened Gabe’s tone. “I want her back. And I’m not going to rest until I have her. And if you hurt her, I won’t rest until I’ve gotten to you. Is that clear?”
His threat was met with a gruff chuckle. “Okay, fine. If that’s your decision, then come after her. I’ll even tell you where she’ll be. Oh, and bring your detective friend along,” he added, all humor leaving his voice. “That’s an order, not a suggestion.”
Gabe shot a look at Blake, who hovered nearby, waiting impatiently to find out what was going on.
“You’ll find your buddy’s van a couple of hundred yards down the road from the cabin,” the caller said. “The keys are in it.”
He gave a few quick, curt directions to the rendezvous point, then warned, “And if you’re thinking of doing something really clever, like bringing the cops with you, don’t. They’d probably take me out, but not before I put a bullet in the bitch’s head. To be quite honest, I don’t care whether I survive this or not. You want to take the same chance with your wife?”
“I won’t bring the police,” Gabe said woodenly.
“Wise choice. You’ve got an hour, Conroy. If you take any longer than that, I’ll assume you got smart and wrote her off. And then I’ll make sure she never troubles you—or any other man—again.”
“Wait, I—”