Texas Tall (The Tylers of Texas 3)

“Alive and pretty. That’s the plan.”

“I could use a bathroom break,” she said.

“That’s your problem.” No way was Stella letting her out of the trunk and freeing those long legs. She’d probably take off like a jackrabbit.

“At least give me some water,” she said. “My throat’s really dry.”

“Oh . . . what the hell. Just a sip. I’ve got a bottle up front.” Stella walked around to the car’s front door, opened it, and found the plastic bottle she’d tossed onto the passenger seat. She was out of sight for no more than a few seconds, but she walked back to find that the girl had rolled, dropped her bound legs over the rear bumper, and was almos

t out of the trunk.

Time for a little education.

Stella tossed down the water bottle and grabbed the girl’s arm. “Where d’you think you’re going, you little spoiled shit?” She backhanded her hard across the face. “You think you can hop all the way home to your daddy, eh?” She hit her again, so hard that Erin’s head snapped to one side. “Don’t mess with me, princess, or you’ll be sorry!”

She clamped the washcloth over the girl’s face and held it there until the slender body went limp. Then she shoved her prisoner back in the trunk, took her shoes for good measure, and slammed the lid shut. She’d never liked kids, and this one could turn out to be more trouble than she was worth. Only the thought of the money the girl would bring kept her from dumping the little twit on the road and leaving her there to freeze.

Climbing back in the car, Stella drove on. If the weather held, she could be over the border in a couple of hours. The idea of a warm bath and a soft bed in Piedras Negras was sounding more and more like heaven.

* * *

How could anything be harder than waiting?

Will, Tori, and Beau huddled in Tori’s living room, all of them silently praying for good news. Until they had some word of Erin, there was nothing they could do except be here, and be available.

Tori’s cell phone rang. The caller was Natalie, who was waiting back at the ranch with the rest of the family. She’d called Tori because Beau wanted to keep his phone free for police or FBI calls. “Any news?” she asked.

“Nothing yet.” Tori forced herself to use her lawyer voice. She was crumbling inside, but this was no time to break down.

“They’re sure it was Stella who took her—and shot Clay?”

“Positive. The sheriff ’s men matched up the boot prints and tire tracks. Plus, the waitress at the Blue Coyote hadn’t seen her boss all afternoon. The best guess is that she’s headed for Mexico. The highway patrol has an all-points bulletin out, but no one’s spotted her car. She may have switched vehicles.”

“Oh, Tori . . . ,” Natalie whispered.

“Don’t,” Tori said. “Sympathy can wait.”

“They must be doing more than that to find her,” Natalie said.

“There’s a statewide AMBER alert out for her. And the police will be checking every car that leaves the country through Eagle Pass. If all Stella wanted was revenge, she could’ve killed Erin when she killed Clay. If she’s keeping her alive, and taking her over the border, it’s for one . . . reason.” Tori choked on the last words.

“I’ll let you go,” Natalie said. “Tell Beau I called. We’re all praying.”

“Thanks.” Tori ended the call, struggling to get a grip on her emotions. It was all she could do to keep from dashing outside, jumping into her station wagon, and rushing off in the night to find her daughter. But that would be useless. All she could do was stay here and endure the agony of minutes crawling past with no word.

Will was sitting next to her on the couch. Tori reached for his hand and felt his big, rough palm close around hers. They held each other in silence, seeking comfort, drawing strength, and sharing the pain that only parents of a loved child could know.

A light rap on the door jerked them all to attention. Beau opened it to find Sheriff Rafe Sanchez on the porch. Just twenty-two, the son of an unmarried Mexican mother, he’d stepped into Abner’s job barely a week ago. Now he was in charge of investigating the scene of Erin’s kidnapping and the murder of Clay Drummond.

“Any news?” His dark eyes took in their stricken faces. “No, I guess not. I just wanted to give you an update on what we found at the scene. I don’t know if I’m supposed to share it, but . . .” He shook his head. “What the hell, you deserve to know.”

“Come in.” Beau stepped aside and ushered him into the living room. “Have a chair. Can we get you something to drink?”

“Thanks, but I can’t stay.” He remained standing, a tall young man, his lean body still filling out. “We’re pretty sure Stella was blackmailing Clay. We found a surveillance tape in his hand—something that would’ve ruined him if it had gone public.”

“That’s no surprise,” Beau said. “Blackmail was Stella’s stock in trade. We know better than to ask you what was on the tape.”

Sanchez nodded. “For now, we’re not telling the family. Stella’s prints were on the cassette. She could’ve offered it to Clay in exchange for delivering Erin.”