Bridal Falls Ranch Ransom
EVE BROOKS THOUGHT SHE’D NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE AGAIN—UNTIL J.P. RYKER GAVE HER A REASON
Former FBI agent J.P. Ryker was hired by reclusive Idaho ranch owner Eve Brooks after a kidnapper threatened her for the second time in a year. He is determined to keep his new boss safe, even if he only catches glimpses of the mystery woman through heavily curtained windows. But when the threats to Eve’s life become more deadly, J.P. convinces Eve to let him see her face-to-face. One look and J.P. knows all of Eve’s secrets…and can’t resist the once-famous beauty who hasn’t been seen in public in months. With every reason to protect her and few clues about who is after her, J.P. is the only one she seems to trust. A trust he knows will be shattered when she discovers his connection to her tragic past….
Why was she stonewalling? What did she know about that night that she wasn’t telling him?
“The past is the past, I live with it every day. I want you to stop him in the here and now, before he tries to follow through on his threat. Just tell me you’re here to help me.”
There it was again, her palm pressed against the fabric in front of him.
J.P. stepped closer.
Eve Brooks was his client. All she wanted was his assurance he could help her, and protect her and catch the disgruntled kidnapper tormenting her. It was what he’d been hired to do.
Raising his hand, he put his palm to hers, reaffirming the existence of a physical connection emanating from their single point of contact.
“I’m here to help you, Eve, but you have to be honest with me. No detail is too small if it helps me catch him.”
“I understand.” Eve lowered her hand, slower this time, and J.P. thought she was about to tell him what he needed to know.
Instead, she said, “If there’s nothing else, you know your way out.”
Jan Hambright
Bridal Falls Ranch Ransom
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jan Hambright penned her first novel at seventeen, but claims it was pure rubbish. However, it did open the door on her love for storytelling. Born in Idaho, she resides there with her husband, three of their five children, a three-legged watchdog and a spoiled horse named Texas, who always has time to listen to her next story idea while they gallop along.
A self-described adrenaline junkie, Jan spent ten years as a volunteer EMT in rural Idaho, and jumped out of an airplane at ten thousand feet attached to a man with a parachute, just to celebrate turning forty. Now she hopes to make your adrenaline level rise along with that of her danger-seeking characters. She would like to hear from her readers and hopes you enjoy the story world she has created for you. Jan can be reached at P.O. Box 2537, McCall, Idaho 83638.
Books by Jan Hambright
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
865—RELENTLESS
943—ON FIRE
997—SHOWDOWN WITH THE SHERIFF
1040—AROUND-THE-CLOCK PROTECTOR
1118—THE HIGH COUNTRY RANCHER
1141—THE PHANTOM OF BLACK’S COVE
1219—KEEPING WATCH
1233—CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN
1311—CAMOUFLAGE COWBOY
1400—BRIDAL FALLS RANCH RANSOM
CAST OF CHARACTERS
J.P. Ryker—A former FBI agent, J.P. worked tactical operations for the FBI’s hostage rescue unit, until a hostage was murdered before he could get to her. He quit the bureau and started his own security agency. He’s doing fine until he takes Eve Brooks’s case in Idaho and discovers an unresolved link to his past.
Eve Brooks—She’s running scared after a botched ransom drop in the California desert and a horrible explosion that left her physically scarred. Hiding out at the Bridal Falls Ranch in Idaho seems to be the only hope she has of avoiding the disgruntled kidnapper who has contacted her again. That is, until she hires J.P. Ryker to protect her.
Thomas Avery—He’s Eve’s business partner in L.A. and the ex-fiancé who deserted her after the accident. He’s an undisputed cad, but do his character flaws run deeper?
Edith Weber—Maybe the best personal assistant Eve has ever had.
Devon Hall—He’s the foreman of the Bridal Falls Ranch.
Tyler Spangler—He’s a member of the ranch crew who can ride and wrangle cattle, but does he have ambitions that go beyond being a cowpoke forever?
Roger Grimes—Eve’s father bought up most of Roger’s ranch before he died four years earlier. Has Roger discovered a way to get it back?
Jacqueline Cordova—What’s her connection to the past?
Shelly McGinnis—Eve Brooks’s half sister has been dead for three years thanks to a kidnapping gone wrong.
The heart knows what the mind and body resist.
That true beauty comes from deep within the soul.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Excerpt
Chapter One
The kidnapper’s call was seven minutes late.
Eve Brooks glanced at her Rolex in the glare of her headlights for the third time in less than ten minutes.
She pulled a deep breath into her lungs and tried to remain calm. She’d parked at the precise angle the kidnapper had requested, followed his every instruction in the ransom note she’d found under her wiper blade the same day he’d been taken. So why hadn’t he called yet?
Frustrated, she shoved her hands into her coat pockets. Nervous tension turned to moisture on her palms as she clenched and unclenched her fists.
“He’ll call,” she whispered.
If he wants the ransom money, he’ll call.
Cool night air seeped through her coat and raised chill bumps on her skin. She shivered, caught up in the involuntary response that quickly turned to speculation.
Maybe Thomas was already dead? Murdered by the brazen kidnapper who’d taken him at gunpoint from the parking garage in full view of a security camera?
A low mechanical stutter dragged her gaze to the west. She heard a rumble she recognized as air brakes on a big rig. Welcoming the distraction, she stared at its two pinpricks of light in the distance, watching the semi crest a shallow rise in the endless ribbon of asphalt she’d used to find this godforsaken rest stop in the desert above Los Angeles—
The rasp of the telephone ringing cut through her thoughts.
In one heart-stopping motion she yanked the pay phone’s receiver from its cradle before it could ring a second time and pulled it to her ear.
“Yes. I’m here.”
“Listen carefully. I’m only going to say this once.” The kidnapper’s disguised voice modulated over the phone connection. “Leave the receiver off the hook. Take the money and walk straight out into the desert. Stay in between your headlight beams. Fifty paces out you’ll find a hole. Put the case in the hole and cover it with the dirt piled beside it. Come back and I’ll tell you where to find him.”
Dragging in an uneven breath, she willed a measure of courage into her bloodstream and straightened her spine.
“How do I know he’s still alive? I want proof.”
Dead airspace stretched between her and the man who’d kidnapped her business partner and soon-to-be husband, Thomas Avery, three days ago.
“Fair enough.” Commotion crackled at the other end of the line, sending anticipation through her body in waves.
“Eve—”
“Thomas! Thomas, are you—”
“He’s still breathing.” The man’s voice boomed over the connection, barely drowning out a thud in the background. Had he landed something against the side of Thomas’s head to shut him up so he could reclaim the phone?
“Don’t hurt him!”
“Shut up and bury the damn money!”
Like a robot operating on a battery charge of fear, she released the handset and felt a tug on her left earlobe as the receiver dropped.
A falling glimmer of gold caught in her car lights for a second before disappearing into the darkness on the ground at her feet.
Desperation needled her nerves and threatened to undo her composure. It was her earring. A gift from Thomas the day he’d proposed.
She stared down at the pea gravel but couldn’t pick out the golden hoop. She’d have to find it later, after she’d followed the kidnapper’s instructions. After he told her where to find Thomas. Nothing else mattered.
She turned and hurried to her car, opened the driver’s side door and pressed the trunk release. It would all be over soon. Thomas would be freed. They could go back to their life together. The wedding was less than a month away. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell him the Paris account he’d worked so hard to broker had come through the day he was taken. Her bridal gown collection would be strutted on fashion runways worldwide, thanks to him.
Emotion squeezed her throat shut as she fumbled for the case. She would give him the good news when she had him back.
Her fingers trembled as she wrapped them around the handle. She pulled the stainless steel briefcase from the trunk and closed the lid.
Half a million dollars in unmarke
d bills. It seemed like a pittance for a life. She couldn’t screw this up. She knew full well the consequences if she didn’t do exactly as she was told.
People died.
People you love died. But not this time. She’d done everything right. No cops. No questions. No witnesses. Just what he’d asked her to do.
Her doubts vanished as she made her way out into the desert, walking in a straight line, relying on the glare of the headlights to hold back the darkness and keep her on track.
The soil under her feet was soft and sandy, swallowing her steps as she moved deep into the night. The tangy scent of damp sagebrush clung to the air, but it offered little in the way of comfort.
A blue-tailed lizard darted from a clump of dry grass and scurried across the path in front of her.
Her heart jolted in her chest, drumming against her rib cage, but she fought the urge to jump back. Instead she kept moving, kept pushing forward, counting off the paces stride by stride, pounding down her fear with the beat of each number in her head.
At forty-eight she stopped.
Searching the ground two feet in front of her she saw a black hole carved out in the desert floor just where he said it would be.
Caution pricked her brain, leaving her thoughts to bleed out unchecked. This could end like her half sister Shelly’s kidnapping had. In murder, obscured by a trail of unanswered questions.
Eve pulled her shoulders back and gained a measure of certainty as she stared out across the desert landscape. Was he watching from somewhere out there? Gauging her level of commitment through a set of night-vision glasses, or goggles or whatever they were called?
Well, she wasn’t going to disappoint him. She wanted Thomas back. Alive.
Stepping forward, she went to her knees, put the briefcase on the ground next to the hole and shoved it in.
It clunked against the earthen bottom a couple of feet down. Using her hands, she pushed the gritty soil in, listening to it patter against the rigid case like hard rain. In a matter of minutes she’d filled the hole and smoothed the last mound of dirt over the top. She scrambled to her feet, dusted off her hands and hurried back to the phone.
Clutching the receiver, she raised it to her ear. “I buried the money like you asked. Now, where’s Thomas?”
“Directions to his location are taped to the bottom of the call box.” A click at the end of the line was chased by a dial tone.
Eve’s heart skipped a beat as she hung up the handset and slid her open hand, palm side up, into the narrow crevice between the telephone and the metal deck underneath it.
Feeling with her fingertips, she located a piece of paper. Crushing it against her palm with her thumb, she pulled it out.
Tension locked on every nerve ending in her body as she fumbled to open the folded note. Tipping it toward the headlights, she made out the address at the heart of the crude map. 16800 Pacific Coast Highway. Storm drain two...
A glitter of gold on the ground caught her attention. Her earring? She’d almost forgotten about it.
Fisting her hand around the map so it wouldn’t dissolve, she took a step forward and squatted down to pick up the hoop from its spot in the loose gravel.
The semi she’d spotted miles out was on top of her now, vibrating the earth under her feet. Headlight beams flicked across her as the truck rumbled past on the highway a stone’s throw away.
“Gotcha.” Eve hooked the earring with her right index finger and started to straighten.
The ear-splitting squeal of rupturing metal penetrated her awareness.
Time slowed as a brilliant flash of fire stabbed toward her on the left, sheathed in a deafening roar. Her teeth rattled in her head.
The ferocity of the blast hit her full force.
Percussion sent her skidding across the gravel like a tumbleweed. Her head slammed into the ground with a sickening thud that resonated to her toes.
Pain burned along the left side of her neck and across the top of her shoulder in hot trails of molten heat.
Stunned, she gasped for breath, her lungs on fire with the stench of her own singed flesh. Panic dragged her over the edge into an abyss. Darkness folded around her. She blinked, trying to focus her vision.
A copper-penny flavor bubbled inside her mouth. Blood? She closed her eyes, struggling to make sense of the last few seconds.
An explosion. From the telephone call box?
Realization gripped her mind as she digressed into a seizure. She succumbed to the convulsion.
There was no fighting the involuntary earthquake ripping through her muscles.
The squeal of truck tires locking up on asphalt penetrated the ringing in her eardrums.
Hope flooded her senses. She wouldn’t die alone tonight. The semi’s driver would stop.
The seizure dissipated.
Going with it, she relaxed into the dust and drifted down into unconsciousness, acutely aware of the golden hoop hooked on the index finger of her right hand and the map crushed in her fist.
Who would save Thomas now?
Chapter Two
Eight months later....
J.P. Ryker stared at the west-central Idaho landscape from the helicopter window and followed the direction of pilot Henry Brashear’s finger point.
“There it is,” he said, his voice coming in loud and clear over the bulky headset J.P. wore to drown out the drone of the rotor blades.
“The Bridal Falls Ranch. Homesteaded in 1890 by Miss Brooks’s great-grandparents, Parnell and Evelyn Brooks.”
“Frilly name for such a rugged place,” he said into the mouthpiece as he sized the mountain peaks jousting for the sky.
“It’s named after the landmark Evelyn Brooks discovered.”
“A waterfall?”
“Yes.” He let out an audible breath. “The prettiest veil of water on the entire mountain, according to every hardy Brooks woman who has ever horse-backed in for a look. There wasn’t a Brooks man willing to argue the observation.”
“So the name stuck?”
“Yeah.”
The pilot squeezed the aircraft through a gap between two epic mountains and dropped a thousand feet in elevation.
“How often do you fly in?”
“Twice a month, but I’m on permanent standby at the airport hangar in town whenever Miss Brooks requires my services.”
Eve Brooks, one of those hardy Brooks women the pilot had spoken of, was his newest client. Too bad he didn’t know any more about her situation now than he had a week ago when she’d contacted his L.A. security firm on a referral from a former client.
Only a face-to-face meeting with her was going to answer the myriad of questions he had and fatten the nearly empty case file tucked in his duffel bag.
It was a sorry start to an investigation: several publicity photos he’d pulled off the internet of the drop-dead gorgeous former model turned wedding gown designer to the stars, who dropped from sight six months ago like a stone in a pond, and a hard copy of a brief press release from her PR rep, stating that Eve had been injured in a minor accident and would be recovering at an undisclosed location. Hell, that could amount to a broken fingernail, based on the lack of specific detail in the release. But he had a hunch it had more to do with her admission to him that she’d been targeted by a kidnapper.
“Any other routes into this place?” he asked, studying the ranch’s layout deep in the valley below, surrounded by pastures of lush green grass and a sentry of mountains that peaked just below a layer of high, thin clouds brushing across the open sky.
“Four-wheel drive if you take the road to Yellow Pine. It’s rough, but doable unless we get a heavy thunderstorm. The highway in the other direction toward Cascade is paved but as twisted as a lasso on a steer.”
J.P. gritted his teeth and focused on the sprawling ranch below, taking a degree of comfort in its remote location. Isolation could give him the upper hand when it came to protecting Eve Brooks.
“How long have you worked for her?”
“Almost six months, but I was on staff here before her father died four years ago. I have to admit, it feels good to be working for a Brooks again.”
He glanced over at the smile of satisfaction on the pilot’s face. In the saddle again crossed his mind when he thought of the passel of cowboy clothes zipped up in his duffel bag. He was going in undercover as the newest hire on the working cattle ranch. Eve Brooks needed a bodyguard and someone to investigate the threats being made against her.