Now the DNA evidence said a known suspect was in the area, his sights set perhaps on the people in Dallas or another Texas city—or anywhere in the country.
“I’ll call Taggart,” he said. He turned to Carly. “You’re right, baby. We no longer have any choice.” Linc pulled out his cell, but Carly’s phone rang first.
Christ, not El Jefe,he thought.Not yet. Linc gritted his teeth to keep from snatching the phone out of Carly’s hand and let her answer the call.
* * *
Looking down at the blocked number on her iPhone, Carly felt a crushing weight settle on her chest. “It’s Zapata or one of his men.”
“Take the call, honey,” Linc said, looking as if he wished he could grab her up and carry her out of danger.
She took a deep breath, pressed the phone against her ear. “This is Carly.”
“Good evening, Ms. Drake.” The familiar voice rolled over her, rough, guttural, tinged with Spanish, unmistakable. A chill slipped down her spine.
“This is your business partner,” Zapata said. “Are you ready to take delivery of our first load?”
Her fingers trembled as they tightened around the phone, which she held so that Linc could hear. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me. Why are you so determined to get Drake Trucking involved? If the money’s as good as you say, there must be other companies that would gladly do your bidding, no questions asked.”
“I do not want other companies! I want Drake!” His voice steadied. “You wish to know why that is?”
She could hear the effort it was taking him to control his temper. “Tell me.”
“Joe Drake is the reason! Your grandfather humiliated me. When I came to him with a simple business proposal, he laughed in my face. No one laughs at El Jefe! Do you understand me? No one!”
Carly started shaking. She felt Linc’s big hand settle on her shoulder and took a steadying breath. “I understand.”
“I am not sure you do. That is why I have taken out a small insurance policy.” There was a shuffling sound and a new voice came over the line, one that sliced into her heart and threatened to shred it to pieces.
“Carly? It’s me . . . Zach.”
“Zach!”
“Men came to Grandma’s house. They beat up Tom and made me go with them. I’m scared, Carly.”
She tried to sound calm. Linc’s face was flushed with fury, every muscle in his body taut. “Ever ything’s going to be okay, Zach. I’m going to do exactly what El Jefe wants me to and he’s going to let you go.”Please God.
“But—”
El Jefe’s voice came back on the line. “So you have finally come to your senses. This is good. The boy’s grandparents have been warned to say nothing. They are waiting for your call, your assurance that the boy will be all right.”
“I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt him.”
“Listen carefully. At six-thirtyP.M.you will drive your truck out of the yard. You personally, no one else. You will take Route 19 south, makeyour way to Waco, then drive south on 77, all the way to Victoria. Be at Big Vic’s Truck Stop no later than oneA.M.Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“At the truck stop, a man will join you. He will direct you to the pickup site. Once the cargo is loaded, other instructions will follow.”
“What . . . what about Zach?”
“The boy will be waiting at your final destination. Alive if you do what I say.”
Carly gasped as Linc jerked the phone out of her hand.
“She isn’t driving,” he said. “The truck can make the pickup and delivery, but Carly isn’t driving—I am.”
Terrified Linc was going to get Zach killed, Carly leaned up so she could hear Zapata’s reply.
