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Time slowed as the masked man’s gaze went past her, locking onto Owen. Ellie couldn’t see his facial features, but she felt his malice straight to her bone marrow. A fear unlike anything she’d ever experienced—and she’d been through some terrifying moments in her life—catapulted her heart into overdrive. She reached for Owen, but then she saw the second masked man closing in from the front of her vehicle.
He came fast and hard, grabbing her shoulders and yanking her back. His grip was rough enough to snap her instincts and her old training into action.
Ellie jabbed him in the stomach. Once. Twice. The movement was practiced, designed to loosen his hold, but her focus was divided. The other masked man was already lifting a wailing Owen out of the vehicle.
He was kidnapping him!
Raw fury and a mother’s protective instinct sent fresh adrenaline coursing through her. Ellie rammed her head backward, catching the man holding her under the chin. His grip loosened, and she pivoted hard, breaking his hold. Her arm came up and she struck fast, the heel of her palm ramming into the bridge of his nose. It gave way with a crunch.
He screamed, staggering away as blood gushed down the front of his mask.
Ellie spun. “Owen!”
The other attacker had him in his arms. Poor Owen thrashed wildly, his terrified screams piercing the night air.
No one was taking her baby.
She launched herself across the space, driving a kick into the kidnapper’s kneecap. It buckled beneath him with a crack. He dropped sideways, and before he hit the pavement, she snatched Owen from his arms. The baby’s weight was a welcome relief, but there was no time to savor it. Mr. Broken Nose was recovering quickly. He staggered to his feet, rage evident in his stance, and snapped open a collapsible baton with practiced ease. One strike, and she’d likely be on the ground.
Her mind raced through options in a split second. They were boxed in by the two men on either side, her SUV, and the van. There was only one escape route.
Ellie lunged for the SUV's still-open door. Tumbling into the backseat, she yanked the door closed and slammed the lock down. Owen clung to her shirt, still crying. Her hands shook as she shoved the diaper bag out of the way and tucked him under the seat, shielding him with her body.
Her phone. She needed her phone if there was any chance of surviving this.
Ellie’s shaking fingers fumbled with the device as she yanked it from her back pocket. She dialed the police chief. Her voice was tight and urgent when he picked up. “Roy, two men are attacking me in the parking lot. They’re trying to kidnap Owen?—”
Glass shattered.
The side window exploded into a rain of shards as the baton slammed through it. The man's shadow loomed across the front seat.
Ellie turned, shielding her baby with her body, and whispered a prayer through clenched teeth.
“God, please help us.”
TWO
Not his case. Not his problem. And yet, here he was.
Texas Ranger Daniel Perez settled his tan cowboy hat on his head. The church parking lot teemed with official vehicles from the Silver Creek Police Department and the Kendall County Sheriff’s Department. Townsfolk lined the west side of the parking lot, held back by deputies and yellow crime scene tape. A familiar voice hollered his name. He turned to find his mother waving from the corner of the parking lot. She stood surrounded by a gaggle of silver-haired ladies, all of whom he’d known his whole life. One of the many perks of growing up in a small town.
“Thank goodness you’re here.” Marta hugged him tight when he bent to kiss her cheek. The familiar scent of her lavender perfume momentarily carried him back to his childhood. “Ellie needs you. Someone tried to kidnap her baby!”
Ellie Brooks. He’d never met her, but he’d heard plenty during his weekly phone calls with his mother. Marta had taken the new mom under her wing. Not surprising. She’d never met a stranger in her life and, despite having a slew of grandkids, never tired of adding one more to the pack of chaos.
“I can’t imagine why anyone would kidnap a child.” Marta pressed her hands to her cheeks. Tears filmed her dark brown eyes. “And from a church parking lot. It’s too horrible for words.”
The ladies behind her clucked their agreement. Virginia Winters, one of Marta’s oldest friends, wrapped an arm around her shoulders in silent comfort. Daniel envied their innocence. He could list dozens of reasons someone might kidnap a child, a grim knowledge gained from nearly two decades in law enforcement. Sometimes, he felt far older than his 49 years.
“You’ll help Ellie, won’t you?” Virginia demanded. “These criminals need to be found and put into prison.”
Every one of the ladies nodded in firm agreement. Their fury and determination were palpable. Daniel feared they might breach the yellow crime scene tape and organize a manhunt of their own—armed with purses, casserole dishes, and a list of suspects alphabetized by maiden name.
He’d learned long ago never to underestimate the power of Silver Creek’s matriarchs. These were the women who arranged marriages, revived church budgets, and pulled off fundraisers with military-grade precision. Catching criminals wasn’t in their usual repertoire, but he wouldn’t put it past them to try. That’s why he chose his next words carefully.
“I’ll offer my assistance, but ultimately, this case is Chief O’Neal’s.” Texas Rangers operated mostly as support for local law enforcement. Only in rare exceptions could they take over a case. Most of the time they had to be asked. Daniel motioned behind him. “He has the support of the sheriff’s department and may well have everything in hand.”
Virginia waved away his words. “This is an all-hands-on-deck situation. If Roy gives you a lick of grief about taking on the case, you send him our way.”