No longer trusting her legs, she backed toward the bed, then slowly sank to a sitting position. She had the sudden, irrational urge to tell him she loved him, fearing this moment would be her only chance, but she didn't.
"Watch yourself," he said. Then, without looking back, he opened the door and stepped into the night.
Erin slapped her badge down on the counter and shot the desk clerk her best don't-mess-with-me glare. "I'm a police officer. I'm commandeering a vehicle for a police emergency."
The desk clerk of the Pioneer Motel stared at her as if she'd just told him she was going to shoot off one of his fingers. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"I need a vehicle," she snapped. "Now!"
The young man jumped. "Uh… is a truck okay?"
"Fine. Give me the keys." She looked at the clock on the wall behind him. It was twelve-thirty. Outside, a crack of thunder vibrated the walls. How on earth was she going to find Stephanie?
The clerk unsnapped a key chain from his belt loop and handed it to her. "Should I call the police or something?"
"Chief Ryan has already been apprised of the situation."
The young man didn't look convinced. "When do I get my truck back?"
"You can pick it up at the station later this afternoon." She took the key. "Where's the vehicle?"
"Out back. Next to the Dumpster."
The pickup truck should have been in the Dumpster as far as Erin was concerned. She stalled it twice before getting out of the parking lot, and once on the way to her apartment. By the time she unlocked the door, her heart was raging with frustration. The minutes were ticking by, and she didn't have the slightest idea how to find Stephanie. Her police training told her to find Nick or call Frank in Chicago. The part of her that was crushed by guilt because she'd endangered a child's life wasn't thinking quite as logically. Erin knew DiCarlo wanted her, not Stephanie. It made perfect sense to offer up herself in exchange for the child.
The phone jangled as she closed the door behind her. Crossing the room, she snatched it up on the second ring. "McNeal," she said breathlessly.
Thick silence made the hairs at her nape stand on end.
"I've been calling your apartment every five minutes for the last half hour, Officer McNeal."
A sane person would have frozen in fear at the sound of Vic DiCarlo's voice. Erin wasn't feeling particularly sane.
Satisfaction rolled slowly through her that he'd done something so predictable. Thinking fast, she pressed the record button of her answering machine. "I've been busy," she said levelly. "You've got something I want."
"Ah, you don't disappoint me. I appreciate a woman who likes to get down to business quickly."
The cold ruthlessness in his voice made her break into a sweat. "Where's the little girl?" she asked curtly.
"I've been taking good care of her. I have a soft spot for children, you know."
Erin closed her eyes against the sudden rush of heat behind her lids. She tried not to imagine how frightened Stephanie must be. How helpless she must feel not being able to walk or run away from the bad man. Erin 's police training told her to keep this impersonal. To keep her emotions out of the situation. But the part of her that was a woman and loved that child, the part of her that loved Nick, cried out with pain and fear and outrage. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you," she said.
"We both know I'm not interested in this child. I am, however, very interested in you."
She gripped the phone, her heart thundering. "What do you want?"
"I want you in exchange for the child, of course."
"I'm listening."
"There's a deserted grain elevator on Highway 59 about ten miles south of Logan Falls."
She looked at her watch. "I can be there in ten minutes."
"A word of warning, Officer McNeal. Come alone. If you call the police, if you contact anyone, including that police chief of yours, I won't hesitate to kill this child."
Bile rose in her throat, but she choked it down. Her hands shook so violently that for a moment she thought she would drop the phone. Oh, God, please don't let him hurt her. "I'll come alone," she said.
The line disconnected.
Nick paced the confines of the police station lobby like a caged beast. Terror and frustration rampaged through him. Something darker hovered just beneath the surface. The thought of his sweet, innocent child frightened and alone twisted like a knife in his gut. The thought of losing her-
He broke off the thought with ruthless precision. He wouldn't think of losing her. He wouldn't let that happen. He would die before letting her down again.
The phone shrilled. He snatched it up, cutting the ring short. "Ryan."
"It's Frank. I'm en route. Any news?"
"No." The quality of the connection told him Frank was on his cellular. Nick had called him on his way from the motel to the police station and briefed him on the situation.
"If I can hold it at eighty without getting stopped by the Indiana Highway Patrol, I should be there in an hour. Have you contacted the FBI?"
Nick glanced at his watch, realizing with a stark sense of despair it had only been five minutes since he'd hung up with the Chicago FBI office. "They're sending a team."
"What about Erin?"
Nick had sworn he wouldn't think about her. He didn't want to think about her. Didn't want to dig his emotional hole any deeper than it already was. But the simple utterance of her name was all it took to bring the image of her to the forefront of his mind. Make him remember the way she'd looked at him when they'd made love, when she'd been open and vulnerable beneath him, her eyes as soft as a Midwest sunset. He didn't like the feelings roiling in his chest. They were too close to something real and terrifying he didn't want to face. They made him realize he was in miles over his head and floundering helplessly to save himself.
God help him, he hadn't wanted to fall in love with her. "She's at the Pioneer Motel." Nick's voice was hoarse.
"Good. Keep her there." The other man paused. "How are you holding up?"
"If DiCarlo hurts Steph, I'm going to kill him, Frank. I swear, I'll kill him."
"Easy, partner. Don't go there."
No false reassurances from Frank. Nick thought bitterly. But then, Frank was a cop. Cops were straight with each other, even in the face of tragedy. Both men knew what kind of man Vic DiCarlo was. Just as they knew what he was capable of.
The thought of a monster like DiCarlo getting his hands on his sweet child filled Nick with rage. The power of that rage stunned him, and for the first time in his life he wondered what he was capable of.
But he knew Frank was right. Letting his imagination run away with him would only make him crazy. He wouldn't do his daughter any good if he was a basket case. But he was so worried about her he could barely form a coherent thought. He needed to calm down. Think. Come up with a plan.
"Hang tight, partner," Frank said. "You've got my number. Call me if you hear from DiCarlo."
Nick disconnected, and looked around the room. He grappled for calm, ended up wanting to throw something. He wanted to break something with his bare hands. He wanted to hit something, anything to relieve the tension that had built up inside him like an overheated pressure cooker.
"What have you done with her, you bastard?" he said aloud.
For the first time in his law enforcement career, Nick was at a loss. He didn't know what to do or where to start. He didn't know how to get Stephanie back. He'd considered calling in his deputies, but instinct told him to wait. If DiCarlo got spooked, it was hard telling what he would do. But it nearly killed him that he couldn't do anything but wait.
Sinking into the chair behind his desk, he dropped his face into his hands and closed his eyes. His entire world had come apart in the last hours. First, he'd managed to get tangled up with a woman who would surely leave his life in tatters. Then his beloved child had been taken by a ruthless mafioso.