As they drove, Ryan recognized the approaching farm by a series of locks that controlled water flowing into large ponds adjacent to the road. Then they saw the large feed silo with the Wildcat Catfish logo proudly announcing they had reached their destination. Ryan decided to drive by without stopping.
“This is it,” he said excitedly. “What’s your bet Jarrod’s machine is under the tarp on that Peterbilt? Notice all the other vehicles have the Wildcat logo? That one doesn’t… I’ll stake you anything it belongs to the guys that nabbed Jer,” he observed, a frown creasing his forehead.
“Ryan, slow down,” Sarah said, craning her neck around to get a better look.
“Not just yet. They’ll have posted a lookout and I don’t want to draw any attention. These guys aren’t prone to mistakes…no reason to believe they’re not watching the traffic, too.”
“Ryan, we didn’t come all this way just to observe, did we?” she asked, looking confused.
Ryan shrugged. “Of course not, but we can’t just storm the place demanding they return Jer. We’re going in, but we need to be strategic.”
“Okay, you’re right…so now can we call the authorities?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure, but just Morris, no one else. Tell him we’re at Wildcat Catfish Farm and we suspect the kidnappers are holed up here, too,” Ryan replied.
They drove about a mile past the main entrance of the farm and Ryan pulled alongside a work truck parked next to one of the ponds. The truck was unlocked. He reached inside and took one of the worker’s hats and a denim coat that looked much too small for his large frame. He grabbed it anyway.
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked, looking increasingly puzzled.
“We’re turning around and you’re going to drop me off at the entrance. They’ll think I’m an employee returning from the field. I want to look around. If I see a black van we’ll know for sure that Jer’s here. Then we call the police.”
“Are you out of your mind? Ryan, we’ve settled this. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together,” she said emphatically. “Now, please…no more talk about splitting up.”
“Don’t you understand how dangerous this is?” he asked, trying not to sound argumentative. “These guys play by different rules. They have no compunction. They’ve murdered, kidnapped, and robbed to get to this point. Yes, we need the police, Sarah…but I want to confirm Jer and Jarrod are really here. If the police raid that house and they aren’t inside, these men will retaliate. We’d lose them for sure. We can’t take that chance. Don’t worry…I’ll be careful,” he said reassuringly.
“Shoot! I hate when you’re right,” she said, grinding her teeth. “But I’m calling Morris first. He needs to know we’ve located the kidnappers.”
“Agreed.”
Sarah called Morris and left another message. She provided him their whereabouts and the plan to confirm if Jeremiah was present. She promised to call 911 when they had verification.
Ryan returned to the Wildcat Farm entrance and parked in the area opposite the visitor parking. He put on the ball cap, picked up the denim coat, and threw it over his shoulder.
Sarah stayed with the vehicle and watched her ex-husband walk toward the closest service building. The overhead retractable steel door was closed, forcing Ryan to enter from the side door.
As he entered the building a shot of adrenalin quickened his pulse. Inside were two black SUVs, conspicuous by the absence of the familiar Wildcat logo. Two men were busily working near the back of one of the vehicles but didn’t notice his presence.
Confident the vehicles proved the authenticity of Jarrod’s messages, Ryan decided to peek into the back windows of the main house, hoping for visual proof that Jer was inside. He maintained a casual gait, trying to imitate an employee who knew his business. He walked past the side of the house looking for an open window, but the shades had all been drawn. He continued searching but stopped abruptly at a gate leading into the back of the residence. The entire backyard was visible from the interior of the house, but the pool reflected off the porch glass, making it impossible to see inside. The risk of going any further was too great.
Ryan turned to retrace his steps and was startled by a tall man standing at the edge of the house holding a gun. Even though he had never seen the man’s face, he knew immediately this was the same man who had kidnapped Jeremiah.
“Welcome to the party, Mr. Marshall,” Stuart Farley said, keeping his 9-mm Glock pointed directly at Ryan’s head. “I don’t know how you found us, but I assure you it was the stupidest thing you ever did. Now put your hands on top of your head and let’s join your wife and son inside,” he said tersely, walking cautiously to get behind Ryan.
“You know…I was supposed to kill you and your cousin that night in Stanford. I was denied that pleasure by the dumb PI tracking your son. But now it seems I’ll get a second chance. Get moving,” he said, shoving Ryan hard in the back, keeping the gun trained on the back of his head.
“So it was you I chased down the street in Stanford,” Ryan said, with a mixture of satisfaction and alarm, mindful that he was completely at the man’s mercy. “You shouldn’t be so sure of yourself, mister. If I could find this place…so can the police. You guys are busted.”
“Shut the fuck up and get inside,” Farley demanded, forcefully shoving Ryan again as they walked. “Let’s see what Boss has to say.”
Pig-headed fool, Ryan thought. Jarrod was right on the money. Damnit, I shouldn’t have stopped Sarah from calling the authorities. Lieutenant Morris is our only hope now…
FIFTY-NINE
Wildcat Catfish Farm, Kentucky
The first thing Ryan saw as he entered the main quarters of Wildcat Farm was Sarah, her hands bound behind her back, tape across her mouth. She was seated and a man held a gun to her head. When he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, he lowered his hands and charged toward her. He only made it part way before Richard Kilmer and Sully Metusack blocked his path, wrestling him to the ground amidst a great commotion.
Ryan’s pent-up rage-brewing from the moment in Taos when Lieutenant Westbrook accused him of breaking into Jarrod’s office- erupted like a dormant volcano. His powerful build was more than a match for any one of Kilmer’s men, but he finally succumbed when Farley delivered a sharp blow with the Glock to the side of his head. As he went limp, Sarah’s struggle to break free intensified, her face turning crimson from fury. Farley straddled Ryan’s body, cinching a snap tie to his wrists, not unlike a cowboy roping the feet of a struggling calf.
Fully restrained and partially dazed, Ryan nonetheless spewed a steady stream of vulgarities, swearing on his mother’s grave to tear their hearts out. Tape applied to his mouth brought the surprise uproar to an abrupt halt. They gathered him up and shoved him unceremoniously next to Sarah at the table. Ryan and Sarah looked at each other dejectedly, wondering how things could have gone so wrong.
“We’re blown,” Sully said, helping to get Ryan seated as he still struggled to overcome his assailants.
“Alright…ever’one, just calm the fuck down, ” Kilmer said, backing away from Ryan, smoothing his hair and straightening his shirt. “Nothin’s blown, mates, ‘til we figure how they found us. I’ll bet it’s that fuckin’ Conrad again…git ‘is sorry arse in here,” Kilmer demanded, laboring to catch his breath. He was momentarily exhausted from the unexpected exertion of manhandling Ryan into submission.
Throughout the house a loud scream arose when Jer, Sela, and Jarrod heard Ryan’s voice and realized that he had been captured. Their voices cried out from back of the house to acknowledge their presence. Kilmer’s men visited each in turn, quieting the commotion, threatening physical harm to anyone who didn’t obey. Ventura cut Jarrod free and led him to the great room, keeping a steady gun at the ready.