Free Winter's Destiny by Nancy Allan Page B

don’t need an ambulance. I need to find my son.”
    He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Wait here. And I mean wait. Don’t even flex a muscle; I’m in no mood for trouble.” He hobbled around to the back door, opened it, and keeping an eye on her, reached into his first aid kit. When he returned, she was on the cell phone. “I’ve got to go, Sheriff. I don’t know what’s happening to my son. I can’t sit here, doing nothing.”
    Dallas put an index finger under her chin and tipped her head up so he could apply the alcohol swab to the cut on her forehead. She jerked away. “Stay still. It’s only alcohol. You’re harder to work on than a trapped rabbit.” When he was finished he stood back and examined his handiwork. She looked a mess.
    “What are you going to do with my Jeep?”
    “It’ll be flat-decked to the impoundment lot. You can have it back in the morning, but it’ll need new tires.”
    Amy checked the time impatiently. “Are you arresting me, Sheriff?”
    “You’re in the front seat. It’s when you’re in the back, that you’ve got a problem.”
    “If that’s the case, please call me a cab. I’m not going to find my son sitting here.”
    Dallas ignored her. “What happened at the house?”
    Amy hesitated. “All I can tell you is that they’re threatening to hurt Jamie because I called 911 Friday night. God knows what they’ll do if they find out I’m talking to you right now, especially after I was warned.”
    “Warned? You mean, threatened?”
    Amy turned away from him. “Don’t ask questions, Sheriff. I can’t tell you anything. They made that pretty clear. Call the cab, please.”
    He gripped her arm and swung her around in the seat to face him. He bent over so that his face was close to hers. His voice was hushed, angry, and almost inaudible, but Amy heard every word clearly. “Listen to me, Mrs. Johnson. You’re in over your head. These men will kill you and your son. They didn’t think twice about pushing that car off the cliff and according to print results, you’re dealing with a couple of killers. The only hope you have is to level with me—and fast—before they make their next move.” His pale blue eyes blazed with an intensity that was frightening. “Do I make myself clear?”
    Amy considered her options. The moving van was long gone. Neither Dan, Nita, nor Brandon was taking calls. If any chance existed of finding Jamie now, she would need the sheriff’s help. There was no other choice. She closed her eyes and nodded.
    Dallas spoke briefly with his deputies, then maneuvered his Yukon around the spikes, and headed into town. He glanced at her. “Okay. Start talking.”
    Amy told him what had happened since they had spoken twenty-four hours earlier. She finished by saying; “Things are getting progressively worse by the hour.”
    Dallas parked his Yukon in the secure parking area behind his office and led Amy inside. He motioned her to a chair opposite his desk. “I’ll be about fifteen minutes. There’s coffee around the corner,” he said pointing out the door.
    While he made calls, Amy found the small lunchroom and poured something black and caustic looking into a paper cup. With that in hand, she paced back and forth in front of the microwave, wired with worry for Jamie. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to him. Why hadn’t she gone to Nita’s and picked him up first thing this morning? If she had, he’d be with her now. She berated herself for about ten minutes then tossed the coffee down the sink and returned to Dallas’s office.
    When the last call ended, he looked up at her. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got so far. First, the moving van you saw on Lighthouse Road belongs to Coast Moving. Your furniture is at the company’s storage facility. You can do what you like with that information. You might want to approach them regarding the damage their moving truck did to your Jeep. The driver collected his pay and then