Free Colorado Abduction by Cassie Miles Page A

grudge. When he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, his hand was steady.
    If Miller was one of the kidnappers, he had to be the coolest criminal Burke had ever encountered, and that list included professional hit men, bank robbers and terrorists.
    “Do you live in town?” Burke asked.
    “I’ve got a little place up the road near Delta. It belonged to my ma before she died.”
    Nicole could be there . “Address?”
    “I don’t have to tell you.”
    Burke slid his FBI shield from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Yeah, you do.”
    “FBI.” He sneered. “Of course, the high-and-mighty Carlisles would call in the feds. They know people. They’ve got more money than is right.”
    “You know what happened to Nicole.”
    “I heard about it. Everybody’s buzzing.” He set his mug down on the table. “It’s a shame. Nicole’s a nice woman. Can’t say the same for her husband.”
    “Somebody might have kidnapped her to get back at him.”
    Anger flared in his squinty eyes. “It’s no secret that I hate the Carlisles. Because of them, I lost my livestock and my livelihood. My wife left me. Took my son. If it wasn’t for Sam Logan paying me big bucks to rent my land, I’d have lost my ranch, as well.”
    When he stood, Burke growled, “Sit down, Miller. I have more questions.”
    “Here’s your answer.” Miller remained standing. “I didn’t kidnap Nicole.”
    Burke had no intention of letting this guy walk away. He glanced around the café. There were only four other customers. Burke saw no reason to bust up this pleasant little establishment if this confrontation turned physical.
    He took out his wallet, peeled off a twenty, dropped it on the table and stood. “Let’s take this outside.”
    Miller made a beeline for the door and Burke followed.
    Still on the phone, Carolyn watched with concern in her eyes. He gave her a wink. If it came down to a fight, he could take Miller without breaking a sweat. Not only was Burke six inches taller and probably forty pounds heavier, but he knew how to fight. He’d been taught by the best at Quantico. Before the FBI, he’d had five years on the street as a Chicago cop.
    Truth be told, he almost wanted Miller to resist. Carolyn had eased her tension with tears. Burke would find a similar release in kicking butt.
    On the sidewalk, Miller turned to face him. His thumbs hitched in his pockets. Not a fighting stance.
    “Here’s my address.” He rattled off a street number. “Is that all you want from me?”
    “Where were you last night?”
    “Home in bed. Alone.”
    “Before that?”
    “I work as a handyman now that I don’t have a ranch to take care of. And I had a light day. I was done by two.”
    “Can anyone verify your whereabouts?”
    His thin mouth curved in a smirk. “I own a horse. You could talk to him.”
    Burke had faced men like Miller before. Men who believed they’d been wronged and the world was against them. They expected the worst. And they lived their mean little lives for the sake of their grudges. Even if Miller had nothing to do with Nicole’s kidnapping, he was taking great pleasure from the pain this caused Dylan and Carolyn.
    “This morning,” Burke said, “when you drove into town on your way to the café, did you pass the gas station?”
    He gave a nod. “I did.”
    “Did you see anyone?”
    “Matter of fact, I did. I noticed because I needed a fill-up, and I thought O’Toole might have opened early. But it was just a guy using the phone.”
    “Did you recognize him?”
    “Sure. It was Sam Logan.”

Chapter Eight
    Burke and Carolyn, who continued talking into her cell phone, returned to the gas station—which still wasn’t open for business. Sheriff Trainer had parked beside the Carlisle truck, and Trainer himself leaned against the wall beside the phone. When he saw them coming, he stubbed out his cigarette and tossed the butt in a trash can.
    “Is this the phone?” the sheriff asked.
    Burke nodded. “Be sure