Colorado Abduction by Cassie Miles Page A

everybody nicknames,” MacKenzie said. “You know, like the real Secret Service. When they talk about the President, they call him POTUS. It stands for President Of The United States.”
    “I thought HQ would mean headquarters. Is it a person?”
    “Yes, ma’am. It’s you.”
    She glanced over at Lucas and Neville who appeared to be doing their best not to laugh. “What does that stand for? HQ?”
    “That’s not important.” MacKenzie looked a bit scared. “We had to come up with a whole lot of code names really fast. Like your brother. He’s BB for Big Boss. And Burke is TF for Tall Fed.”
    “And HQ?”
    “Ma’am, it stands for Heifer Queen. And that’s not saying you’re a cow or a heifer, which is a cow that hasn’t had a calf. It means you’re the queen of the whole ranch, cattle and all. And that’s accurate because you’re—”
    “Stop.” She held up a hand to forestall further excuses. “My code name from now on is…Carolyn.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    She pivoted and left the office. Heifer Queen. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d been called.
    B URKE CHECKED HIS WRISTWATCH . Approximately one hour and ten minutes ago, the first gray light of dawn had crept across the windowsills in the dining room. He’d pulled up the shades and given tasks to his three agents. Dylan had joined them.
    After they had coffee and something to eat, Corelli, dressed in his suit and tie, had cleared away the plates. Agent Corelli was a bit obsessive-compulsive—an appropriate character disorder for someone who worked with complex and often frustrating electronics.
    Now, they had settled into a routine of monitoring phone calls, studying maps and pacing. Waiting.
    Burke looked toward the door to the dining room, anticipating the moment when Carolyn would appear. In addition to the pleasure of seeing her, he needed her help to execute a plan that might bring her sister-in-law home safely. Only Carolyn could help him; she held the key.
    When she finally came through the door with coffee mug in hand and her smooth black hair falling loose to her shoulders, her gaze went straight to him. Without speaking, she seemed to be asking a question. Without threatening, she threw down a challenge.
    How the hell would he convince her to do something she most likely wouldn’t want to do? Sweet talk wouldn’t work; she’d see right through him. Nor could he scare her into going along with his plan because this woman was fearless. Burke figured his best tactic was honesty.
    Dylan slung his arm around her shoulder. “About time you got up, sis. It’s almost half past eight.”
    She hugged him back. With their long lean bodies, matching black hair and green eyes, they looked like a male and female reflection of each other. The yin and yang of the Carlisles.
    “Anything happening?” she asked. “Other than a bunch of crazy cowpokes yakking on walkie-talkies and pretending to be surveillance experts?”
    “Don’t be snippy,” Dylan said. “Setting up the perimeter gave the men something to do. It’s not like anybody can concentrate on work while this is going on.”
    Burke noticed that neither brother nor sister had mentioned Nicole’s name. They held the anguish he knew they must be feeling at a distance, and he appreciated their tough, taciturn attitude. In other kidnapping cases he’d worked, the families had been devastated to the point of breakdown. This was better.
    “Good morning, Carolyn,” he said, remembering to be polite. “Deploying the ranch hands might look crazy, but you’ve got to admit that we’re well protected. Nobody’s going to get close enough to take another shot at this ranch.”
    “I’m sorry about your van,” she said.
    “It was a rental.”
    Dylan directed her to a computer monitor where Agent Corelli sat with headphones. “Let me show you the setup. All of the landlines for the phones are routed through this monitoring station. The ringers are turned off, which is real good.