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space, sweetheart, but you have to be more responsible when you’re in public. Some of these guys…they aren’t what you want them to be.”

“It’s not safe here,” Tyler interrupted.

“Who the hell asked you?” Callie turned and snapped. “Your job isn’t to give us your opinion.”

“Actually it is,” Tyler countered. “Stay with the others, please.”

When Sydney first met Tyler Vandecourt, he had taken off his mirrored sunglasses and introduced himself with a sort of icy detachment. She had greeted him with her own brand of indifference. Aside from his soulless eyes, he sported a wiry frame that looked lean from years of training, he had scars on his knuckles and forearms, and there were a few odd markings on his face, all good signs that he knew what it was like to mix things up in a life-or-death situation.

“Let’s go, girls,” Sydney said. “You need to do as the man says.”

“He has a name, Mom,” Maisie said.

“Do as Tyler says,” Sydney said.

When they started walking again, Maisie looked up and said something loud enough for only Sydney to hear. “Mom, Del Paso is kind of a scary place.”

“It’s called El Paso, and it’s only scary to you because it’s not home,” Sydney said. “The crime rate here is one of the lowest in the nation, I think.”

Behind her, Tyler said, “Something isn’t right.” He said this as he tightened his proximity to her and the girls. “Tell Callie to slow down, and keep Zoey close.”

“I know it’s your job to be paranoid,” Sydney said, “but you’re scaring Maisie.”

Tyler glanced down into the eight-year-old’s liquid brown eyes—eyes that were impossibly big and super cute—and then he returned his attention to Sydney. She saw herself and the girls reflected in his mirrored sunglasses. And then she saw a mud-colored van rudely cutting through traffic.

Turning around, she saw the van moving too fast. She barely heard herself cry out for Zoey and Callie when the screech of rubber skidding over asphalt threw the crowd into high alert.

Tyler went for his pistol, but the distinctive sounds of gunfire popped through the air. To her horror, the bullets caught Tyler right in the chest, putting him down hard.

Three men poured out of the van, all of them armed, all of them wearing dark sunglasses, ball caps, and COVID masks. Panicked, Sydney pulled Maisie too hard while grabbing Zoey’s hand. Fanning out, one guy grabbed Callie while the other ripped Zoey from Sydney’s grasp.

She started screaming for help, but no one tried to help them. The girls were screaming as they were dragged away, and still, no one moved to help them.

When the third man came for Maisie, Sydney tried to protect her, but the fist that punched Sydney in the ribs had her folding over in pain. The kidnapper jerked Maisie out of her hand, the little girl screaming bloody murder.

When two men finally came for her, she tried to fight them off, but it was no use. They were too strong. As they hustled her to the van with her girls, she kicked and swore and tried squirming free. Then a shot rang out. One of the men trying to snatch her grunted hard and collapsed to a knee. Another shot barked out, hitting the man again. By this time, the other man had gotten her to the van. A deafening roar of returning gunfire erupted, fraying her already battered nerves. She was roughly shoved inside with her girls and several other men. As the exchange of gunfire peaked, and then tapered off, the man who had been shot crawled into the van beside her. He rolled on his back, pulled his legs in, and then let out a god-awful groan. She glanced down and saw blood smeared all over the bare metal floor.

“¡Vamonos!” one of the men yelled as he jumped inside and slammed the van’s sliding side door shut.

The driver smashed the accelerator and the van screeched off, weaving in and out of foot traffic as they made their getaway.

As one of the kidnappers tried to stop his partner’s bleeding, Sydney’s eldest two daughters fought the men who took them. Their captors solved that problem within seconds. Not only did they zip-tie everyone’s wrists, they duct-taped their mouths shut, too.

She leveled her scared, hateful eyes on the men. The man with the duct tape caught sight of her hostility and responded by duct-taping everyone’s eyes shut. The second the sticky tape was pulled across her face and smoothed down, she told herself not to panic. It was scary now but everything would be okay. That’s when the man covered her head with some sort of a sack. Claustrophobia set in and that’s when she started to panic.

Chapter Four

OTIS FYKES

Otis was scrambling eggs and frying bacon when his cell phone buzzed. He double-tapped the screen, accessed his messages, and read the text saying that the Camden family had been taken. A big smile broke over his face.

He’d made it to the big leagues for sure! He texted back right away: EXCELLENT.

Unable to stop smiling, he finished cooking breakfast. He checked the time and frowned. Esmeralda would be there soon.

Due to this morning’s business both on the phone and the toilet, he’d already made his daughter, Janie, wait too long to eat. He didn’t want her to wait another minute.

The phone started ringing and it looked like Janie would be waiting a little longer. He put down the spatula, wiped his hands on the dishtowel at the sink, and took the call.

“Give me the good news,” he said.

He snugged the phone in between his ear and his shoulder while he turned off the stove to stop the loud popping sounds and the splattering grease.

“We have them,” the voice said with

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