Lady Killer (The Taken Book 3)

by Kathleen Creighton

  “The guy I’ve been sharing a room with—yeah. He’s—”

  “Obviously not a traveling salesman.” She said it with a hint of a smile on her lips, but no humor at all in her eyes.

  Tony felt a sickening dropping sensation in his stomach. He knew it was finally here—the moment he’d been dreading, the moment he’d known would have to come. And he knew it was going to be worse than he’d imagined, even before she said the words, in a voice that chilled him to his core.

  “So, who is he, Tony? And while we’re at it, who are you? And why are you really here?”

  Chapter 10

  The amazing thing, Brooke thought, was that she felt nothing. Except for a strange quivering in her stomach, she was numb. She remembered she’d experienced much the same sensation the day they’d come to arrest her for murder, so she understood that this was some kind of shock, and that it would wear off eventually, and when it did, the pain would bury her. She could only hope she’d be alone when it happened.

  In the meantime, in the calm and unreal world she lived in now, she watched Tony’s face, and it seemed to flicker and shimmer like the images on an old-time movie screen.

  “I’m exactly who I told you I am,” he said in a voice that seemed unnaturally calm. Then he paused, and his eyes flared golden for an instant before he closed them. “As for why I’m here…”

  “Who’s Holt?”

  He let the breath out with a hissing sound. “A private investigator.”

  “A private investigator.” The shivering inside her was spreading through her body, and she wrapped her arms across herself in a futile effort to contain it. “So, who’s he investigating? Me?”

  “Not exactly…”

  “Who hired him? Was it you?”

  “No! Brooke, listen to—” He reached for her, and she threw up her arms to fend him off and stepped back, violently cringed away from him.

  “So, what then? Let me guess. He hired you to come out here and spy on me, right? Who put him up to it, the sheriff? The state’s attorney?” Now her voice had begun to shake. The shell was cracking. She gathered its remnants around her as best she could and whispered desperately, “You better tell me, Tony. Right now. Who, dammit?”

  “It’s nothing like that. It’s got nothing to do with Duncan, or what happened here the day he was killed. It’s—” He ran his hand over his scalp, something she’d never seen him do before, and his face contorted with what looked like pain. “Look, it’s complicated. Can we go someplace—”

  “No. I want you to tell me now.”

  “Brooke—”

  “Now, Tony.”

  He reached for her again but pulled his hand back before it touched her and jammed it into his pocket instead. He frowned, then cleared his throat, as if in preparation for a profoundly important declaration. “Okay. You know you were adopted, right?” He grimaced, as if in pain. “Of course, you do. Okay. So…what do you know about your birth parents?”

  “Only that they’re both dead. What’s that got to do—”

  “Hold on. I told you it’s complicated. What about siblings? What do you know about them?”

  “I told you. I have a twin sister.”

  “Well—” he whooshed out a breath…dragged in another…gave a small laugh “—actually, you have more than that. You also have a brother.”

  He watched the blood drain from her face. She seemed to sway, and she put out a hand to grope for the support of the chain-link fence as she whispered, “I have…a brother?”

  “Three…actually.” He tried to smile. Air seemed in short supply suddenly, and gulping it didn’t help much. “The way I understand it is, you were all separated when you were children, after your parents died. You and your sister were the youngest, just toddlers at the time. So you probably don’t remember at all. But your oldest brother, Cory—well, a couple of years ago, he hired Holt Kincaid to find you—the four of you. He finally located your brothers early last summer. He’d just found out where you were and was coming into town to see…uh, to talk to you, when…all this happened. He got here the day of your bail hearing.”

  He stared at her and she stared back, not saying anything. Her eyes were like chunks of obsidian.

  He threw up his hands. “Well, jeez, Brooke, what was he supposed to do? He didn’t know you from Adam. For all he knew, his client’s baby sister was a cold-blooded murderer! Both your brother and his wife were unreachable at the time—another long story—so he called me, since I happen to be a good friend of both Cory and Sam’s, and…so, here I am.”

  “Spying on me.”

  “Ah, hell, it wasn’t—”

  “It’s just like I said, isn’t it? This Holt person hired you to check me out. You gave us that lion story so we’d let you get close to us. You lied to me, Tony. You lied to Daniel. That whole thing about saving Lady—we trusted you. I trusted you.” She made a wide sweep with her arm, one that took in the dog, who was napping, oblivious, in the shade of the pickup truck. “Even Hilda trusted you. I gave you my—” And now the gesture she made was small, a brief touching of herself in the general area of her heart.

  Then she wrapped her arms around herself again and looked away. She was crying, tears welling up and pouring from her eyes in a way that was all the more devastating by being utterly silent. To Tony, watching in helpless anguish, it was as if her very soul was bleeding.

  “Brooke,” he whispered, “it wasn’t like that. We—Holt and I—we just wanted to help you. Lord knows, I never meant—” To fall in love with you.

  There—he’d said it. Only in his mind, but still. He’d admitted it, what he’d known for a while. Now, finally, when it was too late. I love this woman. I love her child, too. And I’ve screwed things up badly and probably lost both of them.

  “Why couldn’t you just have told me? Once you knew I wasn’t—before I—before we…” The look she gave him, the hurt and accusation in those shimmering indigo eyes, tore at his heart. “Or,” she whispered, “is that why you didn’t tell me. You still think I’m a murderer?”

  “God, no! Brooke, you know I don’t.”

  “But that’s just it—I don’t know. I don’t know you. I thought I did, but now…How can I ever know whether you’re lying to me or not? How can I ever trust you?”

  “I didn’t lie.” His voice felt like crushed rock in his throat. “Not about the important stuff. Brooke, I—”

  “No.” She held up both hands, a wall between them. “I want you to leave. I want you gone.”

  “Brooke—”

  “Now. Before Daniel gets home. I don’t want him to see you.”

  Something inside him shut down. A kind of fatalistic calm descended. “All right. Okay,” he said. And walked away.

  Halfway through the barn, he met Daniel, still wearing his backpack from school. When he saw Tony, the boy’s face lit up with a smile was like an arrow in his heart.

  “Hey—Tony. Where’s—” And Daniel, too young to have gotten so good at reading catastrophe in adult faces, halted, and the smile vanished. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

  Tony wanted to rush on by without explanation. Pain was writhing and coiling all through him, and the last thing he wanted to do was break another heart. Then he thought, You jerk—you brought this on yourself. You owe this kid. Be a man, for God’s sake.

  So he paused, put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and took a deep breath. “I have to go.” He put up a hand to stop Daniel’s stricken “No!”

  “Son, I’m sorry. I haven’t exactly told you and your mom the truth. She—well, I guess I’ve kind of screwed things up. So…I have to go now. I’m sorry.”

  This time walking away was like ripping himself in half and leaving the torn and bloody remnants behind.

  “Mom! What did you do?”

  Brooke straightened, brushing at her cheeks, and turned to face her son. He’d halted a few yards away, breathing hard, his face flushed and furious.

  “Why is Tony leaving?
What did you say to him?”

  She gave a high, meaningless laugh. “It’s not so much what I said…”

  “Then what? I don’t understand.”

  She put her hand over her mouth and nose, sniffed, wiped, then stuck her hand in her pocket and cleared her throat. “Daniel, um…Tony didn’t really come here to do a story on Lady. He came—” she cleared her throat again and caught a quick breath “—to spy on us. On me.”

  He recoiled as if she’d slapped him. “I don’t believe you. Tony wouldn’t do that.” And then, as uncertainty crept in, he added, “Why would he?”

  Tears were welling up again. She shook her head. “It’s a long story, Daniel. I can’t—” But he was waiting, glaring at her, and his face had a mulish look she knew well. She brushed at her cheeks and said, “He was hired…by someone. Someone who wanted to know if I was—if I killed your dad. He was hired to come here and find out.”

  Daniel gave an impatient shrug. “So, he found out you didn’t, right? So, what’s the problem?”

  “Honey, he lied to us. He’s not who he pretended to be.”

  “He is, too!” He lifted his arms and let them fall with an angry slap. “So what if he didn’t tell the truth? He was helping us. He’s gonna save Lady, too. Tony’s a good guy, Mom.”

  “Oh, Daniel. You don’t know—”

  “Yes, I do. He is a good guy. It’s like I told you before. You just know.” He turned around and started to run back toward the barn.

  “Daniel! Where are you going? Daniel—”

  “He can’t leave. We need him. We have to stop him, Mom.”

  “Daniel, we can’t—”

  “Well, I can! I’m not…going to…let him leave. Tony…Tony, wait!”

  Brooke stood still and watched him go, one arm wrapped across her waist, the other hand clamped over her mouth to hold back sobs. She watched him until he’d disappeared inside the barn. And as silence descended, she heard a faint voice, Tony’s voice, somewhere inside her head.

  You also have a brother. Three…

  Oh, God—what if it were true?

  It was too much, finally. Simply too much, on top of everything else that had happened to her recently. She gave a desperate, laughing sob…then another, and another. Hilda woke with a start and came trotting over to see what the noise was, and Brooke sank to the ground and wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck and buried her face in her thick fawn-and-white ruff.

  Oh, God…Tony…

  I have brothers?

  I…have…brothers.

  Tony was dumping his camera gear and duffel bag into the trunk of his car when Daniel came dashing up, face flushed and streaked with tears. Tony hadn’t thought he could possibly feel any worse than he already did, but he’d been wrong.

  “Is it true?” Tony went on loading camera bags into the trunk. Daniel slipped off his backpack and let it fall to the ground with a crunch. “Is it true what Mom said? That you lied to us?”

  “About a couple things. Not the important stuff.” Tony was beginning to feel a bit abused and sorry for himself, if the truth were told. After all, what had he done that was so bad, except try and help her? That was all he’d wanted to do, damn it. Help.

  He slammed the trunk lid and turned to face the boy. “I should have told you guys the truth about why I was here, once I got to know you and…well…” He took a breath and gritted his teeth. Forced the words out. “Your mom’s right to be mad at me. I’m hoping she’ll change her mind. If she doesn’t—”

  “No! I don’t want you to go, Tony.”

  “If she doesn’t…I want you to know I meant what I said. I am going to do everything I can to save your cougar, okay? I wasn’t lying about that. And what I said about you being able to call me anytime—I wasn’t lying about that, either. You have my cell number, right? If you need me, or if you just want to talk, you call me. Okay?”

  Daniel didn’t answer, just stared at him with eyes full of accusation, betrayal, disappointment and grief. When Tony couldn’t stand to look at those eyes any longer, he turned, got into his car, started it up and drove away.

  He didn’t want to admit how upset he was, or that his vision was a bit blurred, which might have been why he didn’t notice the sheriff’s SUV parked on the dirt lane, the one that marked the boundary of Brooke’s property.

  Brooke had dried her tears and was trying to tell herself she’d been foolish for shedding them in the first place.

  After all, what did she have to cry about? How long had she known Tony? A week? Less? So he’d lied. Not exactly an unprecedented event in her history with men. She’d been an idiot to throw herself at him. What had she expected him to do? Turn her down? And how would that have felt?

  No, she concluded, you have no right to be hurt, and you have nobody to blame but yourself.

  This, too, will pass.

  And so, she hoped, would the awful ache in her heart.

  In the meantime, there were chores to be done…animals to be fed. And now that the commotion had died down and Hilda had gone back to her shady spot beside the pickup and Brooke was alone, Lady had come to the fence to say hello.

  “Oh…you sweet, beautiful lady, you,” she whispered, putting her fingers through the wire for the cougar to sniff, then lick. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they take you away…How could anyone want to destroy something so beautiful?”

  Lady’s reply was a rasping purr as she butted her head against the wire, asking to be petted.

  In the next moment—less than a moment—the cougar gave a scream of fury and recoiled away from the fence and Brooke, one paw raised in defense and fangs bared in a fearsome snarl.

  Brooke was on her feet, cold with shock and vibrating with adrenaline. “Lady? What’s the matter, girl?”

  Then she heard Hilda growl. She jerked around, just in time to see Lonnie step out from behind the pickup truck. He’d come, she realized, not from the direction of the barn and the front yard, but across the strip of live oaks, cactus and rocks that separated her animal pens from the back road.

  “Told you I’d be back,” he said, smiling.

  “Lonnie—”

  But his smile vanished, as quickly and suddenly as Lady’s transformation from house cat to killer, became something evil and menacing as his eyes jerked and his stare arrowed beyond her.

  “Mom!”

  Her heart lurched, felt wrenched from her body. She screamed, “Daniel, go back! Call—”

  But Lonnie was too fast for both of them. In one long stride, he lunged past her, caught Daniel’s arm and wrenched the cell phone from his hands. “Oh, no, you don’t, Danny boy. Mama’s boyfriend and her high-powered lawyers ain’t gonna save that cat. Not this time.”

  He hurled the cell phone as far as he could into the cactus and live oaks.

  When his cell phone shrilled at him from the sedan’s center console, Tony thought for sure it was Daniel. He was smiling as he picked it up, thumbed it on and said, “Hey, D—”

  “Tony—glad I caught you.” Holt’s voice, not Daniel’s. “Thought I better warn you. Just got a call from Shirley—from the diner? She overheard a bunch of the deputies talking a while ago, this afternoon. Lonnie wasn’t with ’em, and they were talking about how they were worried about him. Said he’d gone off the deep end over ‘that damn cat.’ That he was going to screw things up—not quite the words they used—for everybody. And they were thinking it might be time for them all to get out while they still could.”

  Tony swore, and Holt rushed right on over it. “I’ve contacted the feds. Told ’em they might want to haul this bunch in while they still can, otherwise they’re gonna be gone, in the wind. They’re on their way. So’s Cory. But I think Lonnie might be coming to a boil as we speak, and I’m afraid he’s gonna blow before they get here. You need to—”

  Tony swore again and hit the brakes. Holt yelled, “What was that? Where in the hell are you? Are you in the car? Holy mother—tell me she’s with you, at least. Tell me y
ou didn’t leave her and the kid out there alone.”

  “She kicked me out,” Tony growled as he made a jerky three-point turn in the middle of the highway. “I told her everything, and she threw me out.”

  Now it was Holt who was swearing with everything he had. “I don’t care if she just peppered your butt with buckshot. Get yourself back there—now. If that crazy deputy comes after her lion, you know what she’ll do, don’t you?”

  Tony did know, and he was so cold and scared, he could hardly drive. “On my way,” he said and dropped the phone onto the seat beside him.

  But not before he’d heard Holt on the other end, muttering something that sounded like, “Gonna get my client’s baby sister killed!”

  “Why, Lonnie? Please…just tell us why.”

  Brooke stood facing the deputy and tried not to look at the gun in his hand. She had one arm across Daniel’s chest holding him tightly against her, and with the other hand kept a death-grip on Hilda’s collar, both for the same reason: to keep them from lunging at Lonnie and probably getting themselves shot. All three—she, Daniel and the dog—were shaking.

  “Lady didn’t kill Duncan. The tranquilizer dart did. The ME said so. Why do you want to kill her?” It was the only thing she could think of to do, the only hope she had. If she could just talk him down…reason with him…

  “It was that cat’s fault! It shouldna happened.” Lonnie’s eyes darted crazily, in that brilliant, unnatural way she’d noticed before, and for the first time, it occurred to Brooke to wonder about drugs. Then his face seemed to crumple. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that!”

  Brooke felt herself go still inside. “Lonnie, what are you talking about?”

  His eyes darted back to her, and to her horror, she realized they were swimming with tears. “I told Dunk it was a crazy idea. I told him. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He wouldn’t listen….”

  “What idea? Lonnie, what did you do?”

  “It wasn’t my fault!” He swiped at the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand, the one holding the gun, then gestured with it toward the cougar’s compound. “It was that damn cat….”