Unrepentant Cowboy
Page 19
Effie. She must have run out of the house. Leif yelled at her to get back inside.
Shots started firing randomly, ricocheting off the truck’s door and front bumper. Someone screamed. Leif didn’t know if it was Effie or Joni. He kept fighting, not even feeling the punches that pounded into him. He had to get his hands on that gun before Joey killed them all in a fit of blind rage.
“Run, Joni. Take Effie and run.” Blood was dripping into his right eye now, blurring his vision to the point he couldn’t see the pistol.
He got in a solid blow to Joey’s stomach, but Joey came right back at him, hitting him in the head so hard that he blacked out for an instant.
“You should have stayed in Big D,” Joey said, his words so thick with fury they were barely comprehensible. “You’re not tough enough to make it on the ranch.”
Joey might be right, but Leif had found what he wanted in Oak Grove. He loved Joni. He wanted a life with her. And he wouldn’t be robbed of that happiness by some hotheaded punk. Fury darkened Joey’s eyes to black sparks. The gun was in his hand. His fingers were on the trigger.
Leif exploded with equal fury. He knocked the gun from Joey’s hand. It skittered across the concrete drive like a rock.
Joey dived for it. A big cowboy boot came down on Joey’s fingers and the gun.
“Fair fights are never what they’re cracked up to be,” R.J. said as he ground Joey’s fingers until the sounds of cracking bones and Joey’s cries filled the air.
R.J. stood over Joey, his own gun pointed at Joey’s head as he kicked Joey’s pistol so hard it bounced under the front steps.
“Don’t make my day, boy,” R.J. said. “I don’t have that many of them left to waste, and I do love shootin’ varmints. Now will someone call the sheriff or do I have to do everything myself?”
“Already made that call,” Adam said, riding up on his horse. “Did it as soon as Hadley called and said R.J. explained Leif’s reaction to hearing Joey was at the ranch.”
A second later both Effie and Joni were in Leif’s arms.
“I was so scared,” Effie said. “I thought that man was going to kill you. I love you, Dad. I don’t always act like it, but I do. I really do.”
“Me, too,” Joni said. “Me, too.”
“And I love both of you. I plan to spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”
Both his best girls in his arms. A father he might even grow to like to his rescue. And the promise of a life with Joni stretching out as far as his heart could see.
“I guess it’s time I get some real cowboy boots,” Leif said. “It looks like I’m home to stay.”
* * * * *
Read on for a sneak peek of Joanna Wayne’s next
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Prologue
Faith Ashburn emphasized her deep-set brown eyes with a coat of thick black liner and then took a step away from the mirror to see the full effect of the makeup she’d caked onto her pale skin. The haunted eyes that stared back at her were the only part of the face she recognized.
Her irises mirrored the way she felt. Lost. Trapped in a nightmare. The anxiety was so intense the lining of her stomach seemed to be on fire.
But she’d go back out there tonight, into the smoke and groping, the stares that crawled across her skin like hairy spiders. She’d smile and endure the depravity—praying, always praying, for some crumb of information that would lead her to her son.
Cornell was eighteen. Physically, he was a man. Mentally and emotionally, he was a trusting, naive boy who needed his mother and his meds.
Faith’s bare feet sank into the thick mauve carpet as she stepped back into her bedroom and tugged on her patterned panty hose. Then she pulled the low-cut, trampy black dress from the closet and stepped into it.
The fabric stretched over her bare breasts as she slid the spaghetti straps over her narrow shoulders. Her nipples were covered, but there was enough cleavage showing to suggest that she’d have no qualms about revealing everything if the offer appealed to her.
Reaching to the top shelf of her closet, she chose the bright red stiletto heels. They never failed to garner the instant attention of men high on booze, drugs and the stench of overripened sex.
Struck by a burst of vertigo, Faith held on to the bedpost until the dizziness passed. Then she tucked lipstick, her car keys and some mad money into the small sequined handbag that already carried her licensed pistol.
Stopping off in the kitchen, she poured two fingers of cheap whiskey into a glass. She swished the amber liquid around in her mouth, gargled and then spit it down the drain. Holding the glass over the sink, she ran one finger around the edges to collect the remaining liquor. She dotted it to her pulse points like expensive perfume.
Her muscles tightened. Her lungs felt clogged. She took a deep breath and walked out the door, carefully locking it behind her.
Six months of going unofficially undercover into the seediest areas of Dallas. Six months of questioning every drug addict and pervert who might have come in contact with Cornell, based on nothing but the one scrap of evidence the police had provided her.
Six months of crying herself to sleep when she came home as lost, confused and desperate as before.
God, please let tonight be different.
* * *
“ANOTHER BACKSTREET HOMICIDE, another trip to see Georgio. I’m beginning to think he gives a discount to killers. A lap dance from one of his girls when a body shows up at the morgue without identification.”
“And the victims get younger and younger.” Travis Dalton followed his partner, Reno, as they walked through a side door of the sleaziest strip joint in the most dangerous part of Dallas. Georgio reigned as king here, providing the local sex and drug addicts with everything they needed to feed their cravings.
Yet the rotten bastard always came out on top. His rule of threats and intimidation eliminated any chance of getting one of his patrons to testify against him. Not that they would have had a shred of credibility if they had.
A rap song blared from the sound system as a couple of seminude women with surgery-enhanced butts and breasts made love to skinny poles. Two others gyrated around the rim of the stage, collecting bills in their G-strings.
A familiar waitress whose name Travis couldn’t remember sashayed up to him. “Business or pleasure, copper boy?”
“What do you think?”
“Business, but a girl can hope. Are you looking for Georgio?”
“For starters.”
“Is it about that boy who got shot up in Oak Cliff last night?”
Now she had Tavis’s full attention. “What do you know about that?”
“Nothing, I just figured that’s what brought you here.”
Travis had a hunch she knew more than she was admitting. He was about to question her further when he noticed a woman at the bar trying to peel a man’s grip from her right wrist.
“Let go of me,” she ordered, her voice rising above the din.
The man held tight while his free hand groped her breast. “I just want to be friends.”
“You’re hurting me.”
Travis stormed to the bar. “You heard the woman. Move on, buddy.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“I am.” He pulled the ID from the breast pocket of his blue pullover. “Dallas Police. Back off or I snap a nice metal bracelet on your wrist and haul you down to central lockup.”
A thin stream of spittle made its way down the man’s whiskered chin as his hands fell to his sides. Wiping it away with his shirtsleeve, he slid off the bar stool and stumbled backward.
“She’s the one you should be arresting. She came on to me,” he slurred.
But one look into her haunted eyes, and Travis doubted she was looking to make a fast buck on her back. She had a delicate, fragile quality about her that suggested she’d be more at home in a convent than here shoving off drunks. Even the exaggerated makeup couldn’t hide her innocence.
If he had to guess, he’d say she was here trying to get even with some jerk who had cheated on her. That didn’t make it any less dangerous for her to be in this hellhole.
“Party’s over, lady. I’m calling for a squad car to take you home.”
“I have a car.”
“Get behind the wheel and I’ll have to arrest you for driving while intoxicated.”
“I’m not drunk.”
He couldn’t argue that point. She smelled like a brewery, but she wasn’t slurring her words and her eyes were clear, her pupils normal.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing or who you’re trying to get even with, but if you hang around here, you’re going to run into more trouble than you can handle.”
“I can take care of myself.” She turned and started to walk away.
Travis moved quicker, setting himself in her path without realizing why he was bothering.
He looked around for Reno, but his partner wasn’t in sight. He was probably already questioning Georgio, and Travis should be with him.
“Look, lady. You’re in over your head here. I’ve got some urgent business, but sit tight for a few minutes and I’ll be back to walk you to your car. In the meantime, don’t make friends with any more perverts. That’s an order.”
She shrugged and nodded.
He stalked off to find Reno. He spotted him and Georgio a minute later near the door to the suite of private offices. When he looked back, the woman was gone.
Just as well, he told himself, especially if she’d gone home. He didn’t need any more problems on his plate tonight. But even after he reached Reno and jumped into the murderous situation at hand, he couldn’t fully shake her from his mind.
Whatever had brought her slumming could get her killed.
Chapter One
Four months later
Travis adjusted the leather-and-turquoise bolo tie; it was a close match to the one his brother was wearing with his Western-style tux. The irony of seeing his formerly Armani-faithful attorney brother dressed like this made it hard for Travis not to laugh.
“I never thought I’d see the day you got hitched to a cowgirl.”
“I never thought I’d see the day you showed up at the Dry Gulch Ranch again,” Leif answered.
“Couldn’t miss the wedding of my favorite brother.”
“Your only brother.”
“Yeah, probably a good thing you don’t have competition now that you’re building a house on the Dry Gulch Ranch. On the bright side, I do like that I get to wear my cowboy boots with this rented Silverado monkey suit.”
Travis rocked back on the heels of his new boots, bought for the conspicuous occasion of Leif’s wedding to Joni Griffin. He’d never seen his brother happier. Not only was he so in love, he beamed when he looked at his veterinarian bride, but his daughter, Effie, would be living with him for her last two years of high school.
The Dry Gulch Ranch was spiffed up for the ceremony and reception. Lights had been strung through the branches of giant oaks and stringy sycamores. A white tent had been set up with chairs leaving a makeshift aisle that led to a rose-covered altar, where the two lovers would take their vows.
Most of the chairs were taken. Leif’s friends from the prestigious law firm from which he’d recently resigned to open his own office nearer the ranch mingled with what looked to be half the population of Oak Grove.
The women from both groups looked quite elegant. The male Big D lawyers were all in designer suits. The ranchers for the most part looked like they’d feel a lot more at home in their Wranglers than in their off-the-rack suits and choking ties.
In fact, a few of the younger cowboys were in jeans and sports coats. Travis figured they were the smart ones. Weekends he wasn’t working a homicide case, he usually spent on a friend’s ranch up in the Hill Country.
Riding, roping, baling hay, branding—he’d done it all and loved it. A weekend place on the Dry Gulch Ranch just a little over an hour from Dallas would have been the perfect solution for Travis. Except for one very large problem.
Rueben Jackson Dalton, his father by virtue of a healthy sperm.
“Time for us to join the preacher,” Leif said, jerking Travis back into the moment.
He walked at his brother’s side and felt a momentary sense of anxiety. He and Leif had been through hell together growing up, most of it caused by R.J.
It had been just the two of them against the world since their mother’s death, and they’d always been as close as the horse to a saddle. Now Leif was marrying and moving onto R.J.’s spread.
Oh, hell, what was he worried about? R.J. would never come between him and Leif. Besides, the old coot would be dead soon.
The music started.
Leif’s fifteen-year-old daughter started down the makeshift aisle, looking so grown-up it made Travis’s chest constrict. He could only imagine what it did to Leif. Travis winked at Effie as she took her place at the altar. She smiled so big it took over her face and lit up her eyes.
Travis looked up again and did a double take as he spotted the maid of honor gliding down the aisle. She damn sure didn’t look the way she had the last time he’d seen her, but there was no doubt in his mind that the gorgeous lady was the same one he’d rescued in Georgio’s four months ago.
He’d only spent a few minutes with her, but she’d preyed on his mind a lot since then, so much so that he’d found himself showing up at Georgio’s palace of perversion even when his work didn’t call for it.
All in the interest of talking to her and making sure she was safe. In spite of his efforts, he’d never caught sight of her again.
Travis studied the woman as she took her place a few feet away from him. She was absolutely stunning in a luscious creation the color of the amethyst ring his mother used to wear. She’d given it to him before she’d died.
It was the only prized possession Travis owned—well, that and the belt buckles he’d won in bull-riding competitions back when he had more guts than sense.
The wedding march sounded. The guests all stood. Travis’s eyes remained fixed on the maid of honor. Finally, she looked at him, and when their eyes met, he saw the same tortured, haunting depths that had mesmerized him at their first meeting.
Travis forced his gaze away from the mystery woman and back to Effie and Leif. He wouldn’t spoil the wedding, but before the night was over he’d have a little chat with the seductive maid of honor. Before he was through, he’d discover if she was as innocent as he’d first believed or if the demons who’d filled her eyes with anguish had actually driven her to the dark side of life.
If the latter were the case, he’d make damn sure she stayed away from his niece, Effie, even if it meant telling Leif the truth about his new wife’s best friend.
The reception might have a lot more spectacular fireworks than originally planned. Travis was already itching for the first dance.
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Chapter One
There had been a time when just the sight of his wife had Joseph Powers panting with desire. From the blue eyes that sparked fire through his every nerve, to the tips of her pretty pink toes, he’d known, tasted and loved every inch of her. But that was a long time ago, back when they’d been a family, when they’d been happy, when they’d been three. Now, they were just two.
He hadn’t seen her in a year, not since the last time she’d called him, crying and begging for his help, promising him that this time, unlike every time before, she was sure.
He’d expected her to call, if not today, then tomorrow. Knowing ahead of time didn’t make it easier, though. It made it worse. Tomorrow was a big day for both of them. It was her birthday and the second anniversary of their child’s disappearance.
He dreaded opening his front door and seeing her standing there, looking sad and lost. Although, she had sounded different this time. Not quite as desperate. Not quite as beaten down. The tone of her voice had given him a tiny scrap of hope. Maybe she’d finally agreed to take the antidepressants the doctor had prescribed. Maybe she wanted to see him, not to declare that this time she’d really found Joshua, but to let him know that she was doing better.
He laughed, a harsh sound that scratched his throat. Yeah, and pigs can fly.
He paced back and forth, wishing he could wipe away the memory that haunted him. That split second at the outdoor market when he’d reached down to pick up Joshua’s baby carrier and encountered empty space. The helplessness, terror and anger of that horrifying instant had never faded. Nor had the guilt. They were as strong and all-consuming as they’d ever been. He’d taken out a lot of that anger on Marcie, just as she’d taken out her own sadness, rage and devastating grief on him.