Cutter's Law

by Judith Rochelle

  Amber looked at Morgan with a plea in her eyes. “Y-You're a police chief. You'd get all uptight and try to investigate, and someone would find me.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Lord save me, Allison thought. This woman should go on the stage. Can't Morgan see this is all some kind of act? How can he even stand here and listen to her after the way she treated him?

  "Amber, if someone wants to kill you, the police are your best bet to stay alive."

  She shook her head violently. “Not these police. They know about it and helped.""What?” Morgan put his hands on the table and leaned over her. “You're telling me the police are involved in this—whatever it is?"

  "Yes.” She looked down at her hands. “I know that's hard for you to believe, you being so honest and all."

  What a load of crap. That woman is lying through her teeth.

  Allison banged cups as she took them out of the cupboard and banged them on the counter. She slammed the spoons down so hard both Morgan and Amber jumped.

  "Sorry. The coffee's almost ready.” Morgan, this woman's playing you like a violin. Whatever she's running from, she's about to get you in big trouble.

  He straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, what is it you want from me, if it's not police protection? What do you expect me to give you?"

  Allison turned from the counter just in time to see Amber arrange her face in a pitiful expression. “I just need to stay here for a few days. Not long,” she hurried on, seeing the dark scowl on his face. “Just until I can make other arrangements."

  Allison took milk out of the refrigerator and slammed the door. Don't fall for it, Morgan. Remember what she did to your life.

  "You want me to let you stay here, after everything that happened?” He shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. “Lady, you have got brass balls, I'll say that for you. Give me one good reason I shouldn't just open the door and throw you out on your ass."

  Amber jumped up from the table and threw her arms around him, burrowing against his chest. “Morgan, I am so, so sorry about what happened before. If you'll give me a chance, I'll just explain and apologize all over the place. But honest to God, there are people out there serious about killing me, and I know you're too decent a man to let that happen. Please?"

  Decent. The right word to coerce Morgan. Allison could see it strike at him, warring with his bitterness toward the woman who had made such a mess of his life. This woman knew just which button to push.

  Amber flicked a sly glance at her. “Morgan, I'm sure your little friend over there won't mind, will you, honey?"

  Little friend? Little friend? That does it. If he doesn't throw her out, I will.

  "Amber..."

  "I promise when we're alone I'll tell you all about it."

  And here came the flood of tears. The clincher, Allison thought.

  Morgan grabbed Amber's arms and shoved her away from him. “Amber, this is such bullshit. Get away from me."

  "I'm so scared, Morgan. I promise I'll get out of your hair as soon as I can, but you have to let me stay here. These people would cut my throat in a heartbeat."

  "Coffee's ready,” Allison interrupted, bile rising in her throat at the scene in front of her. She knew in her gut Morgan was going to give in. No matter what this woman had done to him, he lived by his own code of ethics that overrode everything else. Time for her to get out of Dodge. “I'll just go get my things together.” She ran up the stairs before she slapped Amber. Or Morgan, the dope.

  She found her purse on the floor where she'd dropped it and shoved her feet into her shoes, swearing under her breath and calling herself every kind of idiot. She was almost at the door when Morgan strode into the room.

  "Where the hell do you think you're going?” He planted himself in front of her, blocking her path.

  "I'm leaving. What did you think? That I was going to hang around and watch you play house with Amber? The woman who treated you like dirt?” She tried to push past him.

  He refused to move, instead grabbing her by the shoulders. “It's not like that and you know it."

  "Oh?” She looked up at him. “Then exactly what is it like? She waltzes into your life after all this time and you just open the door for her."

  Morgan ground his teeth. “She says someone's after her. If that's true, how can I just toss her out, no matter how I feel? I wouldn't throw a dog out if someone was out to kill him."

  Allison knew that about him, but it didn't help any. She was too angry to be reasonable. Just as she and Morgan were getting back on track, Miss Troublemaker had to show up. She frowned. “And by the way, don't you think there's something fishy about this whole thing?"

  "I'm not saying Amber isn't—embroidering things a little, but I have to find out. Allison, please. Can you just trust me on this?"

  Allison put her hands on her hips and stared at him. “And will she be staying here while you find out just what's going on?"

  Morgan spread out his hands, palms up. “What am I supposed to do with her? I can't hang her out to dry, no matter how I feel about her."

  "I know, I know. Cutter's Law, right?” She dragged a brush through her hair and dropped it into her purse. “Fine, but there's not room in this house for both of us. Even you can't be blind enough to think that. Call me when you get your life straightened out."

  "You're not going to leave me alone with her, are you?"

  "I'm not staying here. Even you can see how idiotic that would be.” She turned toward the door, only to find Morgan blocking her path.

  He bent his head and in seconds his mouth was on hers, hot, hard, his tongue forcing her lips open and sweeping inside, touching the delicate nerves.

  Allison struggled in his grasp and tried to pull away, but his kiss was too potent, too consuming, and she found herself melting against him. Then her brain clicked in and she dragged her mouth away from his.

  "This doesn't solve anything. Sex is just—sex."

  Morgan's eyes burned into hers. “This is more than just sex and you damn well know it."

  She drew in a deep breath, fighting the band that constricted her chest. “Look, Morgan. Your ex-wife's downstairs with a problem. She's not about to go away. And you're right about one thing. If she's in trouble, your conscience won't let you turn her away."

  "Allison..."

  She cut him off. “No. Don't say anything. Go take care of her, find someplace else to stash her, and we'll see what happens."

  He reached for her again. “Stop. We need to talk about us before you go running off anywhere."

  She hated the look of pain on his face, but Morgan had to clean house before they could talk about anything. “Talk? With Amber probably out in the hall listening to every word? Puhleeze. And I'm not running off, only going to the ranch. Just...” She waved her hands in the air. “Just give me a day or so to digest all this, okay? Now, please. Just let me go."

  She hurried down the stairs. Amber was still sitting in the kitchen, a look of amusement on her face.

  "Sorry if I chased you off.” Her voice held a hint of sarcasm.

  God, don't let me kill this woman and go to hell for it. “Fat chance. I'm just smart enough to stay out of the line of fire. It won't take long before Morgan sees right through you and throws you out of here."

  Amber laughed. “I wouldn't bet on that. I know just how to push his buttons."

  "Not this time.” The deep voice startled them. Neither of them had heard Morgan come into the room. “Allison, I'll walk you to your car.” He turned to Amber. “When I come back in, be prepared to have a long talk with me."

  Allison walked out as nonchalantly as she could, but when she hit the back steps she ran for her car. She had the door open and was about to climb in when she felt Morgan's hands on her, turning her around.

  "Don't leave like this."

  She leaned her head against his chest, seeking the comfort of his strength. “Don't make this any harder on me than it is. Surely there's some
place else Amber can go if she's really hiding from someone. Take care of business, then we'll talk. But as long as that woman is in your house, we have nothing to say to each other."

  As he had in the bedroom, he pressed his mouth to hers in a desperate kiss, his tongue tasting every inch of her, telling her what he wanted. Then he released her. “I'm not letting you get away from me."

  Allison just shook her head, climbed into her car and backed out of the driveway, tears of anger and disappointment clouding her vision.

  * * * *

  "What did you find out?” Obradors took a swallow of tequila and again cursed the fates that had saddled him with the two biggest idiots in the world. Again today he'd had a session with Escalante, and the man's patience was nearly at an end.

  "If you can't do this, I'll take care of it myself,” had been his last words to Obradors.

  Luis knew exactly what that meant. He'd be saying goodbye to his position in the organization and his life. That simply was not acceptable. But he had to get a handle on the situation.

  "Well?” he asked again. “What information do you have?"

  "Unfortunately nothing, jefe." Alex Osuna's voice was placating. “But we are still on it."

  "And exactly what does that mean? Remember, you can't stir up gossip in that small town."

  ""We're working on it, jefe. But this is a small town. You can't exactly walk up to people and start asking questions."

  "Did you drive by the home of the police chief? Did you see a woman there?"

  "Only once, Senor Luis. Everyone looks out their windows here, and Jorge and me are strangers. They would call the chief right away."

  Obradors ground his teeth. “Well, you'd better come up with something. Have you had any hint of her at all?"

  "Si, jefe. We talked to some people at the truck stop in Monroe. That's only fifty miles from White Tail. She was here, they swear to it."

  "All right. If she got that close, then she's definitely headed to her ex-husband's. What is your next move?"

  "Well." A pause. “Me and Jorge think it would be a good idea if we tried to get jobs on one of the ranches."

  "Jobs?” Obradors nearly shouted the word over the telephone.

  "Si. That way no one would think it strange if we were around and we could have an excuse for being here."

  Madre de Dios. Estupido." He cursed fluently in Spanish for a full minute.

  "But what is wrong with that?” Now panic had crept into Osuna's voice. “It sounds logical, no?"

  "Listen to me, you idiot. That could take days, even weeks, to find out what we want. We barely have hours. Do you understand?” Jesu Cristo!" He smacked himself on the forehead. He could already see the end of his life approaching. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I will have to come there myself. There's nothing else for it. Let me think a minute."

  He could hear Osuna breathing heavily on the other end of the line while he cast about in his head for a plan of action. “What is the name of the town where the truck stop is? How far is it from Flyspeck and does is have a decent motel?"

  "Monroe, jefe. It's good size. There's a motel right next to the truck stop just outside the town. Or do you want something inside the city limits?"

  "No. No that's fine.” He was silent a moment. “All right. I will have to meet with Escalante and bring him up to date. Then, if he doesn't kill me first, I'll meet you at the motel. I'll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon."

  "We'll be waiting for you."

  "Go nowhere except the truck stop to eat, you hear me? Stay away from the real estate agent and don't go anyplace in that little town. I'll have to look things over myself and I don't want to raise any more suspicions than you probably already have."

  "Si, jefe."

  Obradors hung up the phone and poured himself another shot of tequila. In the morning he would call Escalante and do his best to buy himself some more time. But first he planned to get good and stinking drunk.

  * * * *

  The lunch rush was over when Allison landed at the D&D, although the tantalizing aromas of fried chicken and hot apple pie still hung in the air. Allison's stomach rumbled, reminding her she had yet to eat today, lunch having been interrupted by Amber. However, she was sure she couldn't make a bite of food stay down.

  "Don't tell me that hard-head wouldn't kiss and make up.” Donna had the ever-present coffee carafe in her hand. She poured cups for herself and Allison and sat down in the booth across from the unhappy woman.

  "No, that's not it at all.” Allison picked up her spoon then put it down again. “We got to make up for all of an hour."

  Donna frowned. “So what happened?"

  Allison picked up the spoon again and tapped it against her fingers. “Amber happened. Does that answer your question?"

  "What?” Donna almost knocked over the coffee carafe. “Don't tell me. I can't believe that woman would have the nerve to show up here again."

  "Oh, yeah.” Allison pushed her fingers through her hair. “Not only that, she still had a key and walked right into the house."

  "Now I know you're kidding."

  "Not a bit. Morgan and I had just ... I mean, we.... that is..."

  Donna grinned. “I get the picture. Don't tell me she walked into his bedroom."

  "No, thank God. But when we came downstairs, there she was."

  Donna shook her head. “That woman is such poison. Why on Earth would she come back here when she knows Morgan would like to shoot her on sight?"

  Allison made a face. “She says she's in trouble and Morgan's the only one who can help her. She needs a place to hide for a few days where no one can find her. I'd like to hide her where no one will find her, that's for sure."

  "What a line.” Donna snorted. “Morgan needs a good shrink if he falls for whatever line she's feeding him.” She cocked her head. “So why are you here and she's there?"

  Allison shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “There's not room in that house for both of us. Morgan needs to get rid of her. Or me, I guess. Which ever one he chooses."

  "Oh, Allison.” Donna threw back her had and laughed. “I'm sorry, but there's no contest there. Morgan wouldn't give Amber house room for anything."

  "Yeah?” Allison blinked back tears. “Well, he's giving her plenty right now."

  Donna reached out a hand to Allison. “What will you do? Go back to San Antonio?"

  "Not yet.” Allison reached into her purse, pulled out a tissue, and blew her nose. “Damn it. I refuse to cry over this. I could kill that man."

  Donna grinned. “Better mad than sad, kiddo."

  "You're right.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I guess I'll go to the ranch. Damn, Donna. I think if I had a gun right now I'd shoot both of them."

  "If he doesn't get Amber out of the house, Morgan just might do it for you."

  The door to the D&D opened, and a voice called, “Hey, Donna. Customers have to wait on themselves now?"

  Allison jerked her head up at the voice. Tate Donovan, the love bug from the gas station, was standing by their booth. He was slightly better dressed than the other day, but the Stetson on his thick, dark hair was still battered, and the jeans clinging to his lean hips looked like they'd seen far better days. His wide smile made the tiny dimple at the corner of his mouth flash, and his eyes were full of mischief.

  I'll bet he's hell on wheels, was Allison's first thought. Her second was, do all the good looking men in White Tail have those unforgettable blue eyes?

  Donna stood up and tugged on Tate's hat. “Behave yourself if you want good service, cowboy."

  Cowboy! No wonder Morgan hates it so much when I call him that. It lumps him in with every other woman-chaser. And she had no doubt that's exactly what Tate Donovan was.

  "If I behaved myself I'd never have any fun.” He grinned. “When are you going to ditch that husband of yours and take up with a real man?"

  Donna laughed. “You wouldn't like my answer on that. You here for lunc
h?"

  "Yup.” Without asking, he slid into the booth opposite Allison. “If the chief wouldn't have me arrested for poaching on his territory, I'd ask Miss Moore here to join me."

  "Thanks, but I'm not hungry.” Just what she didn't need—a horny cowboy poking into her affairs.

  "Then have a cup of coffee and keep me company.” He took off his Stetson and placed it on the seat next to him. “Steak and eggs, Donna, with extra grits."

  Donna looked from Allison to Tate and back again. “I'll bring your food, but you better make sure the lady wants you here."

  "Actually, I think I'll head on out to the ranch.” She dropped some money on the table, but Donna handed it back to her. “Coffee's free. Come in any time.” She gave Allison a hug. “And call me at home if you want to chat."

  "Thanks.” Allison gave her a wobbly smile and left.

  Tate lifted an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?"

  "None of your business. If there is, they don't need a lady-killer like you making it worse."

  Tate smiled at her. “That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today."

  Donna grunted at him and headed toward the kitchen.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "All right. I want the whole story and I want it now."

  Morgan Cutter leaned against the kitchen counter, cradling a mug of coffee. He'd found a tee shirt in the laundry room and pulled it on over his bare chest. The last thing he wanted was to give Amber any seductive ideas. He could already see the calculating gleam in her eyes.

  "I want to know about the little chicken that ran out of here with her tail feathers between her legs.” She gave him one of her patented smiles. “Couldn't take the heat, huh?"

  Morgan wondered if he could get away with a justifiable homicide defense if he snapped Amber's neck. “Let's leave her out of this. She's none of your business. Just tell me why you're here so I can send you on your way."

  Amber pouted. “I know you must be a tiny bit angry with me, Morgan."