The Outcast tp-3

by Beverly Barton

  Elizabeth was the type of woman who could plow a field, cook three meals a day from scratch, shoot and skin her own game, give birth to a baby and be ready to fight off an Indian attack the next morning. Pioneer stock.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?'' she asked.

  "I was just picturing you fighting off an Indian attack," Reece said.

  "What?"

  "Just thinking about how much you're probably like your ancestors who settled these mountains." Reece stuffed the stack of clean clothes Elizabeth had given him into the duffel bag. More of Sam Dundee's clothes.

  "For your information, my ancestors didn't fight off the Indians. My Scots-Irish ancestors married Indians, they didn't kill them." Elizabeth laid her hand atop Reece's where he gripped the handle of the duffel bag. "If you let me go with you, I can get you to Newell safely, and... and I can help you find your father's murderer."

  Reece looked her directly in the eye. "What do you intend to do, go through the whole town reading everyone's mind?" Reece pulled away from her, dropping the duffel bag to the floor.

  "I could meet the people who knew your father. Possible suspects. Members of his family."

  Picking up the gun, Reece slid it into the pocket of the leather jacket Elizabeth had given him. "I need to check the Jeep." He walked toward the door leading to the back porch. "You said it has a full tank of gas. That means I shouldn't have to stop on the way."

  "Reece, please don't leave until after Sam calls." Elizabeth followed him to the back porch.

  "I won't, if he calls in the next hour." Reece opened the door. A puff of cold air hit him in the face. Turning, he smiled at Elizabeth. "How will you explain about your Jeep being gone?"

  "I'll think of something."

  Elizabeth stood on the screened-in back porch, watching Reece until he rounded the side of the house. He would never agree to her going with him. She had to think of an alternative plan. Without her, Reece didn't have a prayer of finding B. K. Stanton's killer.

  Reece could never understand the type of sacrifice she was willing to make for him, and it was probably best that he didn't know. Leaving the sanctuary of her home in the mountains meant having to face the world, to be bombarded with people's thoughts and feelings, to see into the futures of strangers. She had spent her entire life trying to control her abilities, and to some degree she had achieved that goal-but only to a degree. Often she had no control whatsoever over the visions, over the intense emotions coming from others, over the premonitions that sometimes only a look or a touch from someone triggered within her mind.

  Her special talents were as much a curse as a blessing. Thank God her family had brought her to Aunt Margaret instead of trusting her future to scientists who would have used her as a guinea pig, or to charlatans who would have used her in money-making schemes.

  She had chosen her solitary life here in her ancestors' Georgia mountains. Surrounded by nature, shielded from the thoughts and emotions of a town filled with people, Elizabeth found peace and purpose. Nothing and no one had ever tempted her to venture far from Sequana Falls since her college years, except one necessary visit to Sam six years ago to bring him home from Atlanta-a trip she wasn't eager to repeat.

  And now she was preparing to go back out into the world, to follow a man she barely knew, to expose herself to the trauma of mixing and mingling with people. How could Reece Landry have come to mean so much to her in such a short period of time? But five months wasn't a short period of time, was it? For some people it was a lifetime. She had known Reece in her heart far longer than the few days he'd spent at her cabin.

  A higher power had sent Reece to her. She knew that fact as surely as she knew Reece Landry was her destiny, and she his. No one had ever needed her the way Reece did. Not only did he need her to help him prove his innocence, he needed the warmth and caring she could give him to vanquish the loneliness he had endured his whole life.

  Just as Elizabeth heard the telephone ring, she saw Reece coming around the house, heading for the back porch.

  "That's Sam calling," she told Reece, then ran inside, racing toward the living room. Breathless and nervous, she picked up the telephone. "Sam?"

  "You sound funny. Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

  "I was on the back porch. I ran." Elizabeth took several deep, soothing breaths. "What did you find out?"

  "You've gone and gotten yourself involved with a real bad boy. Reece Landry's been in trouble since he was a kid."

  "I know that. Reece told me all about his childhood run-ins with the law. So what else did you find out?"

  "Look, kiddo, there's a possibility that Landry murdered B. K. Stanton. A lot of people who know him agree that he has a real killer instinct."

  Elizabeth sighed. How could she persuade Sam that he was wrong? "Reece may have a killer instinct, but he doesn't possess the soul of a killer. You, of all people, should understand the difference."

  Sam didn't respond. Elizabeth felt the hesitation, knew he was having difficulty accepting a truth he could not deny. Finally he said, "Point well taken."

  Elizabeth sensed Reece's presence behind her before she turned to face him. She mouthed the words "It's Sam." Reece nodded.

  "There are other suspects, aren't there?" Elizabeth asked. "You must have found out something."

  "Hey, I've had less than twenty-four hours to dig up information," Sam said.

  "So tell me what you've found out."

  "There's a chance Landry is innocent."

  Smiling, Elizabeth glanced at Reece, the trust and confidence she felt showing plainly in her expression. "Go on. Tell me more."

  "The whole thing was too neat, too pat to suit me. Landry's gun, no fingerprints on the gun, some of the tests were inconclusive, eyewitnesses who caught him at the scene, a motive of hatred and revenge and the strange coincidence that Landry had been invited to Stanton's home that night, for the first time in his life." Sam paused for a moment. "I'd say the man was framed."

  "Who could have framed him?"

  "Now, that's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. But I'd say other members of Stanton's family are prime suspects. Especially the son, Kenny. Seems he and his father didn't get along, and Kenny hates Landry."

  "Sam, Reece is going to need your help. He's planning on leaving today to go back to Newell. I want to go with him, but-"

  "Dammit, Elizabeth, you aren't putting your life at risk by going with that man! Do you hear me?"

  "The elephants in India can hear you."

  Reece grabbed the phone out of Elizabeth's hand. "Dundee, you don't have to worry. I'm not taking her with me."

  "Damn right you're not!"

  "I'm borrowing Elizabeth's Jeep, but I'll make sure she gets it back, somehow. I don't want her involved in this any more than she already is. If you've found out anything that can help me, I'd appreciate you telling me now."

  "From what little I've found out, I'd say there's a good chance you were framed. A smart man would turn himself in to the law before they shoot first and ask questions later. Your lawyer can appeal the case."

  "What good would an appeal do if we don't have another suspect?" Reece asked.

  "What chance do you have of discovering anything while you're on the run?"

  "I'm not turning myself in," Reece said.

  "Then you're a damned fool!"

  "Would you turn yourself in if you were me?"

  Sam grunted. "No."

  Reece handed the phone to Elizabeth. "Sam, I'll call you back. Reece will be leaving soon, and I.. .we'll talk later and I'll explain things."

  Hanging up the phone, Elizabeth turned to Reece. He stared at her, hoping she wouldn't ask again to go with him. As bad as he hated leaving her, he hated even more the possibility of anything happening to her because of him.

  She stood there looking at him, those big blue eyes of hers pleading. She'd left her coffee brown hair loose today instead of French braiding it, and its dark, silky mass hung to her waist. She wore a p
air of old, faded jeans that fit her round hips and legs like a second skin. Her nipples pressed against the ribbing of her beige sweater. Her golden skin glowed with youthful vibrancy and good health.

  The temptation to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away with him became unbearable. He broke eye contact with her, wondering if she was messing with his mind, sending him subliminal messages of persuasion.

  Reece took several tentative steps toward Elizabeth; she moved forward, reaching out for him. MacDatho inched his big body between them, accomplishing his obvious objective of separating them.

  Elizabeth reached down, petting MacDatho's head, soothing him with her touch. She relayed a mental message to him that she needed a private goodbye with Reece. Mac nuzzled Elizabeth's leg, then removed himself from between Reece and her. Seating himself by the door, the wolf-dog waited patiently for Reece's departure.

  Reece drew Elizabeth into his arms. She clung to him, running her hands up and down his back. "Don't go yet. Stay."

  "I can't." He kissed her forehead. "If I stay here any longer, I not only jeopardize my own life, but yours, too. You've done more to help me than I could have ever asked of anyone."

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist. "Since you won't allow me to go with you, to lead you off the mountain and safely back to Newell, I'll draw you a map of the back roads. The police won't have any idea that you'll know about the back roads."

  Reece held Elizabeth away from him. "Draw me the map, but do it quickly."

  She dashed over to the desk beneath the windows, fumbled inside the middle drawer and pulled out paper and pencil.

  "If the deputies find any evidence that I've been here with you, tell them I held you at gunpoint. Tell them I threatened your life."

  She held up the completed map, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Don't worry about me. I won't have to talk to any deputies. Besides, they'd never believe you held me at gunpoint for four days. Not in the shape you were in, and not with MacDatho around."

  Reece took the map out of her hand, shoved it into his jacket pocket, then grabbed her by the waist, drawing her up against him. "Take care, huh, Lizzie. And don't shed any tears over me.'' He wiped the tears from her eyes with the tip of his finger. "I'm not worth crying over. I'm not worth anybody caring about me."

  "You're wrong about that." She kissed his chin. "You are worth somebody caring." She kissed his jaw and then his cheek. "You deserve someone's tears." She kissed him lightly on the mouth. "You deserve to be loved, Reece Landry."

  "Damn you, Lizzie. Don't do this to me!" His kiss consumed her with his brutal need, with his savage passion. All the loneliness, the pain, the anger that had been building inside him since the day he'd been born verged into one obsession. To have Elizabeth Mallory be that somebody. The somebody who'd care. The somebody who'd cry for him. The somebody who'd love him.

  Feeling his desperation, Elizabeth tried to give him what he needed, to respond with an open heart. As her tears clouded her vision, she clung to him, whispering his name over and over again as he buried his face against her neck, his nose nuzzling her hair.

  Mustering all the control he possessed, Reece released Elizabeth and stepped away from her. "Say a prayer for me, Lizzie."

  More afraid than she'd ever been in her life, she stood motionless. She watched Reece walk to the door, pat MacDatho on the head and pick up the large duffel bag from the floor before opening the front door.

  When he walked out onto the porch, Elizabeth forced her legs to move. She lingered in the doorway while he got into the Jeep and drove down the road, away from Sequana Falls.

  MacDatho waited patiently at her side, finally circling her as a signal that he thought it was time for them to go inside. Elizabeth glanced down at Mac, nodding in agreement, suddenly feeling the frigid air seeping through her clothing.

  Twirling around, she ran inside, MacDatho at her heels. She knew what she had to do. If she hurried, Reece wouldn't have more than an hour or so head start. And it didn't really matter because she knew what roads he would be taking off the mountain, past Dover's Mill and all the way into Newell.

  She was not going to let Reece face this ordeal alone. She was going to be at his side, offering him all the support she could give him. And Sam, even if he didn't know it yet, was going to help them uncover the real murderer.

  Within twenty minutes she had packed her suitcase, doused all the fires in the fireplaces, checked both greenhouses, sacked a grocery bag filled with MacDatho's food and pulled Sam's antique car out of the barn they used as a garage and parked it in front of the cabin.

  She dialed Aunt Margaret's number, mentally preparing herself to lie about her plans. "Aunt Margaret, I wanted to let you know that I've decided to go to Atlanta and spend some time with Sam."

  "Is that so?"

  "It's been a couple of years since I've been any farther than Dover's Mill, and I think now's the time to test the waters, so to speak, to see if I still have the same problems dealing with the enormous influx of thoughts and emotions I usually get from being around huge crowds of people." This is only a half lie, Elizabeth told herself. Maybe her aunt wouldn't see past the pretense.

  "I suppose you'll be bringing that wolf of yours by here for me to take care of."

  "I thought O'Grady could take care of him. Mac and O'Grady are old friends."

  "Bring Mac by here on your way out of town and I'll see that O'Grady picks him up. And leave whatever instructions O'Grady will need to keep things running smoothly in the greenhouses until you return."

  Elizabeth sighed. "Thanks, Aunt Margaret. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

  "I suppose you'll be gone until you're either arrested for aiding and abetting a criminal or until you've helped the man prove himself innocent."

  Why had she ever thought she could get away with lying to Aunt Margaret? The woman's psychic abilities were as keen as they'd ever been. No one kept secrets from Margaret McPhearson.

  "He is innocent," Elizabeth said. "And he's out there all alone, with no one on his side."

  "Be careful, Elizabeth. I feel great danger for you and for your man."

  "Pray for us, Aunt Margaret. Please pray for us."

  "I've been doing that since the night he came to you," Margaret told her niece.

  "I love you."

  "I love you, too, child."

  After hanging up the phone, Elizabeth swallowed, wiped her eyes and said a brief prayer of her own. Aunt Margaret had understood. She wasn't so sure about Sam Dundee.

  She dialed the Atlanta number and waited to be put through to Sam. Somehow she had to make him understand why she was going to follow Reece, and why it was imperative that he meet them in Newell.

  "Elizabeth?" Sam's deep voice was brisk and a bit harsh. "Has Landry left?"

  "He left almost thirty minutes ago. I let him take my Jeep."

  "Thank God he's gone. You've done some crazy things in your life, but this has to be the craziest."

  "Sam, I want you to listen to everything I have to say before you start screaming at me. Promise?" Elizabeth hated it when Sam made her feel like a naughty child. She supposed that came from his having had the responsibility of her guardianship for so many years. He couldn't stop acting like a big-brother protector.

  "I don't like it already. What are you up to?"

  "I'm going to follow Reece to Newell, and I'm going to have to-"

  "The hell you are! Now listen to me, young lady, you are not to leave Sequana Falls. Do you hear me? I don't care what all your special powers tell you about Reece Landry. The man is an escaped murderer, and whether he's guilty or innocent, the police aren't going to take that into consideration if he tries to resist arrest when they catch up with him."

  "I want you to meet me in Newell. Tomorrow. I'll call you in the morning and tell you where to meet us."

  "Elizabeth, don't do this!"

  "My mind is made up. I've already packed my bags, told Aunt Margaret and made plans for Mac
to stay with O'Grady."

  "If Landry took your Jeep, how do you plan on following him? You aren't taking that old delivery van you let O'Grady keep, are you?"

  "O'Grady will need the van for deliveries and to make trips up the mountain to keep check on the greenhouses while I'm gone." Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath, calling forth all her courage to tell Sam about her chosen mode of transportation. "I'm taking your old Thunderbird."

  "You're what?'' Sam bellowed.

  "You can pick it up tomorrow when you fly into Newell. I promise I'll take good care of your baby."

  "You are not going to take my '65 T-Bird down the mountain in weather like this. The roads will still be icy in spots. You could wreck the car and kill yourself."

  "I'll call you in the morning and let you know where to meet Reece and me. In the meantime, do whatever you can from Atlanta to get the ball rolling. We're going to discover who really killed B. K. Stanton, and we've got to do it as quickly as possible. Reece can't stay on the run forever."

  "Elizabeth, listen to me. Don't do this. It's crazy. You're asking for trouble. You're-"

  Elizabeth laid down the phone, cutting Sam off mid-tirade. He'd rant and rave for a while, but he'd eventually calm down, and when she called him in the morning to tell him where he could meet Reece and her, he would come prepared to help them.

  "Come on, Mac. You're going to visit Aunt Margaret and O'Grady. And I want you to be a good boy for them."

  Reece had followed Elizabeth's map and directions down to the last detail. He couldn't remember a time when he'd put so much trust in another human being, enough trust so that he literally put his life in her hands. She hadn't been kidding when she'd said she knew all the back roads off the mountain and through the surrounding towns. He hadn't run into one roadblock or seen anyone who even vaguely resembled a policeman, highway patrolman or sheriff's deputy. He'd pulled off the road halfway between Dover's Mill and Newell to relieve himself and enjoy one of the ham sandwiches Elizabeth had packed for him, along with coffee from a thermos she had prepared.

  The sun eased lower and lower on the western horizon. Reece guessed the time was around three or three-thirty in the afternoon. With clouds building steadily in the sky, blocking part of the sun's last rays, night was sure to fall early today. He was less than fifteen miles from Newell. He couldn't risk going into town, taking a chance that someone might recognize him.