The Outcast tp-3

by Beverly Barton

  "I know how difficult it must have been for you, but surely you realize that your father played you and Reece against each other for his own perverse reasons. You mustn't blame Reece-"

  Kenny roared with laughter, the laughter of a man on the edge of a breakdown. "Don't blame Reece for sleeping with my wife, for taking my father away from me, for stealing part of my inheritance." Kenny shoved Elizabeth up against the wall. "When I found out about Tracy and Reece, I should have killed her. I should have killed them both."

  Kenny's fingers closed around Elizabeth's throat, choking her. She grabbed at his shoulders, shoving him, at the same time kicking his leg. If only Reece would stay put, she could handle this situation. Kenny didn't have a weapon, and she felt certain she was strong enough to fight him off.

  Just as she raised her leg, aiming directly for Kenny's groin, he released her. Reece jerked Kenny away from Elizabeth, tossing him to the floor as easily as he would have thrown a pillow. Kenny glared up at his brother, pure hatred in his eyes. Elizabeth slumped against the wall, coughing several times, then gulping in air.

  "You slimy little son of a bitch!" Reece stared at Kenny, at his father's firstborn, at the soft, pampered, weak and spoiled heir to the throne.

  Lying flat on his back on the floor, Kenny looked toward Elizabeth. "I was right, wasn't I? You're just one more of Reece Landry's conquests." Then Kenny grinned as he stared up at Reece. "What's the matter, Landry? You don't want me to touch your woman? That's not fair, is it, since you've done a lot more than touch my wife?"

  Reece, his legs spread apart, clenched his hands open and closed as he stood over his brother, wanting more than anything to beat the hell out of Bradley Kenneth Stanton, Jr. "You're too blinded by hate to see the truth. God, I feel sorry for you. To think I envied you all my life."

  Elizabeth grabbed Reece by the sleeve of his jacket. "Don't do what you're thinking. He's not worth it."

  "You'd better listen to your lady friend," Kenny said, shoving himself up into a sitting position. "Unless you intend to kill me and Claire both. After all, she'd be a witness to my murder."

  Elizabeth tugged on Reece's sleeve. He glanced at her quickly, exchanging a brief message of understanding, then looked back down at Kenny. "Claire is going to tell the sheriff the truth about your fight with B.K.," Reece said. "And the man Tracy was with when B.K. was killed is going to blow your alibi, so, big brother, you'd better be prepared to do some explaining."

  "You think you're so damned smart, don't you?" Kenny's mouth widened into a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, I didn't kill Daddy. And Claire isn't going to tell the sheriff anything, and neither is that muscle-bound twenty-year-old Tracy was screwing the night you murdered Daddy."

  Elizabeth saw Claire pick up from the end table a heavy brass flower vase filled with an arrangement of silk roses. Elizabeth glanced at Reece, and knew he was aware of Claire's movements.

  "The Stantons own this town," Kenny said. "We make the rules. Nobody goes against a Stanton and wins. You should know that, Landry."

  Claire Roberts walked up behind Kenny, who sat on the floor smiling at Reece and Elizabeth, a cocky glint in his eyes. Lifting the large brass vase, Claire brought it down on top of Kenny's head. He fell sideways, unconscious. The brass vase thumped silently onto the floor; the peach silk roses scattered across the sea of blue carpet.

  Claire knelt beside Kenny, feeling for a pulse. "He's fine. I just knocked him out."

  "You most certainly did," Elizabeth said, slightly stunned by the other woman's actions.

  "Reece, you have to get away as fast as you can," Claire said. "I'll have to call the police before Kenny comes to, but I'll wait as long as I can to give you a head start."

  "Claire?" Reece stared at B. K. Stanton's secretary.

  "I'll tell the police everything. The truth about Kenny's quarrel with his father, the fact that he threatened to kill B.K. And... and I'll tell them that you were here tonight. I'm through with lying. For Kenny or for you."

  "That's fair enough," Reece said. "Thank you, Claire."

  "Go on. Get out of here." Bracing her hand on a recliner at her side, Claire lifted herself up from the floor.

  Slipping his arm around Elizabeth, Reece led her out the front door and to Sam's T-Bird.

  "Get in the back and lie down," Elizabeth told him. "I'll drive us to Spruce Pine as quickly as possible."

  Reece opened the car door. "We need to talk to Sam before we go back to the cottage. He should know what happened here, that Kenny's going to tell the police you're helping me. And I need to find out if Sam was able to persuade Tracy's lover to admit the truth."

  "It's too dangerous to go to Sam's motel. Once Kenny comes to-"

  "We're going to the motel," Reece said. "And Sam's going to get you out of Newell as fast as he can." "No! I won't go. I won't leave you." "Dammit, Lizzie. This time you'll do what I tell you to do."

  Chapter 11

  "Dammit, what a mess." Sam Dundee paced back and forth at the foot of the bed in his motel room. "You should turn yourself in, Reece. Tonight."

  "I don't know," Reece said. "My gut instincts tell me that now isn't the time, that we aren't any closer to finding the real killer."

  "Look, you've got Claire Roberts willing to admit that she lied under oath because Kenny Stanton threatened her, and I persuaded Neil Colburn to tell the police that Tracy Stanton paid him to keep quiet about being with her when your father was murdered. That shoots holes in Kenny's alibi."

  "We have no proof that Kenny killed B.K.," Reece said. "If I turn myself in, they'll pack me off to Arrendale, and appeal or no appeal, my chances of ever being set free are slim if we can't prove who really shot B.K."

  "The real murderer is going to reveal himself or herself." Elizabeth's gaze softened when she looked at Reece. If only he would allow her to comfort him. No matter how close he let her get, he kept a barrier between them-a barrier of fear and distrust.

  "Is that a psychic prediction or just a wild guess?" Reece knew he wasn't being fair to Elizabeth, but, dammit all, he'd had just about enough. He didn't know how much longer he could withstand the temptation to lower his guard completely, to let Elizabeth inside his head and inside his heart. He'd be a fool to keep her with him; she'd be an even bigger fool to stay.

  "Neither prediction nor guess." Elizabeth swallowed the tears trapped in her throat. Even knowing where Reece's anger and bitterness came from, she couldn't keep herself from being hurt by his words. "Whoever killed B.K. knows you're innocent, and he or she will soon know that I'm helping you and I've claimed to have a psychic vision of the murder. I don't think they'll wait too long before they make their move."

  "She's right," Sam said. "If the real murderer finds you and Elizabeth, he'll do whatever it takes to silence both of you."

  "Don't you think I know that." Reece narrowed his eyes, giving Sam a hard look. "I want you to get Elizabeth out of Newell as fast as you can. Tonight, if possible."

  "I would agree with you, except for one small problem you've overlooked," Sam said. "The sheriff will be looking for Elizabeth as soon as Kenny Stanton tells them that she's aiding and abetting you. There's no way I can get her out of Newell once that happens."

  "What the hell are we going to do?" Reece hated the thought of Elizabeth being in trouble with the law because of him.

  "Turn yourself in tonight." Sam nodded toward the telephone. "Call Gary Elkins and tell him to meet you at the sheriff's office. I'll go with you and Elizabeth, and we'll see if we can hoodoo them into believing that Elizabeth isn't involved, that Kenny Stanton is lying."

  "I'm not ready to give up my freedom." Reece couldn't bring himself to put his life in anyone else's hands. Not Gary Elkins's or Sam Dundee's. Not even Elizabeth's.

  "Wherever you go, whatever you do, I'm going with you." Elizabeth walked over to Reece, clasping his arm in her strong grip.

  Reece jerked away from her. "Don't be a fool, Lizzie. You've done everything you can do for me. I don't
want you following me around like some lovesick puppy. Just because I'm the first man you ever-"

  "Shut the hell up!" Sam bellowed, punching Reece in the chest with his index finger.

  Elizabeth placed her hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's all right, Sam. Reece's bark is a lot worse than his bite. He's tried this tactic before and it didn't work. Obviously he doesn't learn from his mistakes."

  "Obviously," Sam said.

  "How you've been able to put up with her all these years, Dundee, I'll never know." Grinning sheepishly, Reece shook his head. "You can't tell her anything. She knows too damn much. She can look through a guy like he's made of glass. And no matter what you say to her or do to her, she just keeps on caring."

  "That's called love and loyalty." Sam placed his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. "A couple of qualities that were obviously missing in your life, Landry."

  "Yeah, so it would seem."

  "If you don't intend to turn yourself in tonight, then I suggest that you and Elizabeth go back to Spruce Pine for the time being," Sam said. "If you don't get out of Newell pretty quick, you'll be trapped here."

  "You want Elizabeth to go with me?" Reece asked. "I thought you, of all people, would see how dangerous her being with me is."

  "I've known since the day she called and told me she was hiding you in her cabin that she was in danger because of you. But she didn't listen to my warnings then. And now it's too late to take her away from you."

  "Keep her here. Take her to the police. Make them believe that Kenny's lying, that her only involvement with me is through her visions."

  "That won't work," Elizabeth said. "Claire Roberts will tell the sheriff the truth. Besides, Sam is right. I won't leave you. He believes me when I say that somehow, some way, I'm the only person who can save you."

  "How?" Reece asked. "By having the real killer come after you?"

  "Perhaps. I'm not sure."

  "Time's a-wasting," Sam said. "You two go back to Spruce Pine. In the morning Gary Elkins and I will meet y'all at the Burtons' cottage. Be prepared to turn yourself in to the sheriff, Landry, or be a hundred miles away from here."

  "I don't like ultimatums."

  "And I don't like Elizabeth's life being in danger."

  "All right," Reece agreed. "You get in touch with Gary. Give him all the information we've uncovered, and meet us at the cottage first thing in the morning. That will give me all night to sort through things, to decide what to do."

  "If you leave, don't take Elizabeth with you."

  "She'll be waiting for you at the cottage, whether I'm there or not."

  "Hold on just one minute," Elizabeth said. "Nobody's making any decisions for me."

  Reece grabbed Elizabeth's arm. "If I run, Lizzie, I'll be running for the rest of my life, and you won't be going with me."

  Elizabeth wanted to protest, to tell Reece that she didn't care where he went, she was going with him. But she realized that Reece was right. If he didn't trust her enough to accept her help, to believe that Sam and Gary Elkins and Chris Stanton were all on his side, then there was no hope for Reece and her. She couldn't force Reece to trust her or to love her. There was no way she could reach his mind or his heart if he continued denying her entrance.

  Elizabeth turned to Sam, pulling free of Reece's hold on her arm. "I'll be waiting for you in the morning. We'll go to the sheriff and tell him everything. The complete truth. And then I'll face the consequences of my actions."

  Sam hugged Elizabeth. "Ah, kiddo, why did you have to grow up?"

  "He'll do the right thing," Elizabeth whispered to Sam. "I have to believe that he'll decide he can trust us."

  "If you're going with me, let's go." Reece swung open the motel-room door.

  Elizabeth followed him outside. A slow, steady drizzle fell from the sky. Raindrops pelted her face as she stood gazing out into the dark night.

  "Please, dear Lord, please take care of Reece," Elizabeth prayed silently. "Set him free. Give him the peace he's never known."

  When Reece prodded her to move, she turned to him, staring into his hard, lone-wolf eyes. He had shut her out. Not one sign of emotion showed on his face.

  Elizabeth stepped out of the shower, dried herself off quickly and slipped into clean panties, jeans and a sweater. After towel-drying her long hair, she combed it away from her face. A weariness she had seldom experienced encompassed her, a bone-tired weariness, a heartsick weariness.

  In less than a week her whole world had turned upside down, thanks to Reece Landry, thanks to her own obsession with saving him-saving him not only from a wrongful conviction but from a life that had almost destroyed him.

  No matter how hard she tried to get through to him, he would allow her only so close and no closer. He had made love to her with a passion she'd never known existed, but he had given only a portion of himself to her, holding in reserve his heart, not trusting anyone enough to share his soul.

  Elizabeth felt as if she had lost control of her life, of her thoughts, of her emotions. Reece Landry had become her whole world. She had become so wrapped up in helping him that she'd lost herself.

  Elizabeth opened the door to the bedroom she had shared with Reece only last night. It might as well have been a million nights ago. He had been so cold and distant since their return to the cottage. She had no idea where he was. Outside, in the living room or in an upstairs bedroom. Of course, she understood that he, too, had some soul-searching to do. Would he be able to put his trust in others, to accept the advice of his lawyer?

  Sitting down at the antique dressing table, Elizabeth ran a comb through her damp hair. She glanced into the mirror, seeing her own image, the wide blue eyes, the mane of dark wet hair, the sad expression she could not banish.

  Laying down the comb, she closed her eyes, extinguishing her own image, closing out the world. She hadn't meditated in several days. At home in Sequana Falls, daily meditation was a part of her life, helping her center her energy and focus her abilities. Aunt Margaret had taught her that meditation was the only way she would ever learn to control the great talent with which she had been blessed, the only way her soul could derive true peace.

  The day would come when she would be able to shield herself, to protect herself from the psychic energy of others. Aunt Margaret had explained how many years it had taken her to reach a point of self-protection, where she could, at will, block out the bombardment of the energy others emitted.

  Elizabeth repeated the word angel, using it as her mantra, seeking sanctuary and inner peace in her prayerlike state of meditation.

  "An-gel. An-gel. An-gel." As she chanted, her voice became a low whisper, her mind gradually clearing as utter calmness encompassed her.

  Reece eased open the bedroom door, stopping dead still when he saw Elizabeth sitting at the dressing table, her eyes shut, her lips moving repeatedly as she whispered a single word. Angel.

  What the hell was she doing, his loyal, loving little witch? Casting a spell? Going into a trance? Calling on the heavenly hosts to come to their aid?

  The best he could make out, she was praying or something along those lines. He couldn't remember a time since he was a kid that he'd prayed, that he'd asked for someone else's help. He'd begged and pleaded for someone-anyone-to save his mother and him from Harry Gunn. He supposed, in a way, God had answered his prayers, but he had taken his own sweet time doing it. Blanche's death had freed her from Harry; Reece's physical strength had emancipated him from his stepfather's brutality.

  Even knowing he was witnessing a private moment in Elizabeth's life, one he had no right to share, he could not turn and walk away. He couldn't stop staring at her, listening to her, absorbing some of the radiant peace she emanated, like a deep spring bubbling forth pure, clean water. A warmth spread through his body, accompanied by a calmness he had never known.

  What was happening to him? he wondered. Was Elizabeth delving into his mind? Was she manipulating his emotions?

  She looked so serene sitting there
at perfect peace with herself and with the world around her. She was offering that same peace to him. Did he dare believe in its existence? And if he did believe, did he have the courage to accept her precious gift?

  He wasn't sure how long he stood in the doorway, transfixed by Elizabeth's beauty, both physical and spiritual. Perhaps it was only minutes. Perhaps longer.

  Complete quiet settled over the room. Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned slowly toward Reece. He saw that she started to lift her hand to him, but stopped abruptly.

  "How long have you been standing there?" she asked.

  "Don't you know?"

  "Yes, I know, but do you?"

  "I don't think I'm ready to accept what you're offering me." Reece walked into the room, his gaze fixed on Elizabeth. "I want to trust you completely. I want to believe that my life can be... That I can put the past behind me. All the anger and pain and hatred. But I can't."

  "You don't want to let go of the emotions that have dominated your life." Elizabeth turned all the way around on the velvet bench. "You're afraid of the unknown. Of trust and loyalty and love."

  Reece sat on the edge of the bed. Raking his hand down his face, he wiped his mouth. "You want me to turn myself in, don't you? You want me to hand myself over to the sheriff and trust you and Sam and Gary and Chris to save me."

  She smiled at Reece. Tears gathered in her eyes, obscuring her vision. "I know it's difficult for you to accept the fact that there are people who care about you, but-"

  "I didn't ask anybody to care about me." Bent over, his hands clasped together between his spread knees, Reece stared at the floor. "I didn't ask you to help me and I didn't ask you to care about me."

  Such anger! Elizabeth felt the resurgence of hostile emotions growing inside Reece. He was fighting an inner battle, yearning for something he didn't quite believe in, afraid to relinquish his hold on the old demons that had haunted his life since childhood-the familiarity of their ugly but constant presence the only thing he'd ever been able to count on.

  "What if you allowed me to see into your future? If I could promise you that B.K.'s real murderer would be brought to justice and you would be cleared of all charges, would you trust me and the others who want to help you?"