The Outcast tp-3

by Beverly Barton

  Elizabeth read the worry in Sam's mind, picking up on his fear that she would do something irrational when she found out about-

  "They're taking Reece to Arrendale today, aren't they? Why? Couldn't they wait a day or two?"

  "Reece was arrested yesterday morning. Although the sheriff is willing to reopen the investigation into B. K. Stanton's murder, the fact remains that Reece was convicted of the crime and sentenced to prison."

  "Reece will go crazy locked up in a cell." Elizabeth swallowed her tears. "Sam, we've got to find the person who really killed B. K. Stanton."

  "We will. I promise. You know you can count on me." Sam released her hand, then sat in a chair beside her bed. "As soon as you're released from the hospital, I'll drive you up to Alto, to Arrendale for a visit with Reece."

  "Isn't the sheriff going to arrest me for aiding and abetting a criminal?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Looks like the sheriff is going to buy Tracy Stanton's story that she brought you out to her parents' summer house yesterday morning. She said that you were a psychic who'd had a vision about B.K.'s death and you'd come to the family with the news that Reece was innocent. She and Christina decided you should stay on in Newell in case you had any more visions."

  "The sheriff didn't actually believe her, did he?"

  Sam grinned. "Hell, no, but he's not about to call Mrs. Bradley Kenneth Stanton, Jr., a liar."

  "I see. Reece was right about the Stantons' power in Newell, wasn't he?"

  "In this case, let's be thankful. You can rest easy now, kiddo. Just get better so I can take you home."

  Elizabeth placed her hand on her stomach, reminding herself that she was responsible for the new life inside her. She relaxed against the pillows, breathing softly, suddenly aware of the pain in her bandaged side. She closed her eyes, concentrating on Reece, trying to transmit a message of love and hope to him. As she lay there sending love out into the atmosphere, a dark sense of foreboding surrounded her.

  Someone was afraid of her-afraid she knew the truth about B. K. Stanton's murder. He wanted to prevent her from helping Reece, but knew he couldn't risk coming to the hospital.

  "Are you in pain?'' Sam asked.

  "No... not really. Why?"

  "You're frowning."

  "The person who killed B. K. Stanton is a man." Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked at Sam. "He's afraid I'll be able to identify him."

  Sam leaned over the bed, gently grasping her face in his hand. "Turn it off, honey. Shield yourself. You're not strong enough for this right now."

  She raised her head, nodding, knowing Sam was right. But without any warning the vision came. She could not stop the flow of color, the formation of images, the whirling, spinning sensation that enveloped her mind.

  A huge crowd of people lined the sidewalk. Flanking Reece, two deputies brought him outside the building, hurrying him through the throng of observers.

  Someone's thoughts screamed inside Elizabeth's head. Reece Landry must die. He's caused enough pain. Even if I must sacrifice myself, I won't allow Landry to inherit any of his father's estate. I'll protect...I'll protect...I'll do whatever it takes.

  Bracing her body with her hand, Elizabeth pushed herself into a sitting position, then reached out and grabbed Sam's arm.

  "He's going to kill Reece. Today. When they bring Reece out of the jail. He'll be hiding in the crowd."

  "Calm down." Sam tried to make Elizabeth lie back down, but she refused.

  "Please, Sam, you've got to stop them from taking Reece out of jail today."

  "The sheriff isn't going to listen to me, honey."

  "You can't let him kill Reece!"

  Sam took Elizabeth's shoulders in his strong, gentle grasp, pushing her down on the bed. "I'll go to the jail and see what I can do. If nothing else, I'll keep watch. I'll guard Reece."

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I wish I could see the man's face, but I can't. He hates Reece. He's willing to sacrifice anything to keep Reece from going free."

  "Everything will be all right," Sam said. "Whoever this man is, if he tips his hand today, I'll be there to catch him."

  "Are you sure Harry Gunn is well guarded?" Elizabeth asked. "And what about Kenny Stanton?"

  "Harry Gunn isn't in any shape to walk out of this hospital, but even if he was, the deputy would stop him. As for Kenny Stanton, I don't have any idea where he is, but I can find out."

  "Don't let anything happen to Reece. I love him."

  "Yeah, kiddo, I know you do."

  Chapter 13

  The nurse came in shortly after Sam left and gave Elizabeth an injection. She protested the shot, but the nurse insisted. She had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had suggested they give her something to calm her down a little.

  She didn't want to sleep, but the medication overcame her resistance. When she awoke, she rang the nurses' station and asked for the time. It was eleven-fifteen. Surely by now Sam had persuaded the sheriff not to move Reece today. What difference could one day make to the local authorities? Maybe Sam had gone to Gary Elkins and Reece's lawyer had contacted a judge about delaying the transfer.

  Elizabeth tried to focus her energy on Reece. Where was he? How was he doing? What was he thinking? With a sudden, sharp clarity, the vision of Reece being led up the sidewalk appeared in Elizabeth's mind. The crowd was pushing closer and closer. Newspaper reporters where shouting questions. Photographers were snapping shots of the prisoner. Sam Dundee and Gary Elkins followed Reece and the deputies. Elizabeth scanned the crowd. Christina Stanton stood beside her brother, Kenny, and his wife, Tracy. Willard Moran stood alone on the opposite side of the walkway. The sun reflected off the muzzle of a gun-a gun aimed directly at Reece. Breaking through the crowd, Elizabeth hurried toward Reece. She saw the startled look on his face, then heard him call her name.

  The truth of what would happen hit her with full impact. She and she alone could save Reece. Only she could zero in on the killer. Only she could read a person's mind. She had to go to the jail and stop the killer before he shot Reece.

  Elizabeth eased the intravenous needle from her hand. When she tried to sit up, her head spun around and around. Slow and easy, she told herself. You can't pass out. Not now. Taking her time, she slipped out of bed and stood, holding on to the bed rails.

  Glancing down at her open-backed hospital gown, she wondered where they'd put her clothes. Damn, they would be covered with blood. Taking tentative steps, gauging her strength as she walked across the room, Elizabeth opened the closet. She sighed with relief when she saw her bag lying on the floor. Bending over, she gasped when the pain in her side sliced through her like a sharp rapier.

  She knelt, undid her bag and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a heavy peach wool sweater. Her shoes lay beside her bag. She dressed as quickly as she could, but each movement came with pain. Pulling her purse out of the bag, she slung it over her shoulder.

  Easing open the door, she peered out into the hallway. She didn't see anyone, not even one nurse. She made her way along the corridor to the elevators, punched the Down button and waited. She wondered how close the hospital was to the jail. If necessary, she'd call a cab when she got downstairs.

  Once on the ground level, she stopped at the reception desk and inquired about the location of the local jail. She couldn't believe her luck when the young woman told her that the county jail was only two blocks away, directly behind the courthouse.

  When she walked outside, the winter wind bit into her heavy sweater, chilling her. The wound in her side ached, and she still felt a little light-headed from the medication. Her pain didn't matter-nothing mattered except saving Reece. With each step she took, she knew she was one step closer to keeping the man she loved alive.

  She could hear the crowd several minutes before she rounded the corner and saw them. Reece Landry's capture and transport to Arrendale had to be the media event of the year in Newell, Georgia. The sidewalk leading to the jail was lined with people, so many people that Elizabeth
couldn't even see the sidewalk.

  She made her way through the fringe crowd that waited around near the street, dozens of people who were there simply to see the spectacle. Directly in front of her, toward the back of the crowd, stood Kenny Stanton, Tracy at his side. Elizabeth glanced to their right and to their left, searching for Christina. Then she saw her, standing directly in front of Kenny. The whole Stanton family was here to see Reece off. Everyone except Alice.

  Kenny was the most likely suspect. No one could hate Reece more than Kenny, unless it was Harry Gunn. Elizabeth tried to connect with Kenny, but found it impossible. The psychic energy coming from the crowd mixed and mingled, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint the exact location of a thought or feeling.

  If only she could touch Kenny, she might be able to separate his energy from the energy of those around him. And if he saw her, he would know that she was on to him, and might not make a move against Reece. Regardless of what Kenny might or might not do, she had to approach him.

  Breathless from her two-block walk from the hospital, Elizabeth made her way through the crowd, nudging between the curious men and women waiting for a glimpse of Reece Landry. Christina saw her, her eyes widening, her mouth forming a circle. Elizabeth shook her head. Christina nodded.

  Elizabeth brushed up against Kenny. Turning quickly, he stared at her. Her knees trembled. She gripped Kenny's arm. Glaring at her, he looked down at her hand clutching his coat sleeve.

  She could sense doubts in Kenny's mind-grave doubts. He was no longer certain that his half brother had killed their father.

  Kenny looked Elizabeth in the eye, then placed his hand atop hers. "You shouldn't be out of the hospital, Ms. Mallory."

  Tracy jerked her head around. "What are you doing here?"

  Elizabeth pulled her hand off Kenny's arm, willing herself to find the strength to stand alone. "Please, I have to find him. It isn't you."

  "What are you talking about?" Kenny asked.

  "You aren't the murderer. You didn't come here to shoot Reece."

  The crowd's rumble grew louder. Elizabeth shoved past Kenny and Tracy to see the front doors of the county jail swing open. The sheriff walked out first, followed by two deputies who led Reece down the steps. Sam Dundee and Gary Elkins were only a minute behind the others.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, trying desperately to pick up on any kind of signal the killer might be emitting. She couldn't rush in front of Reece this time and take the bullet for him. She had no idea from which direction the bullet would come; the crowd circled Reece.

  Hatred. Deep, soul-wrenching hatred. She felt it so strongly that she almost doubled over in pain. And the hatred was directed at Reece-because he was B. K. Stanton's illegitimate son. Because Reece's existence had caused Alice Stanton unbearable shame and heartache. Reece could not be allowed to live, to lay claim to a fortune that didn't belong to him.

  "Oh, dear God," Elizabeth said, her voice inaudible in the boisterous racket coming from the crowd. She glanced across the sidewalk. There in the front row stood Willard Moran, dressed in a conservative blue suit, his charcoal gray overcoat unbuttoned, his hand in his pocket.

  She looked up the sidewalk. The sheriff was only a few feet away, Reece and the deputies directly behind him.

  Reece saw her then, saw her pale face, noted the fear in her eyes. What the hell was Elizabeth doing out of the hospital? When Reece halted, the deputies slowed enough to accommodate him.

  Reece called out to Sam. "I thought you said Elizabeth would have to stay in the hospital a few days. What's she doing here?"

  Elizabeth's gaze met Sam's, then she looked over at Willard Moran, knowing she and she alone could stop him. He was holding a gun in his pocket, waiting for the moment Reece would pass him, waiting to kill Reece.

  Elizabeth nudged her way between two reporters calling out questions to the sheriff and to Reece. Willard Moran stepped onto the sidewalk, between the sheriff and his deputies. Elizabeth ran forward, throwing herself into Willard. The gun in his hand fired, the bullet sailing into the air over their heads. When Willard's body hit the ground, the gun flew out of his hand, falling with a clang onto the edge of the sidewalk.

  Reece tried to run to Elizabeth, but the chains around his ankles slowed his gait. Startled by what had just happened, the deputies didn't instantly realize that their prisoner had pulled away from them. They grabbed Reece tightly, jerking him back. He fought them, trying desperately to reach Elizabeth, calling out her name.

  Sam Dundee rushed past Reece, shoving everyone in his way aside. The blood surged through Reece's body, his heart pumping wildly as he strained in the confines of his cuffs and chains.

  Willard Moran knocked Elizabeth off him. She rolled over onto the sidewalk, blood oozing through her sweater. Before Willard could stand, Sheriff Bates grabbed him, jerking him to his feet. Sam knelt beside Elizabeth, lifting her into his arms.

  She felt Sam holding her, heard Reece crying out her name. She wanted to get up, to go to Reece and tell him that she was all right, but she couldn't make her body cooperate. Raising her head, she struggled to sit up.

  "Reece.. .Reece..." She barely recognized her own voice. So raspy. So whispery soft.

  "Reece is okay. He's just fine," Sam said. "Take it easy. We've got to get you back to the hospital."

  "Elizabeth!" Reece's tortured voice drowned out the crowd's clamor.

  Deputies began ordering the bystanders to move away from the scene, to disperse and leave the situation to the authorities. Reporters buzzed around like busy bees; photographers snapped shot after shot-of the crowd, of the sheriff cuffing Willard Moran, of the deputies holding back the crowd, of Reece Landry's tortured face, of Sam Dundee holding Elizabeth in his arms.

  "Clear this crowd out of here," the sheriff ordered. He shoved Willard Moran toward a deputy. "Take Mr. Moran inside and detain him until we have things under control out here."

  "Reece. I want to see Reece." Elizabeth pleaded with Sam.

  The sheriff motioned at the two deputies holding Reece. "Bring Landry over here. Now!"

  Reece couldn't get to Elizabeth fast enough to suit him. Kneeling, he cursed the cuffs that bound his hands, that restricted his movements. More than anything he wanted to take Elizabeth out of Sam's arms, to hold her close to him.

  "Elizabeth." Tears streamed down Reece's cheeks. He couldn't remember ever crying in front of people, or even crying alone. Not until Elizabeth Mallory had come into his life.

  "Willard Moran killed your father," Elizabeth said.

  Reece and Sam exchanged knowing looks. "And he was going to kill me, wasn't he?" Reece leaned over, brushing his lips across Elizabeth's forehead. "You risked your life coming here." Reece choked on the tears in his throat. "You've risked your life twice to save me."

  "You'll be free now, Reece. Free to live the life you've always wanted." Elizabeth lifted her hand, touching the side of Reece's face with her fingertips.

  "God, Lizzie. Dear God!" Reece crumbled, his body shaking with sobs, his head resting on Elizabeth's chest.

  She stroked his hair, caressing him with loving fingers. "I won't ever have to cry for you again, will I, Reece? You... you can cry... for yourself now."

  Reece jerked his head up. He saw Elizabeth's eyes close and felt her hand drop away from his head.

  "Lizzie!"

  "Come on, Reece, get up!" Sam ordered. "Get out of the way. I've got to take her back to the hospital."

  The deputies lifted Reece to his feet. He watched, helpless to do anything else, as Sam lifted Elizabeth in his arms and carried her down the sidewalk.

  "Get Landry back inside," the sheriff told his deputies. "Looks like we're definitely reopening the B. K. Stanton murder case."

  Elizabeth sat in the chair beside the hospital bed she had occupied for the past few days. Her bag was packed, and she was dressed in jeans, a blue silk blouse and a brown suede vest. She and Sam were driving home to Sequana Falls today, but before she
left, she had to see Reece.

  Although Sam had kept her abreast of the events following Willard Moran's arrest, she regretted that she hadn't been at Reece's side to see him through the painful process and to share in the jubilant relief when Gary Elkins had completed the legalities that set Reece free.

  Christina had stopped by yesterday to thank Elizabeth for all the help she'd given Reece and to tell her that no one in the family had suspected Willard Moran was capable of murder. The man had been B. K. Stanton's lawyer for over thirty years, a trusted friend. Chris and Kenny had called the man Uncle Willard all their lives.

  Willard Moran had loved Alice Stanton with a mindless devotion. By destroying B.K. and eliminating Reece, he had thought to protect Alice from any more hurt and make sure her children's inheritance wasn't squandered on her husband's bastard son. In the end, Willard had been willing to sacrifice himself to achieve his goal.

  Elizabeth heard a soft knock at the door. "Come in." She turned to see Sam standing in the doorway, Reece behind him.

  "You're all dressed and ready to leave," Sam said.

  "The doctor told me to take it easy for a few days, and not to do anything that might reopen my wound again." Elizabeth smiled at Sam, deliberately not looking at Reece.

  Sam grabbed Reece by the arm, hauled him to his side, then stepped back into the hallway. "I'll go get a cup of coffee or something while you two visit. I'll be back to get you in a little bit, kiddo."

  Reece stood in the doorway, staring at Elizabeth, his expression grave. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

  "I feel a lot better." Every nerve in her body came to full alert, tingling with excitement and fear. "Come on in, Reece."

  Reece ambled into her hospital room, his gaze traveling over the walls, the ceiling and the floor. Standing beside Elizabeth's chair, he cleared his throat.

  Elizabeth stared at Reece, noting how different he looked from the man who had passed out in her cabin less than two weeks ago. He'd had a haircut, his glossy brown hair neatly styled, and he was freshly shaved. He wore dark brown slacks and a camel tan wool jacket, his tie a conservative beige-and-coral-striped silk.