“Annabeth, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“No, of course not.”
“I just meant maybe we should have figured out a different way, left the investigating to the professionals.”
“Right. Maybe that would have been best,” she said coolly. In control, she was calm and collected. And sounding bitter. “Then you could have proved your grandmother’s legacy wrong.”
“No. That—you and me—has nothing to do with it.”
“That has everything to do with this, Neil. You wanted out from the first. You’re sorry you ever got involved. And I’m sorry I talked you into it.”
“Annabeth—”
“I need to get to work.”
“Give me fifteen minutes to shower and shave.”
Ignoring him, she walked out the door.
“Annabeth, wait!”
She didn’t so much as look back.
His gut tying itself into a knot, Neil told himself to calm down. She was angry with him, but she would get over it. When she had time to think things over, she would understand what he meant.
Pacing, he nearly stumbled when his bare foot caught in the T-shirt that he’d stripped from her the night before. Missing her already, Neil swooped down to fetch it.
The moment he inhaled her fragrance, he felt his surroundings fade…
Annabeth’s eyes go wide and the breath catches at the back of her throat.
Her fear is palpable, as fierce as the beat of her heart.
Ba-bump…ba-bump…ba-bump…
“You!” she breathes…
As Neil returned to reality with an unpleasant jolt.
“Where the hell is she? What’s going to happen?”
He shook the T-shirt as if it would reveal its secrets, but Neil got no more from the soft material that belonged to the woman he loved.
What the hell was going on?
The vision had been so short it might not have transpired at all. A flash and not a clear one at that, almost like a television program that he couldn’t tune in properly.
And then it hit him.
Every other time he’d had a precognitive episode, Annabeth had been present and they’d had physical contact.
But he hadn’t been touching her and she wasn’t even close by—so what did his having a vision now mean? Was it merely a progression of his gift? Or an extra–alarm warning?
Fearing to guess at the details, Neil got ready to go after her.
Chapter Fifteen
Annabeth caught a bus to work. After the horror she’d experienced the other night, she was off the El, perhaps for good. The ride might be longer, but it gave her time to think things through.
What was wrong with her? She’d known Neil was going to leave. She’d known she would have to be content with memories. What she hadn’t figured on was the regret she’d heard in his words. That he regretted getting mixed up with her hurt more than she might have imagined.
But how could she blame him? A man dead. Something that would haunt them both forever, she expected. Nickels’s demise had been a team effort, after all.
She’d managed to put that to the back of her mind by the time she got to work. Work—exactly what she needed. Hauling feed might be physically exhausting, but at least it relieved some of her stress. She needed to be tired enough so that she could sleep at night.
She was doing just that when she realized she wasn’t alone. Looking up, she found Neil watching her, and all the disappointment from that morning came tumbling back to weigh down her heart.
“You’re all right,” he said.
Though he appeared genuinely relieved, she steeled herself against going all soft inside.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said coolly.
“I was worried when you left like you did.”
“I didn’t want to be late to work, especially not after Lloyd went to the trouble of cutting me another check.”
Which, she reminded herself, she still had not cashed.
“You’re angry with me and I don’t blame you. I could have chosen my words more carefully.”
“Why? You meant them.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, but—”
“That’s that, then.”
“I’m not sorry I got involved with you, Annabeth. I’m just sorry I had to be the one responsible for a man’s death.”
“I’m equally responsible, Neil. Maybe more. I was the one who wanted to get Nickels. Well, I certainly did that. You never did approve of my wanting to go after him in the first place.”
He never approved of her, Annabeth thought. And now he was saddled forever with a guilt that was her fault. She had pushed him into action he’d wanted no part of. No matter that he said he didn’t regret getting involved with her, he would never be able to forget that.
“Can we get out of here—go someplace else to talk?”
“I’m working, Neil, and talking won’t change what happened. And you have to compete in what—an hour or so? You’d better go check in with Cisco.”
“Please.”
“We have nothing to discuss.”
“We have everything to talk about,” Neil insisted. “How about later, after work?”
Feeling herself weakening, Annabeth clenched her teeth together and refused to answer.
Neil nodded and backed off, saying, “Later, then.”
Alone in the barn once more, Annabeth closed her eyes and whispered, “Good luck, Neil. And I hope you go home the big winner.”
ANNABETH WAS SAFE. That was the important thing.
But as Neil left the barn, he wondered for how long. Across the preparation area, he spotted Alderman Salvador Lujan and rodeo committeeman Peter Telek together. Deep in conversation, neither man noticed him.
That Lujan was still walking around free made Neil uneasy. Wondering if Wexler’s investigation had turned up anything of significance about the alderman, he checked his watch and decided he had plenty of time to make a phone call before he had to tack up Cisco. He headed for the barn office and phone.
Once there, he dialed Wexler’s cell phone. Two rings and the man answered.
“Detective, this is Neil Farrell. I was wondering what you’d dug up on Lujan.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but nothing incriminating yet. Actually, just the opposite. I found Hector Sanchez—the man he claimed he had the disagreement with the other day. Sanchez confirmed it.”
So Lujan hadn’t been arguing with the thief. Or had he been?
“How can you be sure Sanchez didn’t lie for Lujan?”
“Unless my radar is way off, Sanchez dislikes Lujan for the bigmouthed politician he is.”
“Then why would Wainwright have lied?”
“Maybe he was mistaken. Or maybe Lujan had more than one argument in the same day.”
Neil could certainly believe that. “Thanks, Detective. Keep us posted.”
Thoughtful, he hung up and checked his watch again.
Time to saddle up.
On automatic, he went through the routine, then led Cisco into the waiting area. He didn’t stray far from his mount but stood there watching Annabeth’s every move as she ran the calves through the chute.
Even sweaty and dusty, she was a beautiful sight to behold, one he didn’t want to lose. But when she looked his way, her expression chilled him. It seemed resigned, as if she was trying to tell him goodbye.
And then it was his turn to ride.
Even though Nickels was gone, Neil checked his cinch and tack over for tampering one last time before mounting up.
As he backed into the roping box, he looked over to the chute only to see Jake manning it. Startled, he wondered what had happened to Annabeth. Telling himself not to panic, he looked around but didn’t see her anywhere.
A warning in his gut told him he needed to get to her fast.
And so after he gave Jake the nod, he set off after his calf, roped and tied the critter in his fastest time ever.
Then
he rode up to Jake. “Where’s Annabeth?”
“Said she just needed to get away. She asked me to take over for her.”
Neil rode Cisco toward the arena exit, praying he would find Annabeth safe and well.
SHE’D HAD to get away.
Annabeth hadn’t wanted to watch Neil ride one more time, not when she might break down crying. So she’d left the chute to Jake and hoped Lloyd would understand and not fire her on the spot. She only had a few days of work left and she needed every hour of pay she could make.
After that, she didn’t know what she was going to do. The city had held little charm for her before she herself had been entangled in violence. Now the very idea of staying here was out of the question. She would move, maybe to Lincoln where she had relatives. A mother. That wouldn’t mean she’d given up, Annabeth thought fiercely, not the way her mother had.
She entered the barn, which held a surprise—Lloyd himself in a pen with calves.
Certain that she’d never seen these particular calves before, she said, “You found our missing critters.”
Lloyd started. “Annabeth, you startled me.” He cut through the miniherd toward her. “Yeah, they finally turned up. Better late than never, right?”
“Right.”
Wearing one of his fancy shirts, Lloyd had rolled up his sleeves—an attempt to keep them clean, she guessed. But her gaze slipped to his forearm with the wound that had not yet healed.
The wound looked exactly like a bite. Her eyes widened. A human bite?
She remembered biting the man who’d attacked her on her stairs…
The short hairs at the back of her neck stirred and Annabeth lifted her gaze to meet Lloyd’s. And in that meeting, she recognized the truth.
“You…you were behind everything!”
His smile faded. “I was afraid you’d figure it out eventually.”
“You hired those thugs to rob the rodeo bank?” The breath caught in her throat at the thought that she’d trusted this man. “Why?”
“Business.”
“Business? You mean stealing?”
“Stealing…scamming…” He heaved a big sigh. “Whatever you want to call it doesn’t matter to me. Been saving for my retirement for years. And now it’s time I take it easy. This theft was gonna be my big score. My retirement insurance. And it should have been a breeze with my information and a couple of locals handling it. But you ruined it, Annabeth, when you created havoc in the hostage situation and the money got left behind. You ruined it for me,” he repeated with emphasis.
Anger and the need for answers competed with a healthy dose of fear that rooted her to the spot. “Is that why you attacked me?”
Rolling down his sleeves, Lloyd shouldered past her to get out of the pen. “I couldn’t let you identify Nickels. And I had to take care of him too—a pillow makes a silent weapon. He might have talked to save his own hide.”
“So you killed both him and Vega?”
Lloyd shrugged. “They thought they were gonna get money out of me. They were scum.”
And he wasn’t?
“Why the ruse, Lloyd?” she asked, wanting the whole truth now that she had him cornered. “Why lift my wallet? You had my address on my work application.”
“I wanted to throw suspicion elsewhere, of course. If I had just shown up at your place without covering my tracks, Detectives Wexler and Smith might have wondered how Nickels or Vega could have known where you lived. Eventually, they would have looked at me.”
“And I suppose you cut me that duplicate check so I wouldn’t suspect you.”
“Smart girl. I like you, Annabeth, I really do. Too bad I gotta kill you,” Lloyd said, slipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out a gun. “And this time, there’s no one around to save you.”
AT THE BARN DOOR, Neil froze when he heard Wainwright’s threat. He slipped into the shadows and cautiously peered inside to see a shaking Annabeth glaring at the stockman, whose back was to Neil.
“I don’t need someone to save me,” she said. “I’m not afraid of you!”
Neil silently cursed—she was taunting the man. Part of another of her impulsive plans?
Wainwright laughed. “You ought to be afraid.”
“You won’t get away with this, Lloyd.”
“But I will. No one has a reason to suspect me here. Why, I was one of the victims.”
“So was Alderman Lujan. You made a mistake when you pointed a finger at him.”
“C’mon, Annabeth,” he said, grabbing her arm and jerking it. “Let’s go down to the lake. The fish are waiting.”
“How is it the thieves took you hostage, Lloyd? I don’t believe that was part of your plan.”
“An ugly coincidence.” Wainwright’s voice hardened. “Now move.”
Neil drew farther back into the shadows as Annabeth stepped out of the barn, the stockman right behind her. He could tell from the set of her body that she was winding herself up for a desperate attempt of some kind.
Neil waited only until they cleared the building before launching his attack. He flew at Wainwright from behind at an angle and practically knocked the bigger man off his feet.
“What the hell!” The stockman wheeled around, gun hand first.
That’s when Annabeth launched herself at him, knocking his arm upward so that he shot at the stars.
“Annabeth, get out of the way!”
She didn’t move fast enough.
Wainwright wrapped a meaty arm around her neck and pointed the muzzle of his gun at her head even as a couple of other people came out to investigate.
“Stay back or I kill her!”
Neil could smell fear on the stockman now, and he knew from experience that a cornered animal was dangerous.
“No use killing Annabeth, Wainwright. Too many witnesses. It’s over. Let her go and give yourself up.”
“Like hell I will. Move, Farrell, and she dies.”
With the gun still to Annabeth’s head, he dragged her back and looked around wildly.
Helpless to do anything but watch lest he carry the guilt of being responsible for the death of the woman he loved, Neil connected with Annabeth and concentrated.
Give me a clue, Sunshine.
Neil’s reality suddenly shifted…
A determined expression hardens Annabeth’s face as Wainwright drags her backward.
She meets Neil’s intent gaze and nods, then goes limp…
Neil had difficulty separating the minivision from the reality that tumbled directly on top of it, but the moment Annabeth dropped and took Wainwright off balance, he was after the bastard.
Cursing, the stockman let go of Annabeth and ran toward a cowboy who’d been cooling down his still-saddled horse. He waved the gun, took the reins and then mounted.
One swift look at Annabeth assured Neil that she was all right. “Get a hold of Wexler!” he shouted as he went for Cisco at the water tank.
Wainwright headed the pinto past the arena. By the time Neil was in the saddle, the other man had disappeared from sight. No matter. He aimed Cisco in the same direction, which took him toward the midway crowded with thousands of people.
Wainwright veered around one of the rides and headed straight across the center of the midway, scattering angry pedestrians. Closing the gap, Neil followed suit until a policeman on a bicycle got in the way to stop him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, cowboy?” the cop asked.
Never taking his eyes off the villain, he said, “Call Detective Dan Wexler and tell him Neil Farrell is trying to stop a murderer, pronto!” He rounded the bicycle and avoided the cop’s reach.
He charged off after Wainwright who’d come out on the other side and was now nearing Buckingham Fountain. A cloud of pink dust rose around him as his horse’s hooves scattered the fancy fine gravel. People who were oohing and aahing the water display turned to stare after them, and when the stockman turned in his saddle to shoot at Neil, a little kid started screaming.
<
br /> Luckily, he missed.
“Stop before you hit some innocent bystander!” Neil yelled.
Sense must have knocked into him because Wainwright threw the loaded gun to the ground before he took off at breakneck speed.
A couple of kids went after the weapon, but Neil beat them to it, swooping over his saddle and grabbing the gun before it got in the wrong hands. He stuffed it in his waistband and saw that Wainwright had set off across Columbus Drive and was heading for the city proper.
Following, Neil muttered, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Into traffic.
Wainwright charged through a line of cars. Horns blared and his horse jumped to the side and fought him, but the man knew his stuff. He had the pinto back under control in seconds and was dodging him between cars.
Crossing over a bridge, Neil was stopped by traffic. Wainwright had been foolhardy enough to dash through the intersection anyway to the accompaniment of much honking, and the gap between them widened. Ahead, the stockman now passed between two bronze statues of mounted Indians with bows and arrows.
Surreal, Neil thought.
The statues…the cars…the skyscrapers…two horses and riders in the midst of it all.
Make that four.
From the corner of his eye, he saw two uniformed men on horseback picking their way from Columbus Drive between cars. Part of the Chicago Police Department mounted patrol, they were heading straight for him.
When the light changed, Neil charged out through the intersection. Wainwright was caught up ahead in the congestion at Michigan Avenue. A policeman directing traffic was yelling and coming at him.
“Whoa, cowboy!” one of the mounted cops yelled at Neil.
Neil yelled back, “Join the posse!”
“Stop, now!”
Certain he would be able to narrow the gap, Neil ignored the command. Ahead, Wainwright rounded the corner. Spotting Neil, the traffic cop blew his whistle and tried to step in front of him. Neil dodged the cop and went after the stockman, straight down Michigan Avenue.
Cowboy Protector Page 18
