Deception Road

by Peggy Staggs

  It wasn’t hate, it was revenge. I’d been stabbed in the back more than once, but Beth was the only person who actually hated me. The situation was simple in its complexity. After Soph and I had gone for our makeovers the first man who’d asked me out was the one scientist she’d been shamelessly pursuing for months. “She thought she had a good reason.” In fact, the scientist ended up marrying an accountant with large glasses and blond hair. The one who was always reading a romance novel. Maybe I should read some, after all, they were essentially about relationships. A subject I desperately needed help with.

  “Ensley, don’t you remember how we were together? Didn’t all those months mean anything to you? All those nights?”

  Guilt wasn’t going to work. “Things have changed. I’ve changed. I’m not going back to D. C. or JPL. Research is no longer my life. I like owning a bed and breakfast, and I’m happy.”

  He gave a frustrated sigh. “Trace. Don’t be a fool. He’s—” Don turned back to watch the snow as it covered the tire tracks. “He won’t protect you, you’ll only end up in more danger. I have the power to keep you safe. I love you. Come back with me.” In one swift motion, he unbuckled his seatbelt, flipped up the console, and slid over to me.

  He was on my side of the truck. Jack’s truck. His rough kiss stinging my lips as I struggled against him.

  He brushed his lips across my neck as I fought against him. No. Not this again. At least here he couldn’t pin me to the bed. I did have a few new moves that would send him to his side of the truck.

  I didn’t know how to find Jack on my own. “Don’t.” I despised the sensation of being powerless, trapped. I hated Don for making me feel this way again. “Stop it.” I struck him as hard as I could in the confined space.

  “Hitting me isn’t going to change things.”

  I needed him to concentrate on what we needed to do. “We can’t leave Jack out there helpless.”

  “Do you want to live in this hick-infested town where the most intellectual event is a barn dance? No plays, no concerts, no art galleries, only miles and miles of scrub, sand, and rocks all covered with snow. For what? A man who can’t offer you anything more than a second-rate existence. One who’ll tire of you and move on.” He put a few inches between us. “You’re not the kind of woman who can be happy with a small-town sheriff in a backwater town. You need me.”

  I pushed him back. “Not now.” Or ever. “There’s something much more important at stake right now—a man’s life.” I could almost hear Lacey say the same thing, “he’ll get tired of you...” Don’s face held alarming determination. Why was I so important to him? There were lots of women in D. C., who would be eager to be with him. I fought against his embrace. I knew of only one way to get a straight answer – ask a straight question. I swallowed hard and asked, “Why did you want me?”

  My question caught him off guard. He didn’t have a glib answer for me. He said, “What?”

  “You had to have a reason why you wanted me with you.”

  “I love you.”

  “You rarely told me how you felt about me. Tonight...today you’ve told me you loved me more than all the time we were together. Not even when we had sex, only when you asked me to marry you. So, again, why me?”

  He moved back and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. He was silent as if he were forming the answer he thought I wanted to hear. Leaning against the door, he said, “My mother abandoned me when I was eight. She ran off with a man who didn’t want kids.” He turned, so he didn’t have to look at me. “I spent the rest of my childhood in one foster home after another. When I was ten, I decided I wasn’t going to be a product of the system. From then on, I was at the top of my class. When I graduated from high school, I received a scholarship to college. I learned how to use people to make my life easier.” He faced me. “It’s worked for all these years. When I met you, I thought you’d be another conquest. Another beautiful woman in my bed. After a few months, I decided you’d make the perfect political wife.”

  I could see the struggle on his face and in the way his shoulders slumped. I knew this was as hard for him to say, as it was for me to hear. I hadn’t known anything about his past. Great. Now, I felt sorry for him.

  He bowed his head. “I was arrogant. I thought you were naive and I could get away with anything. Oh, I know you’re smart, but you’ve been sheltered. I know how your father and Stan protected you. I didn’t understand how special you were until you were gone.” He looked up sharply, “Give me another chance.”

  This was not the Don March I knew. The man beside me was humbled by his own actions. I wouldn’t, no, couldn’t be part of his life. “I’m not the person you want. I was never happy in your world of parties and politics.”

  “I need you.” He reached out to take my hand.

  I didn’t know what to say. He had to know I didn’t feel the same way. I snapped my seatbelt back on and scowled out at the wall of snow confining me. I needed to say something. “It’s after ten, we need to go check on Jane.” I was past asking nicely.

  »§«

  The morning sun still struggled to make its presence known. Overhead a blurry glow brightened a patch in the storm clouds. The windows were dark when we pulled up to the B&B.

  In the dining room, the faint light showed us a fallen Christmas tree, and the broken ornaments were scattered everywhere. “No. No. No. Jane?” I shouted. “Jane.”

  Silence flowed down the stairs and wrapped its chilling arms around me like a shroud.

  “Jane?” I felt the now all-too-familiar panic reach for me. “Jane?”

  “She isn’t here,” Don said.

  I stopped at the foot of the steps. “She has to be.”

  He’d pointed to the floor. “There’s water on the floor over here.” He stepped back and played the beam of his flashlight across the area. Someone came in with snow on their boots.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Why take Jane? She had nothing to do with what happened last fall,” I said.

  “Where would she hide something for you to find?” Don asked.

  “I don’t know.” My world was collapsing. The people in it stolen from me like an early frost takes the last flowers of summer. I felt a tear run down my face. Without these two-important people, how was I going to go on? Jane was the mother I’d always wanted. But Jack was...oh no. “It can’t be.” My words were swallowed by the raging storm in and around me.

  “Get a hold of yourself.” Don shot me an irritated glance.

  Cold fear swelled in my stomach. I wanted to find Jane, but I needed to find Jack. I could no longer compartmentalize events. Hurt and fear had slammed the door and locked it.

  “Look at me.” He tilted my face toward him. “Where would Jane hide something for you?”

  I stared at him dumbly as I felt every muscle in my neck and shoulders tighten.

  He shook me hard. “Listen to me. Where would she hide something?”

  Where? It would be someplace we’d... “Cookies.”

  “What?” He sounded as if he were sure I’d lost my mind.

  “By the cookies, we baked today,” I pulled free. “No. Yesterday.”

  In the kitchen, we found the broken red, green, and gold shards of the ceramic Christmas container mixed with crushed cookies. I stood paralyzed with the reality in front of me. Jack and now Jane ripped from me. I wanted the people responsible—I gasped—I wanted them dead.

  Don searched through the decorated treats and glass slivers spread like on the floor. There was nothing but broken reminders of what the day should have been. The cookies crunched beneath my boots as I bent down and picked up half of a frosted reindeer. The sprinkles were scraped away, and the sweet coating smeared. I held the broken treat in my hand. We should be arranging them on Jane’s Christmas plate. The one that lay empty on the center worktable. The ivory platter was rimmed in bright silver with tiny white snowflakes dotted beside the metallic stripe. I set the broken reindeer on the plate as if
it were the last morsel of food in the world. I touched the rim of the plate. As I did, it rocked out of balance.

  I tilted the platter up and saw the papers underneath.

  “Is that it?” He asked

  I unfolded the sheet of paper and focused on the words. Jack’s name, address, and his cell number. Below his was my information. Hastily scrawled across the bottom was a phone number. No name, only a number. “This only tells us they knew who we were and where to find us,” I said. Why did they have our phone numbers? The B&B, yes. Not my cell or Jack’s information. I paced into the dining room then back to the entry. “Wait, how did they get Jack’s cell number? I thought it was unavailable.” When I got a call from him, the display showed only T43-5 on the screen. Not his name, only the odd combination of a letter and numbers. The first time I’d called Jack I’d gotten a recorded message telling me the number was out of service. He’d had to do something special to his phone, so my call would go through.

  I stood there holding the note paralyzed as the gravity of the situation filtered through my faltering brain. I needed to tell Brad.

  “The people who took Trace have Jane,” Don said.

  I wrenched my attention from the note in my hand to the face of the man beside me. “You’re wrong.” Please, God, let him be mistaken. “Maybe Jane is at her house or mine.” I ran out the back door and across the parking area. All the time knowing we wouldn’t find her in either place.

  No one answered when I pounded on her door. I made my way to the path leading to Brique House. Here, under the trees, the snow wasn’t as deep. The boughs of the evergreens hold the snow until the weight overwhelms them. Then, the branches bend, and the snow slips to the ground with a slap. I fumbled with the key to my front door.

  Don reached around, took the key, and put it into the lock.

  I pushed open the door and stepped into the entry as the lights burst on. I pulled Jack’s cell phone from my pocket. “Service is back.”

  I dialed Brad. After I told him what we’d found, he was silent for a few seconds. “Read me the number they have down for Jack.”

  “It’s Jack’s,” I assured him, but I read it to him anyway. “How did they get it?”

  “Give me the number at the bottom.”

  I repeated it to him.

  “I’ll call you back.” He hung up. It was abrupt even for Brad. I figured someone’s Christmas Eve was going to be put on hold. Postponed was so much better than destroyed.

  “What did he say?” Don asked.

  “He said he’d call back.” I dialed again.

  “Who are you calling now?”

  “Jane.” I hoped against hope she was somewhere safe.

  It rang. I needed something to fall into place. I glanced around. My living room spread out before me, neat and orderly. The furniture wasn’t broken. The walls were free of blood stains. I ran my hand over the antique table behind the sofa.

  Finally, an answer. “Who is this?” a man’s voice demanded.

  “Is Jane there?”

  “Yes, we have her.”

  My turn. “Who is this?” I held my breath.

  “The people who are going to make Jack Trace pay.”

  I reached out for the back of a chair. I held on. “Let them go,” I ordered.

  Don leaned down and pried the phone away from my ear so he could hear.

  “The woman knows too much.”

  Don motioned for me to keep talking as he pulled out his phone.

  “What has the sheriff or Jane done to you?”

  “He has to pay. We want money.” This guy sounded like a sidekick from a bad ‘B’ movie.

  I felt relief flood through me. I’d assumed the bloody message on Jack’s wall meant they were going to make him pay with his life. But money I could come up with. The difficulty came with the blood on the note. Someone was injured. I knew it was Jack. “You have the money you took from the sheriff’s house.” I had no idea how much that was, but I figured a payoff to an informant would be substantial.

  “It’s not enough. We want more.” His words became rushed. “We want five million dollars. Then you can have what’s left of him.”

  What was left of him? What had they done? My flash of breathing room vanished. Again, I struggled to keep my emotions at bay. This time it wasn’t working. What would my dad do? I smiled. He’d be a hard ass. I could play Dad. After a cleansing breath, I took charge of the situation. I stood straight. “I won’t pay if either of them is harmed.” The strength in my voice surprised me.

  I heard a scuffle then a woman’s voice came on. “You will pay, or we’ll start sending pieces of them to you in five hours,” Mrs. Shaw screeched through the phone.

  Brad’s warning returned to me. “Dangerous—psychotic.” The little voice in my head cautioned me to remain calm. “You want five million? Correct?” I pushed my emotions back down and clutched at what was left of my fortitude. If I didn’t think about who they had and what they were doing to them, I could do this.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, we can make this work. First, I want proof of life for both of them. Then we’ll talk money. Do we understand each other?” She damn well better.

  “We’ll call you with instructions.” She hung up.

  The time on the cell phone read one o’clock. All this running from Spirit Springs to Mullen and out to the Jessen ranch had eaten up the morning. Now I had to figure out how to raise five million dollars before six o’clock tonight.

  Don shook his head. “There wasn’t enough time to trace it.”

  My breath came in rapid little gasps as I stood mute looking at the dark phone. Don reached for me, but I stepped away. I mentioned earlier I’m good in bad situations. When they’re over, I crash. Desperation remained with me. I didn’t have time to collapse.

  I knew Don was involved in this somehow. He put out a comforting hand. I grabbed it and pressed my fingernails into the fleshy part of his thumb. I’d never thought my medical training would be put to this use.

  “Ouch, damn it, Ensley.” He shook his hand to lessen the pain.

  “Stop putting your hands on me.” What was it with him? I couldn’t make it any clearer how I felt. “What are you fifteen? Why do you keep touching me? It isn’t helping anything.” My voice sounded forceful. “Knock it off.”

  “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “You should have thought about that months ago,” I said. “I’m not going through the list again. You know it as well, no, better than I do. Because I’m sure, there is more I haven’t heard about.” I stopped afraid I’d gone too far. If I had, I was on my own. For all the help Don had been, I figured it wouldn’t make much difference if he left.

  He turned his back. He stood silently with his head bowed. When he turned, his eyes were closed. I heard him sigh as he opened them and gazed down at his empty hands. “It’s unbearable seeing you with Trace. I don’t know what to say or do to make you understand how much I regret what I’ve done. I’ve never been in this position. I’ve never been in love before.”

  I could hear the remorse in his voice and see the regret on his face. It was too late. A tear rolled down my cheek. Part of it was pity for him and the rest was for the lives I needed so desperately to save. I’d spent my life blocking out the pain of severed relationships. Broken loves. First, Phillip in med school had proposed thinking I’d be a meal ticket for him and his girlfriend. Then Don had done essentially the same thing. They’d both made me feel as if I were a commodity to be traded for their benefit. Someone valued only as a means to an end and not for who she was.

  Jack was different. He hadn’t wanted anything more than me. “Right now, two lives depending on us. We’re their only hope. They have to be our priority.” Why did I have to keep reminding him of that fact?

  He nodded. “What did they say?” He indicated Jack’s phone.

  “They’re crazy.” I held up the cell. “They’re going to kill them both if I don’t give them five million dollars
.” Time for rational thinking. I fell back into my comfort zone. I organized my options in a form I could deal with—a list. “If I sell everything, cash out all my investments, take out a loan on the B&B, I can come up with the money. It’s going to take time. Time, I don’t have.” I put some distance between Don and me.

  “You’re going to sell everything? You...” His expression turned cruel and hard. “Did they say if they had the money I gave Trace?” His tone sounded calculating.

  I watched him as I said, “Yes. They want more. I can’t get it in the time they’ve given me.”

  Chapter Nine

  “We need to stall them. Tell them you have to wait for the banks to open on the twenty-sixth,” Don said.

  “First, I am not leaving them in the hands of those people. Brad said were crazy and worse, sadistic. Second, I don’t think they’ll wait.” My shoulder muscles had cramped into hard knots. “She wants the money by six tonight.” I glanced up at Don. “I can’t get it by then.”

  He began to pace. “There are two factions. One wants revenge on Trace, the other wants money. For now, the money people have held off the killers. It won’t last long.”

  “That’s the reason we can’t wait,” I said. There was a division. I’d heard it when Mrs. Shaw had wrestled the phone from the man who’d answered it. I knew the first voice wasn’t Mr. Shaw. These people were working at cross purposes. “Who are they?”

  Don stopped pacing. “One is local,” he muttered. “That has to be it. My intel was right.” He paused. “But why is he—?” Then as if he remembered I was there, he stopped.

  “You know who’s behind this.” When he didn’t appear to hear me, I shoved him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  He ignored me. “With the electricity on. We can call CSU and see what they’ve found.”

  I lifted Jack’s cell phone and stared at it. I could almost see it blink You’re running out of time. I had five hours to get the money and sort out what was really going on. I had to find them.