Chapter Five
Rory sat at his regular table at the Bar and Grill, listening and watching Missy perform. He’d done it so many times now, and she’d never missed a beat. Each song was performed in exactly the same way each night.
She gazed down at him and winked when the music paused between songs. As she always did, she turned her back to the audience for a few seconds while the music for the new song began. Then she spun around, holding the microphone to her mouth, ready to begin.
Rory could listen to her clear and beautiful voice all day long, every day of his life. He hoped and prayed he would.
The singing suddenly stopped. Missy just stared ahead and missed her cue. That was so not like her. She’d never missed a beat before.
She was staring toward the back of the room. Audience members were chatting between themselves, trying to work out what was going on.
Rory spun around in his chair to see what had distracted her. At the back of the room stood a man, every bit as tall as Rory, wearing an oilskin coat and cowboy hat, three-day growth on his face.
The stranger didn’t say a word, but Rory noticed what he was doing with his hands. He’d shaped his fingers into a gun and was pointing directly at Missy.
Rory was up and out of that chair quicker than a fox chasing a chicken, and was heading straight for the stranger. He knew everyone was watching, especially Missy, but he didn’t care.
No one threatened his girl.
As he ran, he heard the music start up again, and Missy started over, although her voice was shaking. The ultimate professional, always.
By the time he reached the entrance, the stranger was gone. Rory ran outside, looked up and down the street, but the man was no where to be seen.
Rory stood out on the sidewalk, shaking his head, wondering who the stranger was, and why he was threatening Missy.
He stood there for a good five minutes, watching, staring, hoping to spot the stranger. But it didn’t happen.
By the time he got back inside, Missy was on her break, and waiting at the table. Sitting calmly as though nothing had happened.
Rory strolled purposely toward the table and sat down. “What just happened?” He stared intently at her, waiting for a response.
She lowered her voice. “Not here. Not now.”
It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about it, but he was insistent. “I need to know,” he said, lowering his voice to match hers.
Missy took a long steadying breath, then licked her lips. “I promise I’ll tell you. But definitely not now.”
She stood, kissed him lightly, then went back on stage as if nothing had happened.
* * *
Missy had seen the stranger enter but hadn’t taken a lot of notice. There were always cowboys coming and going in this establishment. Some came purely to eat, some to drink, and others came to see her perform.
But this one was different. She’d known it the moment he strolled purposefully through that door.
His hat was low down on his head, and his head was down, as though he was looking for something on the ground.
Then he slowly lifted his head. As though he wanted her to see who it was she was dealing with. She saw his rough beard before anything else, but as soon as he lifted his head, she knew.
Knew she was in trouble. Real trouble.
His eyes bore into her. It felt like they burned her flesh, but she couldn’t run. She was obligated to keep performing. That’s what was important here.
It was more than obvious he wouldn’t do anything to her here. Not with all these burly cowboys around. They would come to her defence. She knew they would.
At least she hoped they would.
No, he wouldn’t try anything here. He’d wait until she left, hoping to catch her alone. But it wouldn’t happen because Rory was here, and would be with her when she left.
But would it be enough? She’d seen too much, and he had to eliminate her. He’d told her as much himself, but couldn’t get to her then. And that’s why she took it. What was inside the backpack.
It took all her concentration to continue the performance, but continue she did. And once she’d finished, she knew she would have to tell Rory.
Or run, and lose him forever.
* * *
Missy was apprehensive when she left the stage.
What was she going to tell Rory? Or more importantly, what was Rory going to say to her?
It was not the sort of thing that normally came up in conversation, and she wasn’t sure how to broach it.
She had already put off the conversation by going straight to her changing room, instead of Rory’s table.
And she made sure to take her time. She was going over in her mind what she would say. How much she would say.
She was still mulling it all over when she heard a tap on the door. “It’s me, Rory,” he said, and she sighed.
No more putting it off. Her cowboy wanted answers, and apparently wanted them now.
She opened the door gingerly.
“When were you going to tell me?” His voice was quiet as he pushed his way into her dressing room.
She stared at him for several minutes, then glanced at her boots, carefully studying them. After a while she quietly said, “Not sure.” She knew he wouldn’t be happy with that, so quickly added, “I didn’t want to put you in danger.”
He put his fingers under her chin and gently lifted her face so their eyes met. “Put me in danger? Darlin’ this is all about you. We have to keep you safe.” He pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. She suddenly felt safe, there in his arms.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” He didn’t yell, he didn’t accuse, he just asked her in such a way she felt compelled to tell him.
“I, um,” She wasn’t sure how to say it. “I guess I just have to blurt it out. I witnessed a murder, and I’ve been on the run ever since.” Tears began to form in her eyes. “I didn’t kill anyone, I promise. I happened to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”
He wiped the tears from her cheeks. “And the backpack?”
She sobbed, and the tears began to flow in full force. “I managed to get the gun. He was going to kill me too.”
He looked down at her with wide eyes. “Kill you?” He seemed shocked. More than shocked – appalled.
“Yeah nice, huh? So I grabbed the gun and ran away with it.” She reached up and wiped her tears away. “They’ll never find that gun, so they have no reason to kill me, right?” She gave him a tentative smile.
“Darlin’ I don’t think it works that way.” He rubbed his hands over her back, trying to comfort her as much as he could, given the circumstances. “It’s out where we picnicked, huh?” He looked at her with sad eyes. “Don’t stress, we’ve got this.”
He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling my brother Chase. He’s the Sheriff, he’ll know what to do.”
Missy grabbed for the phone. “No, no police! He’ll know you’re involved, and then you’ll be a target too.” She was devastated, and began to cry again. “I’m sorry, Rory. I didn’t mean to involve you. I was just going to hide out in River Valley, and disappear into the night after a while. But then I met you.” She stared into his eyes. “I couldn’t leave, because... because I fell in love with you.”
“I love you too, Darlin’ but had no idea you felt the same.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. Just then, Chase answered the phone. “We have a situation at the Bar and Grill. Can you come on over?” He looked down at her. His expression was reassuring. “Yeah now. It’s urgent. We’re in the dressing room out back.”
* * *
Missy had briefly met Chase before, out at the ranch. They day he’d accused her of being a killer. She’d been avoiding the law at all costs, but now she had no choice.
The cat was out of the bag.
“And this backpack, where is it now?” Chase looked just like his brother. Big and burly, and very, very handsome.
She wa
sn’t sure how much to tell him. Rory nodded at her, so she told him. “On Rory’s property.”
“On Rory’s property where? There are thousands of acres out there.” He was interrogating her like a criminal.
“I, I don’t know. Near some trees, close to a stream.” She looked to Rory. Maybe he knew?
Chase turned to his brother. “Any idea?” he asked.
“Sure do,” he said, rubbing his hands over Missy’s back. “About an hour by horse.”
Chase was relentless. He fired question after question at her until Rory put a halt to the interrogation.
“Enough!” he shouted at his brother. “We will go to the Sheriff’s office in the morning, and Missy can make a statement then.
His brother shook his head. “I don’t think you realize the gravity of this whole scenario,” he said. “Missy’s life is in grave danger. Seems to me, the real killer wants to silence her. Kill her.”
His eyes pierced her, daring her to disagree. “Well, darlin’ – would that be about right?”
Tears slowly rolled down her make-up covered face. She was beyond talking, and just nodded. Rory pulled her close to him. In the midst of this crisis, and her distress, she was right where she wanted to be right now; tucked herself into his chest.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Chase said. “I am going to call for two of my deputies to accompany you out to the ranch.”
Rory began to interrupt. “But…”
“No buts,” Chase intervened. “Missy’s life is in danger, and as much as you think you can protect her, this is way beyond that. There’s been an alert out on this case for months, but there were no leads, so it went nowhere.
I will have two deputies follow you home, and they will be replaced in the morning. Missy will be safe at all cost.”
Rory shook his head, but Missy knew he wouldn’t win. His brother was as stubborn as Rory. It must run in the family.
She stood up and stretched her hand toward Chase. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said quietly. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, and I finally feel completely safe.”
Chase looked to Rory, who didn’t appear at all happy.
“No offense,” Missy said. “I’ve felt safer with you than I’ve felt for ages. But I was still looking over my shoulder. You know?” She shrugged her shoulders.
He stepped forward and enveloped her in his arms once more. “I understand, darlin’ – it must have been awful for you.”
Just being in his arms made her feel safe. But now she knew the boogey man was going to finally be dealt with.
“Tomorrow we do a photo composite. You do know what he looks like, right?”
Missy nodded. “Sure do. Worked with him for years. Then the mongrel tries to murder me!” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them break through.
She was over being weak. She’d been weak when she ran. She should have gone straight to the sherriff when it happened, but was terrified and couldn’t think straight.
There was so much she would have done differently, in hindsight.
Rory touched her shoulder as two deputies walked through the door. “Let’s go.”
She was introduced to the deputies, and given explicate instructions about staying inside once they got home. She was not to leave the house in the morning until the deputies told her it was safe to do so.
A shiver went down her spine. She knew it would eventually come to this, but didn’t think it would be so soon, or so intense when it happened.
They all walked to the entrance of the establishment, then Chase and the two deputies checked outside to make sure it was safe. Rory’s car was right out the front, and Missy was escorted there.
Chase waited with her until Rory was in his car, and the two deputies were in the patrol car ready to leave.
He tipped his hat to Missy as they drove off.
They drove home in silence, the patrol car right behind them.
* * *
Rory stood back as the deputies checked every room, and every possible hiding place. “I’ve never locked the doors, and never yet had anyone come in here,” he said gruffly.
“This is a whole different situation, Rory, and you know it,” one of the deputies told him. “We all want Missy – and you – to be safe.”
“All clear,” the other deputy announced. “We’ll be right outside if you need us,” he said.
That was pretty stupid, Rory decided. When they could be inside, in a nice warm house instead of freezing their butts off outside.
He shrugged his shoulders. He’d already had that conversation. Didn’t make a heap of sense to him, but it was their decision.
Missy put on the kettle and pulled four mugs out of the cupboard. She made coffee for everyone, and pulled some blueberry muffins out of a tin. She’d made them earlier in the day, so they were nice and fresh.
“You’re not going anywhere until you’ve had supper,” she announced. The deputies didn’t disagree, but Rory knew they would have refused if Chase had been around.
They sat around the kitchen table drinking their coffee and eating their muffins, but no one said a word. Both deputies faced the windows so they could see outside.
When it was time for bed, Missy was reluctant. “What if he comes around and harms the deputies,” she argued. “It will be my fault.” She put her hands to her face and began to cry.
Rory had never seen her so despondent. Why hadn’t she told him what was going on? That she was in imminent danger and could be murdered.
A tingle went down his spine at the mere thought. He’d worried about losing her almost from the day they’d met, but this was a different kind of worry. This was breaking his heart.
* * *
Missy sat opposite Sheriff Chase Callahan. She had trouble controlling her shaking.
Rory stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. This is the easy part. Isn’t it?” He directed the last question to his brother.
Chase was very non-committal. “Maybe.”
He flicked through some papers on his desk. “It says here that shots were heard, then you were seen leaving the scene of the crime.” His eyes pierced her.
She licked her lips and looked up into Rory’s face, then turned toward Chase. “That’s right,” she said defiantly. “That all you’ve got on me?”
Chase’s eyes turned toward his brother. It was as though he was asking, what have you done to me?
“When you find the backpack, you’ll know I didn’t do it,” she said, and crossed her arms across her chest.
Rory chuckled quietly. His strong little lady was back. He knew she was still lurking around somewhere.
“Uh,” Rory had never seen Chase lost for words before, so he was equally amused with this theatrical display that was playing out in front of him.
“Well, uh,” he continued to flick papers on his desk. “Maybe we’ll get the artist in here so we have an image of the guy.
Missy reached for her phone. “No need,” she said, flicking through the photos on her cell phone. “I have a photo of him in here.” She looked up at Chase. “We were friends,” she said, swallowing hard. “Real close friends at one time.” She reached over and handed him the cell phone.
“Oh. You were real close,” he announced. Her eyes darted toward Rory, and he wondered what was in the photos.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “We were to be married next year.” She fiddled with her hands in her lap. This had to be hard for her.
“How long had you known him?”
It was a straightforward question, but Missy hesitated momentarily. “Uh,” She looked down into her lap. “Years,” she said, still looking downward. “We were at school together. Then we joined the Rodeo at the same time. His name is Josh. Josh Hayden.” She lowered her voice even more. “I still can’t believe he wants me dead.” She wiped a stray tear from her face. “We were going to have babies together. I thought we were in love.”
Rory moved clo
ser. “What sort of dirt bag is this mongrel?”
It was more a statement than a question, but Missy answered him anyway. “That’s the thing, he wasn’t. He was a loving and caring man. I’ve never even seen him get into an argument, let alone a fight.” She swiped at her face again. “And then this! How could he?”
It was a valid question, but not one Rory could answer. He’d like to know too. Especially the bit about trying to kill his fiancée. Especially the part where he put a gun to her head and tried to shoot her.
Indeed, how could he?
* * *
After their interview at the Sheriff’s office, they all headed out to Rory’s property where they would endeavor to find the buried backpack.
He knew the vicinity in which he expected it to be, but couldn’t pinpoint the exact spot. Missy had been gone for over fifteen minutes when they picnicked, so she could have gone wandering to find the ‘perfect spot’. He sighed.
What had she done?
It was not going to be an easy task – for any of them. They had the Sheriff’s Office off-roaders and some shovels. And plenty of water.
Rory headed the convoy out to where they’d had their picnic only days before. He still couldn’t believe Missy’s secret was such a big one. That the gun she was almost killed with, was in that bag.
The damn thing could have gone off and killed her at any time. Or killed someone else. If only she’d felt she could trust him enough to tell him what she’d endured. What was playing on her mind.
But he also understood it would be hard to trust anyone. What she’d endured didn’t bear thinking about. It took another piece of his heart every time he did.
He glanced across at her. What was she thinking? Her heart must be breaking at the thought of the person who you thought loved you the most in the world, was the same person who wanted you dead more than anything else.
He reached across and put one of his hands over hers. He smiled tentatively. Her lips barely moved.
The Cowboy's Sweetheart Page 5
