Wild at Heart

by Jane Graves

  By the time Val reached his car, his heart was whacking his chest like machine-gun fire. Before it occurred to him that maybe he should lock the door until he assessed the situation more completely, she yanked it open and leaped into the passenger seat. He recoiled, pressing himself against the driver’s door, mentally crossing himself and hoping what came next would only make him look stupid and not dead.

  “Stanley!” Val said. “I thought you’d never get here!”

  In one smooth swoop, she reached over, took his face in her hands, and gave him a smack right on the lips.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” She settled back and reached for her seat belt. “Take a left as you leave the cabins and go west. The ranch is about ten miles from here.”

  For a few seconds, Stanley just stared at her. He didn’t understand everything that was going on here. The only thing he knew for certain was that real fugitives didn’t kiss deputy sheriffs.

  “I still don’t get it,” he said, still a little wary. “Where are we going? And why?”

  “I’ll fill you in on the way. But remember, Stanley. Even though Alex acted like a jerk out on the highway yesterday, if he’d been the murderer you thought he was, he wouldn’t have let you go at all. He’d have shot you and left you for dead. You know that, don’t you?”

  Stanley had definitely wondered why a heartless murderer like DeMarco had let him live. And how a nice lady like Val had ended up with a guy like him. It didn’t make sense. From the way she and DeMarco had gone at it on the dance floor at the Founder’s Day Celebration, he knew just what kind of relationship they had. Hell, the whole town knew. And he had to think that a nice, smart lady like Val couldn’t possibly make such a big mistake when it came to picking a man as to end up in the company of a killer.

  “Yes,” he told her. “I know. I believe you.”

  “Okay, then. Step on it!”

  Stanley did a turnabout, then gunned the engine and roared up the main road of the cabin complex. When he reached the exit, he did a tire-squealing turn onto Highway 4.

  “What about backup?” Stanley said. “Do we need reinforcements?”

  “Not yet. I haven’t got enough for you to arrest this guy right now. The most important thing is to get to Alex and warn him. Tell him who the real killer is. Then we can go from there.”

  Stanley floored the gas pedal and reached sixty in record time, feeling like Dirty Harry, James Bond, and Mad Max all rolled into one. For once in his dull, boring life, his body hummed with excitement. There was nothing like driving hard to really get a man’s blood rushing.

  “I don’t know what’s going on out there,” Val said, a worried note in her voice. “It could get dangerous.”

  Stanley’s blood slowed considerably. He liked feeling danger, but he wasn’t completely sure he liked living it.

  Tonight it didn’t look as if he was going to have a choice.

  Alex stood in the breezeway of the horse barn, absolutely certain that Murdock intended to make this his last night on earth.

  The man had bound his wrists, tied them with a long rope, then thrown that rope over one of the rafters of the horse barn and yanked his arms over his head. Then he secured the end of the rope before leaving the barn and walking back to the house.

  What in God’s name was he up to?

  Alex leaned back against the wall of the barn, the rope cutting into his wrists, his arms aching as if they were being ripped from their sockets. The night was unforgivably hot and humid, and the odor of the incinerated hay barn still filled the air. Sweat poured down his forehead, and he had to swipe his face against his arm to keep it out of his eyes. Down the breezeway of the barn, he heard the steady swish of a horse’s tail, swatting at flies.

  The barn was dark, with only the light from the floodlights outside to provide illumination. He had no idea why Murdock hadn’t turned on the lights. Maybe because even though they were miles away from the rest of humanity, he thought it best to commit murder under the cover of darkness.

  He heard the glass door of the ranch house open and close. He leaned over and could see Murdock making his way up the path. He came inside the barn, sat down on a bale of hay near Alex, and cracked open a beer. That was what he’d gone back to the house for?

  He took a long drink, then rested his back against a stall door, holding the beer in one hand and a rifle in the crook of his other arm.

  “Man, there is nothing like a cold beer on a hot night,” he said. “It’s one of those things you miss the most when you’re in prison. Drugs you can get. But a cold one? Nope.”

  Alex couldn’t believe this. The man was sipping a beer as if he were watching a ball game.

  “What are you waiting for, Murdock? Why don’t you just shoot me and get it over with?”

  “You know, that’s what I’d planned to do, at least for the first couple of years I was in prison. But as time went on, I pictured putting a bullet through your head, and I thought, you know, one shot and it’s over. Oh, there might be a split second in there when you think, ‘Shit, I’m done for now,’ but all in all it’s a pretty quick and painless way to go. Nothing like six years of hell in a shitty prison cell. Then one day I thought to myself, if that son of a bitch could only be living my life right now, he’d regret the day he put me in here. So I decided I wanted to make that happen. But now you’ve cheated me out of the pleasure of picturing you in prison: watching your back twenty-four hours a day and praying you don’t catch the eye of some sicko who decides to make you his girlfriend.” He took another long swig of beer. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to have to kill you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to make it quick and painless. I just haven’t quite figured out the best way to make it slow and excruciating.”

  He settled back against the wall of the barn, resting the beer against his knee.

  “But it’ll come to me,” he said. “Believe me. It’ll come.”

  Val led Stanley along the dark path through the Reichert ranch, holding his flashlight low as they drew closer to the house. She’d been both elated and apprehensive that they’d found her van in the same place where she and Alex had hidden it yesterday. It meant he was somewhere on the ranch, but where?

  She wished she could have gotten Alex to answer his phone. She’d tried three times since they’d left the cabin and gotten his voice mail every time. And by the time they got to the ranch, she was having trouble even picking up a signal.

  They reached the tiger enclosure, and Val led Stanley west around it. The tiger greeted them along the fence with a throaty growl, and Val thought Stanley was going to jump right out of his skin.

  “That’s a tiger!” he exclaimed. “What the hell …?”

  “It’s a long story,” Val said. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  Stanley gave her a panicked “What have I gotten myself into?” look, and she wondered if she’d done the right thing by bringing him along. Maybe she should have left him in his car until she returned with Alex. As much as she liked Stanley, she had to admit that his policing skills left a little bit to be desired.

  Soon they reached the clearing where the ranch house stood. Val scanned the area. The cabins were dark. Evidently the hunting party had gone home. She saw only one light on in the back of the house. Looking at the driveway, she saw no cars. The only vehicle in the vicinity was a pickup truck behind where the hay barn used to be, its driver’s-side window missing.

  Was Reichert still here? Rick? She didn’t know.

  “Look at that,” Stanley said, pointing to the burned-out hay barn. “What do you suppose happened there?”

  “Another long story,” Val said, looking around nervously. “I don’t see Alex. But he has to be here somewhere.”

  Val’s anxiety escalated with every breath she took. It was so quiet here tonight that she imagined she’d be able to hear Alex’s footsteps if he was anywhere around, but she heard nothing. Saw nothing.

>   Where was he?

  Then she glanced across the clearing to the breezeway of the horse barn, and what she saw made her heart stop.

  Alex. Oh, God. No.

  For a moment she just stood there, paralyzed. The floodlights outside the barn were shining just brightly enough that she could see the outline of his body, his arms tied over his head.

  “Stanley,” she whispered. “There he is! There’s Alex!”

  Stanley whipped around, his eyes growing wide. “Oh, my God.” He swallowed hard. “Where’s the bad guy?”

  “I don’t see him. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t in that barn.” Forcing back a swell of panic, she grabbed Stanley’s arm. “Go back to your car. Radio for help.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get closer. Try to free Alex.”

  “No! I c-can’t let you do that!”

  “What?”

  “That’s—” He took a deep, shaky breath. “That’s my job.”

  Maybe, but given the way he was trembling right now, she knew he’d be more of a hindrance than a help, and she certainly couldn’t afford that now.

  “Stanley, please go radio for backup. Please.”

  “Only if you promise to stay right here.”

  “I can’t! He’s going to kill Alex!”

  “And if that guy gets ahold of you, he’ll kill you, too!”

  Val opened her mouth to argue again, then thought better of it. “Okay, Stanley. Maybe you’re right. It would be too dangerous for me to go in there by myself. I’ll stay right here and keep an eye on the situation. Just get somebody out here. Anyone with a badge and a gun. And hurry!”

  Stanley gave her a quick nod, then ran back through the trees. Val glanced back at Alex. She couldn’t imagine what Rick must have done to get the drop on him, but from the way he was bound right now, it was clear the man had no intention of letting him walk away alive.

  The barn was dark. Was Rick in there? Or had he left Alex there and returned to the house? She had no way of knowing.

  If the hay barn were still there, she could have used it for cover to get closer. As it was now, she’d have to circle the edge of the clearing, come up beside the ranch house, and use that as a vantage point to get a better view inside the breezeway of the barn. If she didn’t see Rick, she could check out the house to see if he was inside. What she’d do after that, she didn’t know.

  A wild flurry of emotions raced through her. Love for Alex. Hatred for Rick. Fear that she wasn’t going to do the right thing. She put a hand against her chest, wishing she could slow her racing heart. Nothing was certain here. She’d have to play it by ear. And the thought of that scared her to death.

  She’d lived her whole adult life that way—taking chances, playing the odds, tossing out the rule book and just winging it—and usually she came out on top. But the stakes had never been this high. The actions she took in the next few minutes could determine whether the man she loved lived or died.

  She took a deep breath, pulled out her weapon, and started toward the house.

  * * *

  Murdock ground out yet one more cigarette on the barn floor, then turned his gaze up to Alex.

  “Got a question for you, DeMarco. Do you like cats?”

  “Fuck you, Murdock.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.” He took another swig of beer. “You know, I’ve been sitting here racking my brain trying to arrive at a really creative way to kill you. Then all of a sudden I thought, ‘Uh-oh. I forgot to feed the tiger.’ ”

  Alex’s blood ran cold.

  “That’s right, DeMarco. A tiger. A big old Bengal tiger with a very bad attitude. It’ll be just you and him. You’re a big guy, but I gotta tell you—my money’s on the tiger. And what a hell of a spectator sport. Those Romans really knew what they were doing.” Murdock started to take another drink of beer. Then he froze, glancing out the door of the barn in the direction of the house. Slowly he lowered his beer again.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Alex turned his head, trying to see out the door. What was he looking at?

  Murdock picked up his rifle. “So she’s here after all.”

  Alex lurched forward as far as the ropes would allow and looked toward the house.

  Val. Oh, God. No.

  She had her weapon drawn and was peering carefully around the side of the house. Alex felt a flood of panic. He’d left her in that cabin so she’d be safe from all this. How had she gotten here? How?

  “You know that slow and excruciating thing?” Murdock said, raising his rifle until he had Val in his sights. “I think we can start it off right now.”

  “Val!” Alex shouted. “Look out!”

  She spun around at the sound of his voice. Murdock pulled the trigger. The bullet struck her, and Alex watched in horror as she crumpled to the ground.

  “Bull’s-eye,” Murdock said.

  chapter twenty-eight

  “Goddamn you!” Alex shouted. “You son of a bitch! You goddamned fucking son of a bitch!”

  “We don’t tolerate trespassers around here.”

  Murdock strode out of the barn, his rifle in the crook of his elbow.

  “Val!” Alex shouted. “Val!”

  His scream was strangled, pleading, filled with agony, willing her to get up. He kept screaming. She didn’t move. She lay on the ground on her side, her arms sprawled in front of her, the light of the floodlights casting a harsh shadow along her back. Her hair was fanned out on the ground around her head, and blood had formed a huge crimson stain on her chest.

  She lay still. Deathly still.

  Alex gritted his teeth and jerked madly on the rope that held his arms over his head. The rope ripped into his wrists, but still he tried to pull them free, yanking with every ounce of his strength.

  Why hadn’t she stayed away? Why?

  Murdock stopped and picked something up off the ground, and Alex realized he’d grabbed Val’s weapon. Then he walked over to where she lay. He stared down at her a moment, then pushed a booted foot against her back.

  Still Val didn’t move.

  Murdock shoved Val’s gun into the waistband of his jeans, then pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. He casually lit one, took a long drag, then started back toward the barn.

  Tears sprang to Alex’s eyes, and he bowed his head, pain and regret ripping through him. He yanked on the rope again, ignoring the ache in his wrists and the blood oozing down his arms, wanting desperately to get free so he could put his hands around that bastard’s neck and kill him, just as he’d killed Val.

  Murdock came back into the barn, tossed Val’s gun aside, then sat back down on the bale of hay again. “Well. It doesn’t look like she’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “You sadistic motherfucking bastard! Goddamn you!”

  Murdock took a long drag off his cigarette and blew out the smoke.

  “She knew something was up,” Alex said hotly. “Cops will be out here any minute!”

  “Nah. I don’t think so. If she had backup on the way, she wouldn’t have been poking around by herself.”

  Alex had a horrible feeling that he was right. Damn it. She couldn’t have known that he was in trouble. So what was she doing here?

  “In fact, with the two of you being fugitives and all, I’m betting nobody even knows you’re in this part of the state.” Murdock chuckled a little. “Murder doesn’t get much easier than this.”

  Alex narrowed his eyes, his vision growing blurry with sheer, hot anger. He wasn’t going down without a fight. He was going to take any opening, no matter how minuscule, to get his hands on Murdock. And he was going to kill him—as brutally as he’d killed Val, and with no remorse. Until this moment, he wasn’t sure he believed in a place where somebody would burn throughout eternity, but now he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that hell had to exist. Because nothing a mere mortal could do to this cold-blooded bastard would begin to make him pay for what he’d done to Val.

/>   Murdock took one last drag off his cigarette, then stood up, giving Alex a wicked smile. “It’s showtime.”

  He tossed the butt down and ground it out with the heel of his boot, then glanced out the doorway of the barn. Suddenly his body tensed, his eyes widening with surprise.

  “What the—” His gaze shifted back and forth. “Where the hell did she go?”

  Alex yanked against the ropes, leaning out to look toward the house.

  Val was gone.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes. It couldn’t be. Hope raced through him. She was alive. Alive.

  “There was blood everywhere,” Murdock said, panic edging into his voice. “I thought I got her square in the chest.”

  His gaze panned back and forth along the back of the house. Then Alex saw a shadow moving by a window, and he could barely breathe for the relief he felt. This game wasn’t over. Not yet.

  “She’s inside the house!” Murdock said.

  Alex knew if she could stay conscious long enough, she could get to a phone and call for help. But he knew he had to buy her some time. He had to keep Murdock out of there long enough for her to make a phone call.

  Hold on, sweetheart. Just hold on.

  “Hey, Murdock,” Alex said. “Any weapons inside that house?”

  Murdock whipped around, giving him a look that said there were.

  “I gotta tell you,” Alex went on. “She’s one hell of a shot.”

  “Then it’s time I finished her off, isn’t it?”

  “If you go into that house,” Alex said, “you’d better be prepared to get your head blown off.”

  Murdock paced to the door of the barn, tension lacing every stride. “She’s half-dead already. Even if she can find a gun, she won’t be able to pick it up, much less fire it.”

  “Don’t bank on it. I don’t care if she’s bleeding all over the floor, she’s still a crack shot. You, on the other hand, appear to need a little more time at the shooting range.”

  “Shit!” Murdock shouted. “The phone!”