Night Thunder

by Jill Gregory

  “What about it?” she asked, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “I noticed it earlier. It appeared to be following us briefly—then disappeared. Now it’s back. Could be Dolph or one of his friends.”

  “Do you really think so?” Her breath caught in her throat. Now she’d put Ty in danger. And if they were being followed, they were leading Ricky’s enemies straight to him.

  “Can you lose it?”

  “We’re about to find out.”

  Ty twisted the wheel and the car veered off the main road onto a gravel path. The cruiser jolted over the rough road, flanked on either side by stands of lodgepole pines.

  “We’ve got time to kill, so let’s take the back roads for a while. This will take us to Bitter Gulch—we can get lunch there and switch cars.”

  “How are you going to manage that?”

  He pulled out his cell phone and shot her a grim smile. “Watch and learn.”

  An hour later the car bumped onto a narrow paved road. Soon she saw a weatherbeaten wooden sign that read Welcome to Bitter Gulch.

  “Talk about off the beaten path,” she murmured. “This town looks smaller than Thunder Creek.”

  “It is, by about a hundred people. They’ve got a nice little diner here, though. Not as good as Bessie’s place, but we can get a decent burger.”

  A burger sounded wonderful. Josy had barely even sipped her coffee this morning. Her appetite was coming back, especially since they hadn’t seen or heard the helicopter again since they’d turned off the highway.

  “I’m so hungry I just might eat two burgers,” she muttered.

  “Nothing like a woman with a healthy appetite.”

  She spoke lightly. “Ah, so that’s what you like in a woman.”

  Without turning her head, she could sense his glance shifting to her. “Among other things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, soft blonde hair.” He shot her a smile, and her stupid heart fluttered like a butterfly on speed. “Beautiful green eyes. And, oh yeah, the softest lips in the West.”

  She smiled back, some of the tension ebbing from her. “Oh, really,” she drawled.

  “Yep. And don’t forget a talent for getting mixed up in more trouble than she can handle.”

  “Some of us are just born lucky.” Deliberately, she kept her tone light and flip. “There’s one more thing I think you neglected to mention. Knowing how to keep things uncomplicated.”

  “That helps.” There was a short silence and then he added, “Uncomplicated works for me.”

  Sure it does. Heaven forbid anyone should actually fall in love with you, or take those heart-wrenching kisses seriously.

  “Me too. My last relationship was a mess. I learned my lesson.”

  “Are we talking about the cop who was your ex-boyfriend?”

  Ty was surprised by the stab of jealousy he felt at the mental image of Josy with another man. He didn’t like the picture it made in his head. Not one bit.

  “He wasn’t a cop. I just told you that to cover up how alarmed I was when I found out you were a cop,” she explained.

  Ty didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She knew what he was thinking.

  So many lies.

  How had she ever—even for a moment—thought anything beyond the most casual of affairs would be possible with a man she had lied to about almost every aspect of her life?

  “He’s an investment banker,” she hurried on. “A married investment banker.” She turned her head away from him, staring out the passenger window. “I had no idea. When we met he told me he was single.”

  Okay, the jealousy was gone. Now he just felt angry. “It must have been rough on you when you found out.”

  “I was in shock.” She didn’t know why she was opening up to him. Or why he would believe a word she said after all the lies. But somehow the words began pouring out. “I never would have guessed he was such a lying bastard. He said he traveled for his job and worked a lot of nights and weekends, schmoozing clients and CEOs. At least that’s what I thought. He managed to squeeze me in a few times a week. We had a lot of nice romantic dinners, and rented movies at my place. Once we even went away to Puerto Rico for a weekend. I found out later that he’d told his wife he was at an investment symposium in Miami.”

  She sounded bitter. Ty could hear the brittleness in her voice, even though she struggled to keep her tone even. He parked on a small side street alongside the Country Goose Diner. “You must have gone through hell when you learned the truth.”

  “I did. I hated the idea that he was hurting his wife and his children. The worst part was that he’d tricked me into hurting them too. I felt like . . . like a total sleazebag.”

  “That’s crazy,” Ty said sharply. “He’s the sleazebag, Josy, not you.” He shut off the engine and turned toward her.

  “You’re anything but that. And you deserved a hell of a lot better than what that asshole did to you.”

  For some absurd reason, tears threatened. She blinked them back. “I grew up with secondhand clothes, secondhand schoolbooks,” she said quietly. “I’ve always hated anything secondhand. But that’s how Doug made me feel once I learned the truth. I didn’t come first with him—and neither did his wife. He came first. His own selfish, immature whims.”

  She met Ty’s gaze squarely, speaking past the lump in her throat. “I won’t ever be someone’s secondhand woman. Second choice, second best. I won’t do that to myself—not for any man.”

  Her eyes sought his, and they were filled with regret— and determination. “I thought Doug loved me, that we were building something solid and good together, but it was all a lie. And I swore after I found out that I’d never let anyone use me again. I won’t be a substitute wife or girlfriend. It’s first choice, or bust. I owe myself that, Ty.”

  Her words hit him like a barrage of rocks. He stared at her, his gaze narrowed. “You think that’s what I did last night? That I used you . . . as a substitute for my wife?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” She shook her head as pain squeezed her heart. She couldn’t let him see how stupid she’d been. He hadn’t used her—what had happened between them had been real and powerful. But not powerful enough. He didn’t love her. He still loved Meg. He’d always love Meg. And she’d known that all along.

  “I think you enjoyed last night every bit as much as I did.” She forced herself to speak lightly. To smile. “It was wonderful. But we both knew going in that there couldn’t ever be anything more. I’ve known from the beginning that you’ve never gotten over your wife’s death. Corinne told me that the first night at the Tumbleweed. So last night—well, don’t worry about it.” She shrugged. “No complications. No strings. End of story.”

  Even as she said the words, she wished to heaven they were true. Yes, she’d known the situation going in—but she’d forgotten it every time Ty Barclay touched her, kissed her. She’d forgotten as soon as his hands stroked her skin, as soon as his lips took her to that hot, delicious place where common sense floated away. Somehow during these past few weeks in Thunder Creek, her heart had started responding to Ty Barclay as much as her body had. She’d opened herself up to feeling much more for him than mere attraction.

  She’d been idiotic enough to fall in love with him.

  “Once this business is cleared up, assuming we get out of it alive, I’m going back to Manhattan.” She spoke matter-of-factly, praying he hadn’t detected the slight tremble in her voice. “And you’re staying in Thunder Creek. But I’ll never have any regrets about last night.”

  “That’s damned comforting,” he growled. His eyes had turned a dark, dangerous blue.

  “What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be relieved.”

  “I am. Can’t you tell? Let’s get some lunch.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re angry.”

  “Why should I be? But let me get this straight, you’re saying essentially that last night meant nothing to you. Have I go
t that right?”

  “Last night was unforgettable,” she said simply. So unforgettable that her chest was tight and she was afraid any moment that she’d start to cry. She touched his hand, lightly, then pulled back.

  “And I’ll always be glad for it, even when I’m back in Manhattan charging through the rat race and you’re here catching the bad guys. But I knew it was only one night. And so did you.”

  He stared at her, scowling. “Yeah. I knew you’d be going back—as soon as this deal is over.” He was reminding himself, he realized, more than her. He knew he should be relieved, but instead, he felt irritated as hell.

  “Assuming you don’t end up in Sing Sing.” He opened the car door abruptly. “Let’s eat, we don’t have all day. I want to be ready to roll as soon as Roy gets here.”

  They didn’t talk much over lunch. Ty’s mood had done a 180. She wasn’t sure exactly why. They lingered in silence over their coffee, killing time until they could switch cars. Josy kept glancing at her watch. Not long now and she’d be meeting Ricky. If, she told herself, nothing—and no one—got in the way.

  It was another half hour before Roy arrived. He sauntered into the Country Goose Diner carrying a duffel bag.

  “Here you go. Got some bottles of spring water in there, and a few beers, like you asked. And some ammo and grub. What’s this all about? Who’s following you in a copter?” he asked as he dropped into a seat next to Josy and directed his question to Ty.

  Ty gave him no details. But he warned Roy to keep to the back roads on his way home to Thunder Creek and not to tell anyone what was going on.

  “No problem, but are you two okay?” Roy turned to Josy, studying her in concern. “What in hell has my cousin got you involved in?”

  “It’s what I’ve got him involved in.” Josy managed a wan smile. “Ty’s taking good care of me.”

  “He’d better. Corinne wants the two of you at the wedding—and I don’t want anything upsetting my bride.” Despite his casual tone, there was a worried frown between Roy’s brows. “Hey, cuz, want me to hang around, come with you . . . wherever you’re going? I’m not a cop, but I watch them on TV. I know how to do backup.”

  “No, thanks, Roy. Not necessary.” Ty hoped to hell he was right. He drew out his wallet to pay the lunch check. “Letting me use your car is a big help. Keeping your mouth shut about this is even bigger.”

  “I hear you. Lips are sealed.”

  “Thanks. All right, I need to make a pit stop,” Ty said, after paying the waitress for their lunch. “Roy, wait here with Josy, will you?”

  “No need,” Josy said, realizing that a restroom visit was probably a good idea. She slipped out of her seat and headed toward the ladies’ room. There she took deep breaths, suddenly feeling that the hamburger she’d devoured was corroding her stomach. She needed to splash some water on her face, put on lipstick, calm herself down. This day was only in the early stages—she still had a long way to go.

  By the time she came out, Ty and Roy were already waiting outside. Roy handed Ty the keys to his white Ford Ranger and then gave her a hug before heading to Ty’s car.

  “Whatever’s going on, you two stay safe.”

  He shot Ty a speaking glance and walked away.

  The moment he left them, Ty took the brown-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and transferred it into the duffel bag, which he stuffed on the floor near Josy’s feet.

  Time for the last leg of the journey.

  A light rain began to fall as they swung back onto the main highway and headed toward the huge area of protected land known as Medicine Bow National Forest. They saw a helicopter in the distance, but it never turned their way, instead disappearing to the south.

  No one appeared to be following them, though a motorcycle did pass them once, the burly young driver glancing over momentarily before he roared on ahead.

  Ty’s mouth thinned into a hard line, but he said nothing, and Josy tried to relax back in her seat.

  But that proved more impossible as each mile flashed by. She didn’t know what the next few hours would bring, and after last night, she knew that Dolph was capable of anything. Anything at all.

  “That’s Laramie Peak up ahead. We can only take the car so far—up to a point near the campgrounds. Then we’ll have to hike it.”

  “Well, so will anyone else trying to get their hands on the diamond—and on Ricky,” she said. She was staring at the sloping, pine-covered mountains, silhouetted against the murky sky. On a clear day, the view would have been breathtaking. Even today, with the sky wet and gray and a heaviness hanging in the pine-scented air, Laramie Peak was magnificent.

  But she forgot all about the view and everything else when her cell phone rang. Josy jumped, then grabbed it from her handbag.

  “It’s me,” Ricky said curtly. “Change of plans.”

  “But we’re almost—”

  “We?”

  “I’m bringing a friend with me. Someone I trust.”

  “Goddammit, Josy—”

  “Last night I was attacked, Ricky,” she interrupted him. “And now they’re after me—”

  “Shit! Sorry, Josy. Did they hurt you? You all right?”

  “Yes, thanks to my friend—”

  “Listen, this is all the more reason to switch our plan around. Forget Laramie Peak. Right now, head to Wheatland. There’s a bar a quarter mile outside of town. Slattery’s Saloon. I’ll come to you.”

  He hung up without waiting for her reply. Feeling chilled, Josy looked at Ty. “Change of plans.”

  “I expected as much,” Ty said drily. “That happens a lot when guys are on the run, afraid for their lives. A moving target, constantly changing direction, going serpentine, is harder to hit. Where to?”

  She told him, and he grimaced, then did a U-turn toward the interstate.

  “Slattery’s Saloon, huh? That place is a big-time hang-out for drug dealers and degenerates. Nice friends you’ve got, Miz Warner.”

  Josy clenched her hands together. She was getting a very bad feeling about this. Ricky had been sounding less and less like himself each time she’d spoken to him.

  So much had happened in the past day. Suddenly she thought of Chance. He was in the hospital, recovering from a gunshot wound. And at least one of the rustlers was doing the same. And Ty could have been back in town, in the thick of the investigation, questioning his suspects, examining evidence. Instead he was here with her.

  Risking his life.

  She spoke suddenly. “Whatever happens today, I want you to know—” she began, but he interrupted her with a reckless grin.

  “Save it for my eulogy if I don’t make it out of Slattery’s Saloon alive.”

  Ty floored the car as they zoomed onto the interstate. As if to mock his words, the sun broke through the clouds with a burst of golden promise.

  Chapter 25

  SLATTERY’S SALOON WAS A LONG, LOW, RAMSHACKLE building that squatted at the edge of a weed-choked dirt field on the outskirts of Wheatland.

  There were only two cars parked outside, neither of which was a black Explorer like the one Dolph had been driving. So far, so good, Josy thought, as she got out of the pickup and watched Ty seize the duffel from the floor.

  They started toward the saloon in silence. The air was eerily quiet and heady with the scent of sage. The silence was broken only intermittently by the cry of hawks wheeling through the sky. But inside her head was a rush of sound—the roaring of her own blood in her ears. Now she was finally going to get some answers—and rid herself of the damned diamond.

  She only prayed she’d be able to persuade Ricky to let Ty help him, to turn himself in and work once again with the police.

  The saloon was dimly lit and there were only two other patrons. A husky kid of about eighteen chewing tobacco and playing pool, and a paunchy, sour-eyed cowboy in a plaid shirt and jeans straddling a stool at the bar. Ty led the way to a round table near the dartboard. It was a few feet from the restrooms and the rear exit,
and as Josy slipped into a chair, he took a seat facing the entrance, turning it slightly so he could also see the exit door.

  He set the duffel down beside him as a tough-looking waitress with spiky red-streaked hair strode over to the table.

  “Two Buds,” he said curtly, keeping an eye on the door.

  The waitress loped off.

  “Nervous?” Ty asked. But Josy never had a chance to answer him, because at that moment the door opened. She saw Ty’s gaze swivel to the entrance and turned her head in time to see Ricky slouch through the door.

  He spotted them immediately and moved toward their table. As he drew closer she felt a ping of shock. Ricky’s lean, sharp face was bruised—he had a black eye, and a nasty cut across his chin. He also walked with a limp, as if he’d been kicked in the kneecap.

  “Oh, God,” she murmured as he ambled up to her.

  “Hey, kiddo.” He managed a tired smile as he reached her and Josy launched herself out of her seat and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “You’re asking me that? Me?” A dry laugh. “I’m asking you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine—thanks to Ty. Ricky, what the hell is this all about?”

  “It’s about some nasty guys who tried to screw me. And I tried to screw them right back.” He answered in a low tone, speaking directly to her, ignoring the dark, strapping man sitting two feet away, watching him with cop’s eyes.

  “I never meant this to involve you. Things got royally screwed up, Josy, I swear. I’ll explain it all, but not now. Not here. I’ve gotta get outta here and so do you. Where’s the package?”

  “Not so fast, buddy.” Ty spoke up softly, but his voice was as cold and hard as a slab of granite.

  Ricky’s smile faded. He drew back from Josy and glared at the other man.

  “Who’s this guy, Jo-Jo?”

  “The name’s Ty Barclay.” Ty didn’t extend his hand. “Sheriff Barclay,” he added, watching the other man’s face.