by Rita Herron
Sadie shuddered. “But Lester was never arrested for the crime.”
“He would have been assigned a new parole officer.” Carter searched for more information. “Apparently all the parolees were questioned in the death.” He sighed in frustration. “Lester had an alibi.”
“People lie,” Sadie said matter-of-factly.
Carter nodded. “Yeah. And in the case of Dyer’s death, the cops had me in custody, so they didn’t look any further. They just locked me up and closed the case.”
“It’s not closed.” Sadie injected confidence into her voice. “We’ll find out the truth and clear your name, Carter.”
Carter’s chiseled face tensed with concern. “Even if you have to confront Lester?”
Sadie shuddered again, but forced her chin up, finally allowing her anger to override her fear. “Yes, Carter. If it’s the only way we’ll both be safe again, I’ll confront him.”
After all, Lester had used her mother’s life to force her into keeping silent, but her mother was gone now, and she was alone.
Jeff Lester had robbed five years from both her and Carter. And if he found her, he’d kill her. It was time for her to stand up to him and take charge of her own destiny.
And it was time to get justice for Carter.
That meant Lester had to pay.
CARTER WANTED TO DENY Sadie’s statement, but she was right. Lester was already on their tail. If they didn’t find him and expose his criminal actions, he’d wind up killing both of them.
Sadie sipped her coffee then stood. “There wasn’t much in the pantry, but I did find a couple of canned goods that haven’t expired. I’ll heat them up.”
“Thanks.” Carter gritted his teeth, grateful she wasn’t running from him this morning. “I’ll see what else I can dig up on Lester. If I can find the name of the person who gave Lester his alibi, maybe we can break his story. At least that will be something to give to the police if we’re caught.”
Sadie took another look at the photo of Lester, her dark eyes tormented, then she set her jaw as if gathering courage before she left the room. Admiration for her stirred deep in his gut.
He had immediately been drawn to her when he’d met her at the bar because of her exotic looks and sensuality.
And in prison, he’d hated her for her betrayal.
Now he knew the truth—that she had suffered as much as he had, that she had her own nightmares chasing her—he wanted to make it up to her for involving her in this mess.
If he hadn’t picked her up at the bar, Lester wouldn’t have threatened her to get to him.
He skimmed through two more articles until he discovered the information he needed. The name of Lester’s alibi. A woman named Loretta Swinson.
Knowing he needed help, he punched in Johnny’s number. Johnny had hired a P.I. for him before. Unfortunately the man had been murdered working his case.
Maybe Johnny knew another private investigator who could help.
Johnny answered on the third ring. “Brandon?”
“No, it’s me, Carter,” Carter said. “I’m using a phone Brandon gave me.”
“Good God, Carter, where the hell are you?”
Carter ran a hand through his hair. “It’s better you don’t know,” Carter said. “I don’t want to incriminate you and Brandon.”
“Dammit, Carter, it’s always been the three of us watching each other’s backs. Nothing’s changed.”
Emotions thickened Carter’s throat. “Yeah, but—”
“But nothing,” Johnny continued. “Brandon and Kim and I care about you. The last thing we want is to see the police put a bullet in you.”
Johnny’s words bolstered Carter’s resolve. “I have to clear myself,” Carter said, although he knew Johnny and Brandon couldn’t possibly understand his need for revenge.
Not just for himself, but now for Sadie.
Johnny muttered a string of expletives that could blister paint, then sighed heavily. “All right. What can I do to help?”
Carter explained about Sadie and Jeff Lester. “He’s been stalking her, threatening her, and he set me up,” Carter said. “I think he killed Dyer.”
“Sounds plausible,” Johnny said. “But you said he had an alibi.”
“Yeah, some woman named Loretta Swinson. I need to find out where she is and talk to her.”
“I’ll call the P.I. I used when Lucy was kidnapped,” Johnny said. “Maybe he can locate her.”
“See if he can get an address for Lester, too. He may or may not be staying in one place, but there might be something there to help the case.”
“Got it.” A tense pause followed. “Carter?”
Carter pinched the bridge of his nose, his friend’s voice reminding him of all he’d lost, and the rift that had nearly shattered their friendship. “Yeah?”
“Be careful, man,” Johnny said gruffly. “I don’t want to bury you. I want to see you come home.”
Carter chuckled. Johnny always had a flair with words. “That’s the plan.”
He disconnected, then stood and stretched and went to find Sadie. Staying at the Flagstone farm was a nice reprieve, but it wouldn’t last long.
Even though the police had already searched it, they could come back any minute.
He and Sadie had to be ready to run when they did.
SADIE HAD ALWAYS USED cooking to distract herself from problems.
Although nothing could totally make her forget her situation. Her mother had taught her how to make fresh corn cakes and cook over an open fire. She’d also shown her which herbs and plants to pick for healing potions and home remedies.
Now she wished she had access to that garden and the fresh herbs. Instead the cupboards were bare and she was hoping the bugs and rats hadn’t contaminated the little cornmeal left.
The fact that she was scrounging around in the cabinets of Carter’s father’s deserted farmhouse for food, listening for the sound of a police siren, and jumping at every screech of the wind or noise outside for fear it was Jeff Lester, drilled home the danger dogging her.
And that the man in the room next to her was wanted for murder.
An innocent man who stirred up primal feelings she could not allow herself to act upon.
Trembling at the reminder of his hands rubbing her back, she dumped cornmeal in the bowl and checked it for bugs, relieved that it appeared clean. Then she added water and stirred it to make a dough that she pressed into a thin tortilla. It wouldn’t be the best-tasting one she’d ever made, but it would help fill their stomachs. She fried the thin, flat shells, then opened the cans of corn, black beans and tomatoes she’d discovered in the pantry and filled the tortillas. Cilantro and spices and cheese would have made them better, but she had to work with what was here, and that wasn’t much.
She’d survived on less, though. And Carter’s comment about prison implied that he had, too.
By the time she’d heated the tortillas, Carter appeared, his coffee mug empty. “It smells good.”
Sadie shrugged. “It would have been better with fresh ingredients—”
“Hell, Sadie,” Carter said with a chuckle. “I’ve been eating prison slop for years. And we’re on the run. I didn’t expect you to cook for me, much less whip up a gourmet meal.”
A sharp pang stabbed at Sadie.
He deserved better.
His black T-shirt strained against the broad expanse of his chest as he settled down in the hard wooden chair. She poured him another cup of coffee, and his fingers brushed hers as she handed it to him. Their eyes locked.
A tingling sensation fluttered in her belly at the contact, the air around him breathing with masculinity. He looked like a renegade, dangerous and sexy, one that made her feel alive and yearn to be touched.
“Thanks, Sadie,” he said in a gruff tone. “I…I’m sorry you got caught up in this mess.”
Aching to touch him, Sadie offered him a tentative smile. “Let’s just concentrate on staying alive long enough to
expose Jeff Lester for the slimeball he is.”
Carter grinned, reminding her of the brooding, sexy man she’d met in the bar that night. He was the roughest, toughest-looking cowboy she’d ever laid eyes on, and she had wanted him with a fierceness that had obliterated her good sense.
Now his cheekbones were more hollow, almost gaunt, and scarred, the darkness in his eyes telling horror stories that she wasn’t sure she even wanted to hear.
A heartbeat of silence stretched between them, then he turned to his food and wolfed it down. Sadie joined him with another cup of coffee and managed to eat a few bites herself, although her stomach churned with nerves.
“I talked to my friend Johnny,” Carter said, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “He hired a P.I. to help me a while back.”
Hope rallied in Sadie’s chest. “What did he find?”
Carter’s look darkened. “He was murdered.”
Sadie choked on the coffee, coughing and spilling it on her hand. The hot liquid scalded her fingers, and Carter immediately reached for her and coaxed her to the sink. He turned on the cold water and held her fingers beneath it to soften the sting.
Sadie sucked air through her teeth to control the fear and panic. “Because he was looking for me?”
Carter’s feral gaze locked with hers. “I think so.”
Guilt assaulted her. How many people had to die to cover up Lester’s devious plan?
Her mind whirled with random pieces of the past few weeks. “Is that the reason you escaped?”
“One of them.” Carter lifted her hand to examine the burn and Sadie’s heart melted. He was so tender and seemed so concerned, yet she’d heard about the escape, that he had almost killed a guard.
“I didn’t plan the escape,” Carter said as if he had read her mind. “Two other prisoners did. But when that bus broke down and one of them uncuffed me, I had to go for it. I had to prove who framed me and killed the P.I. trying to help me or I’d die in prison and no one would ever know the truth.”
She started to pull her hand away, but Carter tightened his hold. “Sadie, I don’t know what you heard, but I didn’t shoot that guard. I tried to stop the other prisoner from killing him.”
Sadie’s chest heaved for air, and this time she did pull her hand from Carter’s. She wanted to believe and trust him. She wanted him to hold her and assure her everything was going to be all right.
But she’d seen too much evil in her life to believe that lie.
Neither of them might come out of this alive.
CARTER SEARCHED SADIE’S FACE, desperate for her to believe him. The entire world might think he was a damn liar, a cold-blooded, calculated murderer, but he didn’t want Sadie to think badly of him.
He wanted her to look at him the way she had when they’d first met—as if she could see beneath the surface of his bad-boy exterior and find the good man inside.
Suddenly the sound of a helicopter broke the silence, and his heart slammed against his ribs. Damn.
Sadie must have heard it, too, because her eyes widened, and she ran to the window and looked out. Carter slipped up behind her, peeled back the ratty curtain and studied the sky.
The rumbling sound grew louder, and he glanced to the east and spotted the bird soaring above the trees. Was it just a chopper on a routine trip to another part of Texas?
Or had the cops found them?
SADIE’S STOMACH PLUMMETED. She zeroed in on the side of the helicopter as it coasted over the tops of the trees coming closer. There wasn’t a logo, although it could be an undercover cop. Or Lester… “Is it a police chopper?” Sadie asked.
Carter grabbed her hand. “We’re not waiting around to find out. Come on, we have to get out of here.”
“Where are we going?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t know, but we can’t let them find us.” He dragged her through the kitchen, then paused at the back door and peeked outside through the foggy glass. He scanned both ways, and she clenched his hand, her heart pounding as she scanned the distance and listened for a police siren.
Instead, the whir of the helicopter grew louder.
“Stay low and let’s run for it.” He pulled her out the door and they crouched low, hugging the side of the house until they reached the edge. Then he gestured toward the barn where they’d hidden the truck, and they raced toward it. Carter opened the barn door, and she ran behind him and climbed in the truck.
“Duck down,” he ordered as he slammed his door and started the engine.
Sadie did as he said, trembling as he floored the engine and headed down the dirt road that wound through the property. Tall oaks, pines and mesquites swirled past, the truck bouncing over ruts and ridges in the gravel.
Seconds later, he swerved onto another side road that was even bumpier.
“Where are we going?” Sadie asked.
“There’s an old shack that’s torn down on the south end of the ranch and a mine. We’ll hide out there.”
Sadie braced herself as the truck ground the dirt and rocks, then looked up at the sun slanting through the window. It was daylight. The chopper could easily spot them.
“Did he see us?”
“I’m afraid so,” Carter said. “He turned this way.”
Fear clawed at Sadie. They couldn’t get caught now.
Carter swung the truck over a hill, then soared downward. The impact threw Sadie against the passenger-side door. Her shoulder slammed into it with such force that she had to stifle a moan, then he screeched to a stop.
When she sat up, she realized he’d sandwiched the truck between a cluster of mesquites. He climbed out and hurriedly plucked rotting pieces of wood from the torn-down shack and spread it around the truck. She jumped out and grabbed brush and limbs from the area and covered it.
The chopper roared closer, but Carter yanked her down a small incline, then dropped to his knees. “Come on.”
She fell to the ground and crawled inside the mine, trembling as the stench of a dead animal wafted around her. Her hands brushed over dirt and pebbles, then moss.
It was so dark she couldn’t see, though, and Carter paused to touch her hand. “We’ll hide in the corner behind that ledge.”
Sadie shivered as the cold emptiness of the interior engulfed her, and Carter led her into the darkness. They dropped to their knees and crawled along the ledge toward an indentation that had been carved from the stone walls, then burrowed back inside the narrow space behind an overhang of jagged rocks. The smell of wet, rotting moss permeated the air, and the edges of the stones were slick with moisture. Somewhere nearby she heard the trickle of water and wondered if there was an underground source, or if the cave had once been used for mining.
The sound of a bat screeching or maybe a rat cut into the silence, and Sadie searched the shadows, biting her lip to keep from crying out in revulsion.
Outside the sound of the helicopter zooming lower made her clench Carter’s arm.
“Be very quiet,” he whispered. “If they touch down, they’ll probably search the area.”
Nerves clawed at Sadie as he pulled her up against him, and she buried her head into his arms and prayed whoever it was didn’t find them.
She didn’t want to die or for them to go to jail, either.
Chapter Six
Carter wrapped his arms around Sadie, his heart hammering at the way she buried her head against him. He sensed her fear because it mirrored his own.
“Do you think it’s Lester?” Sadie asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” Carter said. “I doubt Lester owns a chopper.”
“But what if he’s not working alone?” Sadie suggested. “What if someone else hired him to do their dirty work?”
“Good point.” Carter pulled her closer. “You know, Sadie, you could go to the police and tell them what happened,” he murmured. “They could protect you.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” She clung to his arms. “For all I know, they wouldn’t believe me. They might think I
was working with Lester, just like they thought you were.”
True. “At least if they had you in custody, you’d be safe.”
“Would I?” Sadie pulled back to look at him. Her eyes were luminous pools, filled with turmoil and worry, and so damn beautiful that his heart stuttered. “You and I both know that if Lester wants me, he’ll find a way to track me down, no matter where I am.”
He couldn’t deny that possibility. Lester probably had friends on the inside and out, ones he could pay to come after her. And if Lester hadn’t killed Dyer, and the investigation led to a conspirator or something bigger, they might have more to worry about than Lester.
The roar of the helicopter cut him off from saying more, and she burrowed her head into his arms again as they listened to it dip lower. It zoomed along above them, dipping up then down between the pockets of trees, then the hum intensified, the sound indicating they were hovering, studying the area. Carter tightened his grip on her, moving them back as far into the crevice as possible. The drip, drip, drip of water punctuated the eerie silence, and wet moss dampened his back.
Carter held his breath as the chopper set down, and kept his eyes trained on the entrance of the cave as he and Sadie waited.
If the police found them, he’d go back and rot in jail. If they didn’t kill him first.
And what would happen to Sadie? Would the police believe her story and investigate? Or would they arrest her for aiding and abetting a wanted felon?
Seconds ticked by, dragging into agonizing minutes as they listened to the sounds outside. The blades of the chopper cutting through the air. Voices of men as they combed the woods. Pebbles skittered as someone crawled inside the cave. A flashlight panned the interior cutting across the stone walls and floor and sweeping toward the side of the mine where they were hiding. Footsteps echoed as the man paced the interior, searching.
The flashlight beam sliced the darkness near them, and Carter dropped his head against Sadie, his heart thundering as the man slanted the rays over the ledge. He held his body rigid, forcing himself to lie still, to shield Sadie, to muffle her soft gasp of fear with his body as she trembled against him.
