Shot Through the Heart (Crimson Romance)

by D'Ann Lindun

  “How could he do it, Derrick? Why did he have to take Julie’s life? And their baby?” She shook her head and covered her eyes with her hands. “My God.”

  “I don’t know.” He took her hands from her eyes. “Let’s get out of here.” Placing an arm around her shoulders, he led her out of the building and toward his truck.

  • • •

  As they started across the street, a sheriff’s SUV slowed, allowing them to cross. For a long minute, Laramie stood staring at it. The bright, midday sun glinted off the windshield, making it impossible for her to see who was driving. Her pulse hammered, and her breath came in short gasps. She didn’t realize she had dug her nails into Derrick’s arm until he said, “Laramie? It’s not him.”

  After they made it across the intersection, she watched as the driver pulled slowly by, trying to identify him. Although he stared at her, his face was shielded by dark sunglasses. One of the deputies. Her breathing eased. Not Lawrence, but had the deputy seemed malicious? She looked up at Derrick. “Did that seem odd to you?”

  “What?”

  “That cop being there right then? Could Lawrence have his men after us?” Paranoia was getting the best of her. But was it paranoia? Julie had tried to report Lawrence, and his team turned deaf ears on her pleas for help. Was it really so farfetched to wonder if they might be after her, too, now that Lawrence was a fugitive?

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” Derrick said. “They’ll have hell to pay if they try anything. I won’t be caught unawares twice.”

  “Me, either.”

  He opened the truck’s door and after the three dogs hopped into the backseat, she climbed inside. Making his way to the other side, he got in. “Are you sure you’re up to this? The cows can keep. Mrs. Quintana will understand when I tell her the reason.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You’ve already done so much for me, I can’t ask for more. I want to help you.” She remembered their talk about sleeping arrangements, and the heat under his shirtsleeve sent sparks through her.

  “Okay.” Their eyes met and held. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive.” She took her hand back with reluctance. But she didn’t have an excuse to keep touching him.

  Derrick started the truck and pulled into traffic. As they drove down Main Street, the deputy passed them, going the opposite direction. This time Laramie recognized him as Gabe Gonzalez, one of Lawrence’s top men. Was it her imagination, or did he stare at them from behind his dark sunglasses? She shivered in spite of the heat.

  “Know that guy?” Derrick’s question sounded casual enough, but a note of stress in his tone suggested tension.

  “No, not really. I mean I know who he is, but we’ve never socialized or anything.”

  She faced Derrick’s profile. His clenched jaw worked. “His name is Gabe, and he works for Lawrence.”

  “I wonder where the sheriff’s lurking.” Derrick glanced around, and Laramie followed his line of sight. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the Cliffside police Jeep as it paralleled them down the alley.

  “I don’t know, but there’s one of their vehicles.” Her voice shook. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He stepped on the gas and sped up, but soon slowed and turned into an old filling station. Giving Laramie an apologetic look, he said, “Sorry, but I have to fuel up.”

  While he filled the tank, she looked around. In the rearview mirror, she glimpsed the Jeep cross Main Street. Tense as a cat stalking prey, Laramie stared in the mirror as the vehicle slid out of the alley behind the gas station. Desperately, she tried to signal Derrick with her eyes, but busy concentrating on the gas pump, he didn’t look up.

  Giving her a reassuring smile, he headed into the building to pay before she could let him know what she saw.

  When the Jeep pulled up in front of the truck, blocking them, Laramie fought the urge to grab the rifle. When the deputy came to the door, she forced a smile. “Hello, Gabe.”

  Zephyr growled, and Laramie placed a hand on her head.

  Gabe didn’t return the smile. Or remove his dark glasses. She could see her own reflection in them. “Miss Porter.”

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “Have you seen Lawrence?” he countered.

  An involuntary shiver ran down her back. “No. Why?”

  “His wife is dead.”

  His unemotional tone brought a rush of tears to her eyes. “Yes, I know.”

  “Did you have something to do with her death?” He placed a hand on the gun at his hip.

  Laramie’s mouth fell open. “What? Of course not.”

  He turned his head toward the horse trailer. “What are you doing, taking a ride?”

  “Gathering cattle that were displaced by the fire,” Laramie managed.

  “Good of you to help out when you’re grieving.”

  Derrick moved beside the deputy, his gaze dropped to the gun, then lifted to Gabe’s face. “What’s going on here? You wouldn’t be planning on aiming that at the lady would you, Deputy?”

  He dropped his hand. “Just asking a few questions.”

  “We’re not the ones you should be questioning. Your boss is the one who’s on the run. Maybe you even know where he is. We don’t.” Derrick’s voice was cold. “So unless you have some news for Laramie about her brother’s arrest, we’ll be going.”

  Gabe stepped back. “You have a good day now.”

  “We will.” Derrick shouldered past the other man and got in the truck. He started the engine and pulled away as the deputy stood in place, never taking his eyes from them. Derrick reached for her hand. “Come here.”

  Grabbing his hand like a lifeline, Laramie scooted over next to him. “What do you think that was all about? He asked if I had anything to do with Julie’s death.”

  Derrick looked in the side mirror. “I don’t know what that guy’s game is.”

  “He was almost as scary as Lawrence,” Laramie said. “I thought he was going to point his gun at me there for a minute.”

  “I did, too.” Derrick’s hand tightened around hers. “But he would’ve had to deal with me if he did. No one’s going to hurt you as long as I’m around.”

  Her throat clogged. But what about after he was gone? Derrick had to go back to his own life sooner or later. She had to take care of herself. Like she had since her folks moved to Denver. But she had Julie then. She would not give in to despair. It wouldn’t do any good, or bring Julie back. “Do you think Gabe knows where my brother is hiding?”

  “I don’t know,” Derrick said. “But if he’s smart, he’ll turn him in.”

  “His men have always stood behind him before.” A bitter taste filled her mouth. “They never believed Julie when she told them he was beating her.”

  Derrick’s eyes, when they met hers in the rearview mirror, filled with compassion. “She reported him?”

  Laramie nodded sadly. “At least once. But they basically laughed at her. Said Lawrence wouldn’t do such a thing. After that, she suffered in silence. I don’t even think I know about all of it.”

  “Why didn’t she leave him?”

  “Fear.” And she had been right to be afraid. “And she loved him.”

  “I don’t understand loving someone who abuses you.” He barked a bitter laugh. “I don’t love Cheryl. Not even a fraction. She destroyed all feelings when she lied and stole from me. The minute I found out about her true colors I was done.”

  “I wish Julie would’ve given up on my brother so much sooner.” There was nothing else to say. It was too late for Julie. A mistake Laramie would never make. Love didn’t mean nothing would go wrong. No matter how much she was attracted to Derrick, she could never fall in love with him.

  Why had she invited him to sleep with her? She must be suffering from a head injury. There was no way she could have sex with Derrick and walk away intact. She had to back out of it. Better him to think her a tease than have her heart broken. She pulled her hand from his and reached
into the backseat to stroke Zephyr’s silky ears.

  Derrick drew her attention to him when he spoke. “Lawrence will pay for a long time.”

  “If the police catch him.”

  “They’ll get him.”

  He sounded so confident Laramie almost believed it, too. But she couldn’t help looking in the side mirror. Nothing but a cloud of dust trailed after them. Was Lawrence holed up out there somewhere, or had he left the country? If he’d gone into the mountains, would the police be able to find him?

  Or would he find her first?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Derrick parked near an old corral not far from the Wild Jack’s entrance. After angling the trailer into a flat spot near the creek, he and Laramie tacked up her horses. Derrick wondered where his own geldings were. Somewhere close by, he hoped. The scent of smoke still hung in the air. Although this side of the mountain was dry, it hadn’t burned.

  After saddling the horses, Derrick climbed in the truck cab and grabbed two rifles. Handing one to Laramie, he said, “If you see that son of a bitch, shoot him. Don’t hesitate, just aim and fire.”

  Her skin paled, her freckles standing out like stars on a moonless night. “Okay. I know how to shoot. I took gun club in 4-H.”

  “I know it’s hard, but if you don’t shoot first, he’ll kill you.” He watched as she slid the rifle into the scabbard on her saddle.

  “I know.”

  Derrick’s frayed heart unraveled a little when she bravely lifted her chin. “I hope it won’t come to that.”

  “Me, too.”

  • • •

  As agreed, Ramona Quintana and several of her men arrived at short time later. Forty-something, an olive-skinned beauty, she always wore her curly black hair in a ponytail and a flat-brimmed straw hat with a stampede string tied securely under her chin.

  Derrick and Laramie led their horses to the group. He nodded to his neighbor and introduced Laramie.

  Ramona addressed all of them, including Derrick and Laramie. “We’ll bring the cattle here. When we get everything together, we’ll separate them. Any questions?”

  Derrick spoke. “My horses are loose, too. A gray, and a brown and white paint. If you spot them, would you please bring them in?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “One more thing.” Derrick made eye contact with each of them. “Cliffside’s sheriff, Lawrence Porter, is a wanted man, and we think he may be hiding out here. He’s extremely dangerous, so be careful. Mrs. Quintana, please go with someone who is armed.” Most of them had a rifle in a scabbard on their saddle, but Ramona didn’t.

  She nodded. “Si, I’ll go with you. That way, my vaqueros can concentrate on gathering cattle.” She ran her hands with a tight rein, and didn’t take orders from anyone. That she agreed to Derrick’s request meant she understood the seriousness of the threat.

  For a minute, Derrick wanted to refuse but she made sense. If Lawrence was stalking them, better for her to be where Derrick could keep an eye on both women. “We’ll take the right fork,” Derrick said. “We should be back around five. If we aren’t … ” He let his words trail off.

  “If the sheriff’s the bad guy, who do we contact?” asked one of the men in Spanish.

  Ramona looked at Derrick.

  “State policeman Brendan Cook. No one at the Cliffside department.”

  Although they nodded, Derrick wondered if they would call the police. If they were illegals, no way would any of them want to draw attention to themselves. He didn’t blame them; they had families of their own to protect. With a glance at Laramie, he said, “Let’s ride.”

  She turned her palomino gelding away, Ramona followed, and he fell in behind both women.

  As they rode, Derrick scanned the woods. Sunbeams danced through the trees, creating strange shadows that appeared to move around the tree trunks, and his skin crawled. If ordinary things he had seen his whole life made him this jumpy, he was losing it. “Just relax,” he told himself.

  Ahead of him, Laramie’s red-gold braid flopped on her back as she, too, turned her head, constantly on high alert for danger. Ramona also looked around, but Derrick knew she was more concerned with the cattle than the renegade sheriff. Derrick kept a close eye on Turbo, watching the dog for any sign of anger or distress. But Turbo and the other two dogs ran alongside the horses sniffing the ground.

  After rounding a bend, Laramie stopped and pointed. A small herd of cattle stood at the edge of the meadow. For a minute, Derrick admired the scene. Shiny black cows and calves either grazed peacefully or dozed in the late afternoon sun. He counted twenty-five in all. Turning toward Ramona, he said, “These are ours. We could catch them on the way back. They’re not going anywhere.”

  “I say go on at least to the next meadow. There’s a pond up there, and I bet another bunch is hanging around it.”

  Squinting toward the sun hanging low in the western sky, he estimated the time to be around four o’clock. They had a few hours of daylight before the sun started slipping behind the peaks. Although it would still be light for three or four more hours, shadows would fall across the peaks, making hiding places abundant. Ramona and Laramie waited for him to decide, and the decision weighed on him. If something happened to either woman, it would be on his conscience. Better to leave now than push on and regret forever.

  “No. Let’s get these cattle, head down, and get an early start in the morning.”

  With that, they broke apart and circled the cattle.

  Derrick motioned to Turbo, and the dog let out a shrill yip and lunged for a cow. On the other side of the meadow, Laramie yelled instructions to her dogs, who barked and darted among the bawling cows and calves, Ramona shouted a few naughty words in Spanish. Derrick added his voice to the melee, directing Turbo.

  The commotion created a din.

  When a gunshot rang out, ricocheting across the peaks, it first didn’t register in Derrick’s mind what it was.

  Until Laramie screamed.

  The ricochet sounded like a sonic boom, and the meadow erupted into chaos. The cattle, already started down the trail, stampeded. Barking wildly, the dogs gave chase. Nightmare jumped under Derrick, and for a minute, he feared the black horse might throw him. All he could think of was getting to Laramie. If she’d been shot …

  He spun the mare in a hard circle and galloped across the meadow, unable to see through the wall of dust the cows left in their wake. “Laramie? Where are you?”

  He heard her voice, and he guided his mount that direction. The dust lifted, and he spotted Laramie standing beside Ramona’s trembling horse. With a curse, he jumped from his own horse and ran the last few feet. Skidding to a stop, he took in the scene.

  Laramie stood at the head of Ramona’s bay mare, the other woman hanging from the right side of the shaking animal. “Help me. Ramona’s hurt.”

  Derrick raced around the horse, and fought back a wave of anger so fierce it rocked his soul. Ramona lay at a twisted angle beside the bay mare, her foot caught in the stirrup. Her lovely hair had come unbound and it trailed in the dirt, her signature hat laying a few feet away. A stream of bright red blood leaked from her chest, pooling around her, seeping into the dry earth. “Hold the horse still.”

  Lifting Ramona’s leg, he freed it from the unyielding stirrup. The mare lunged away from Laramie’s grasp and galloped away. The other two horses, spooked by the mare’s fear, galloped down the trail and out of sight.

  Derrick laid Ramona in the grass and knelt beside her, seeking a pulse. Nothing. She was gone. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Is she — ?”

  “Dead? Yeah.”

  Laramie fell in the grass beside him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she buried her face in his chest. Automatically, Derrick circled his arms around her. But he couldn’t stop staring at Ramona, who’d been so alive, so vibrant, not half an hour ago. His stomach clenched so hard he feared losing his lunch.

  Not one, but two women dead at the hands of a madman, and no on
e seemed to be able to do a damned thing about it. Well, he could do something … he could put the bastard out of his misery.

  Just like he would do a rabid coyote, shoot it.

  He stood, lifting Laramie to her feet. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She shook her head.

  “Listen to me.” He tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. “I’m not running anymore. I’m going to turn this thing around. I’m going after Lawrence myself.”

  She dug her fingers into his shirt. “No. Derrick, you can’t.”

  He took her hands and held them. “Yes, I can. And I’m going to.”

  Her eyes filled. “I can’t stand it if something happened to you.”

  “Something’s more likely to happen to me this way.” He looked around. “We’re like sitting ducks out here. If I don’t do something, he’s going to kill us both.”

  “The police — ”

  “Haven’t done a damn thing,” he said.

  “But they have an APB now,” she pleaded. “Let them take care of it.”

  “While I hide like a little girl,” Derrick said. “I’m tired of standing around while this maniac kills any more innocent women.” He looked around and saw they stood at the edge of the meadow. “We’ve got to get out of sight.”

  Leaving Ramona’s body, they slipped into the trees.

  Derrick hated leaving the woman’s body out in the open, but he figured the cops wouldn’t want him moving her. He dug in his pocket for his cell phone, and after checking it, found no bars. Just as he figured. His rifle was still stuck in his scabbard tied to his saddle. If he got real lucky, the horses would stop to graze.

  Moving quickly, but silently, he led Laramie deep into the forest where no one could get a clear shot at them. Sitting at the base of an old pine tree, he pulled Laramie into his lap. She trembled, but didn’t cry. He figured she’d suffered one shock too many. Her soft hair tickled his nose and the curve of her hip pushed into his groin, distracting him. He shifted, making his jeans tight, uncomfortable.

  Laramie had invited him to share her bed.