don't understand," Abby said.
"They've been stealing your money, Abby. I'd imagine initially they
hoped to force you into selling because you couldn't afford to do
anything else. Then Greg was killed and they saw an opportunity to
make certain you lost the ranch by framing you for his murder."
"Very good." Richard flashed Luke a tight smile. "Nobody was supposed
to die, but Dad has a bad temper and Greg was not a nice person. Dad
spiked Abby's cocoa with a little hallucinogenic, figuring she'd start
acting weird and make it easier for everyone to believe she'd killed
Greg. I pulled the button off her blouse the day I arrested her. It
only took me a minute to go back and add in one bloody button to the
crime scene report."
Luke prayed for a moment when the gun might waver, when Richard would
be distracted enough to get the sight of the gun off him and Abby. But
Richard appeared cool and completely in control. As he spoke about
what he and Rusty had done, a feeling of doom engulfed Luke. There was
no way the two criminals would walk out of hem and leave Luke and Abby
alive, not after telling them everything that had been done.
"Rusty, go get some rope," Richard said.
Abby shivered again and Luke pulled her tighter against his side,
wishing he could figure out how to get her out of here, out of danger's
way.
"You'll never get away with this, Helstrom," Luke said.
Richard's eyebrows danced upward and he smiled wryly. "I can't imagine
who can stop us."
"What are you going to do with us?" Abby asked as Rusty returned with
a long coil of rope.
"There's going to be a tragic accident." Keeping the gun pointed
d'lmctly at Abby, Richard moved the chair from behind the desk and put
it back-to-back with the straight-backed chair in front of the desk. He
motioned for Abby and Luke to each have a seat.
As they sat, back-to-back, Rusty began by first tying their hands
behind them, then winding the rope around the two chairs, binding them
together.
While Rusty tied them securely, Richard began throwing crumpled papers
into the metal wastebasket by the side of the desk. "Did you know that
in most home rims, victims don't die from the flames, but rather
succumb to smoke inhalation?" he said as he continued to fill the
trash can.
Luke's blood ran cold as he realized their intentions. He felt Abby's
fear emanating from her even though he couldn't see her face and knew
she also realized what they planned to do.
"Rusty, get out of hem. Go someplace where you'll be seen by people to
establish an alibi," Richard said as he pulled a book of matches from
his breast pocket.
"This will never work, Helstrom. Somebody will see the flames in the
night," Luke said.
Richard smiled, a cold, killer gesture. "I know how to set a fire to
get maximum smoke and minimal flame. By the time anyone knows you're
in here, it will be too late."
"TII meet you tonight at Wild Coyote's," Rusty said to Richard, then he
disappeared out the door.
For a moment them was silence except for the sound of Abby's frantic
breathing as she struggled against the ropes that bound her.
"I'm sorry it's got to be this way. I never intended for anyone to get
hurt, but I suppose when you get lemons you make lemonade," Richard
said.
"What are you going to tell people to explain our deaths?" Abby asked.
"Don't you think people will get suspicious under the circumstances?"
"You've forgotten, Abby. We're rural out hem. I'll make sure I'm the
one to investigate the tim." He leaned against the desk, his
expression as bland as if he were talking about the weather. "The way
I figure it, Abby was a careless smoker." He pulled a pack of
cigarettes from his pocket and shook one out.
"That's crazy, I don't smoke," Abby protested. "Yes, you do. I can
testify that when I interrogated you right after your arrest, you
smoked one cigarette after another. Rusty will be able to tell
everyone he saw you sneaking cigarettes several times. He'll also be
able to tell everyone that you just weren't quite right in the head for
the last couple of months. You even mentioned getting phone calls from
Greg long after his funeral." He lit the cigarette and took a deep
drag. "Yeah, the way I see it, your smoking carelessness caused two
tragic deaths." He threw the cigarette into the wastebasket. "This is
really for the best. Abby, your 'sisters will mourn you deeply, and in
their grief they'll sell the ranch and I'll buy it for me and my
father. We'll think of you often with fondness."
He smiled as smoke swirled out of the wastebasket, and in his smile
Luke saw the cold absence of conscience, the trait of a sociopath.
With his foot, he moved the wastebasket closer to the love seat against
the back wall, where once the smoldering burst into flames, they could
easily consume the fabric. Casting a final smile at his two victims,
he left the room, softly closing the door behind him.
The minute he left, Luke struggled against the ropes that tightly
crisscrossed his chest. "Dammit," he gasped after several moments of
exertion. "Who'd have thought that scrawny old man could tie such
tight knots?"
"I can't believe this. I can't believe any of this is happening."
Luke heard the edge of hysteria in Abby's voice and wished he could
hold her, assure her that everything would be fine. But, of course,
not only could he not hold her, but he had little hope to offer her.
He struggled once again, attempting to free himself from the ropes, but
there was no give. The room was quickly filling with smoke, a thick
black smoke that burned the back of his throat and stung his eyes.
"Dammit," he repeated helplessly.
"Help. Help us," Abby screamed, but her scream ended with another
harsh round of coughing.
Flames leapt out of the wastebasket and licked the edge of the sofa,
blackening the fabric and creating more thick smoke.
Abby coughed, a wrenching sound that tore at Luke's heart. "Abby, I'm
so sorry. I should have realized. I knew there was something not
right, that Rusty had something up his sleeve. I should have done
something. I should have sensed the danger."
"Shut up, Luke. Just shut up. Stop trying to take responsibility for
everything that happens." She paused and choked again, then continued,
her voice deeper, more harsh. "This isn't your fault. Greg wasn't
your fault. Stop beating yourself up and help me figure out a way to
get us out of this mess."
The harsh tickle in the back of Luke's throat prevented him from saying
anything else. Instead he closed his eyes against the burn of the
smoke and wondered if his last thoughts on this earth would be ones
tinged with regret.
ABBY HAD NEVER been so hot. The sofa had burst into flames moments
before and for the first time since Rusty had tied them to the chair,
Abby realized she was going to die. Her lungs ached with each breath
and perspiration dappled
the surface of her skin as the heat in the
room intensified.
"Help! Please, somebody!" Her throat was raw and she knew there was
no way anyone would hear their cries for help above the fire's growl.
It seemed ironic that she would die tied to a man who professed to love
her, but not enough to devote the rest of his life to her. Now in
death they would be bound through eternity.
She coughed again, fighting for breath in the noxious smoke. Her home
was burning, she and the man she loved were probably mere minutes from
death. It couldn't end this way, it just couldn't.
She strove to free her hands, twisting and turning until her wrists
felt raw. She knew Luke attempted the same, could feel his frantic
movements as he fought against the rope that held them.
An involuntary scream erupted from her raw throat as the curtains
caught fire, the flames licking up toward the ceiling. Terror screamed
inside her as she felt the hot breath of death surrounding her.
She stopped struggling, realizing her efforts were useless. Closing
her eyes against the stinging hot ash and the black soot that swirled
in the air, she felt the last gasp of hope leave her body.
Luke touched her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. "Abby." He
gasped her name above the din of the snapping, crackling, roaring fire.
"Abby, I do love you."
Tears burned as they oozed down her cheeks. His words soothed her
fear, gave her the peace and courage to face what Fate had in store for
them.
"I love you, Lke," she answered, the words coming with difficulty from
her scorched lungs: She could no longer see anything in the room but
flames and thick black smoke. Luke's fingers tightened around hers and
she closed her eyes once again and waited for death.
"Miss Abby! Are you in there?"
Abby opened her eyes, feeling as if she were coming out of a dream. She
realized she'd momentarily passed out and from the tightness of the
rope, she assumed Luke had slumped into unconsciousness. "Hello? Is
somebody there?"
"Miss Abby. You got to get out of there." Bulldog's voice rang from
the doorway.
"Bulldog, we need help. We're tied. Get a knife and cut us free,"
Abby screamed.
Seconds passed, long seconds as unconsciousness once again flirted with
Abby, attempting to pull her under into the blackness of oblivion. The
doorway where Bulldog had appeared was on fire and she wondered how
he'd get into the room to cut them loose. Any sane, rational person
would not try to get through the flaming doorway.
"He'll have to find another way in," Luke yelled, and Abby realized at
some point he'd regained consciousness.
"The window is on fire, too," Abby said, hope again seeping away.
"I'm coming, Miss Abby," Bulldog's voice rang from the hallway.
"No, Bulldog, it's too dangerous," Luke yelled. With a roar of sheer
emotion, Bulldog burst through the flaming doorway and rushed to where
Abby and Luke were tied. Using a kitchen knife, he sawed through the
rope. Abby gasped in relief as she felt herself freed from the
chair.
"Don't worry about our hands," Luke exclaimed. "Let's just get the
hell out of here." He started for the doorway, but intense heat drove
him back.
"Don't worry, Miss Abby. Follow me." Before Abby could stop him,
Bulldog ran for the window and threw himself through. As the fresh air
flooded in, the fire intensified, fed by the Oxygen.
"Go!" Luke yelled, and he pushed her toward the opening Bulldog had
made.
Within minutes they were out, gasping and choking as they drew in the
sweet night air. In the distance the wail of sirens rose above the din
of the fire.
"I called them from the kitchen," Bulldog said. He looked at Abby. "I
told them we needed help. That was a good thing to do, wasn't it?"
Abby cupped Bulldog's face in her hands. His features were blackened
with soot, and scratches and cuts bled freely from his plunge through
the window. "That wasn't just a good thing to do, it was the smart
thing to do." A smile wreathed his face. "You saved our lives,
Bulldog."
"" Course I did. You're my family, Miss Abby. I love all of you. "
She hugged him. She knew other men would have been smart enough to be
too afraid to first run into a flaming room, then throw themselves
through a window. Bulldog hadn't reacted from intelligence, he'd acted
from love.
As she released Bulldog, Luke pulled her into his arms. "Thank God
you're all right," he breathed into her hair.
She nodded and stepped out of his embrace as two fire trucks pulled in
front of the house and half a dozen firemen set to work. Yes, she was
all right, but her house was burning and the man she loved would soon
be gone from her life.
"Mom!"
She turned at the sound of Cody's voice. As Belinda pulled the truck
to a stop, Cody bounded from the passenger seat. He threw himself into
her arms, wrapping his legs around her waist as he held her tight
around the neck.
"It's okay, Cody. I'm all right." She squeezed him tight, frightened
as she realized how close she'd come to never seeing him again, never
holding him again.
Cody released his hold on her neck and looked at her. "Your face is
all black. Were you in the fire?"
"Yes, sweetheart, but I'm okay now." Abby smiled as Belinda rushed to
her side. "Was Luke in the fire, too?" Abby nodded. "But he's
okay."
For a few minutes the two sisters watched as the firemen worked to put
out the flames. Abby continued to hold Cody, who seemed to sense her
need and didn't fight what would normally be the unwanted display of
motherly affection.
"Abby." She turned to see Luke. "I'm going with Junior." He gestured
to where t! e sheriff had parked and appeared to be waiting for Luke.
"We're going after Rusty and Richard. Will you be all right?"
She looked at him, memorizing his features to sustain her on long
lonely nights. "Of course." She hugged her son. "Cody and I are
going to be just fine." '
She could tell by the expression in his eyes that he'd gotten her
point. He could leave now, go back to Chicago and his life. She and
Cody were a package deal, and if he couldn't l ve her son, she didn't
want his love.
For another long moment their gazes remained connected, then he nodded
curtly, as if he'd heard all the thoughts in her head. "Goodbye,
Abby." He turned to leave.
"Hey, Luke." Cody wiggled out of his mother's embrace and ran after
him.
Luke paused, his gaze curious as he eyed the little boy. Cody dug into
his pocket and pulled out the good luck hickory nut. "Even though
you're not a real cowboy, I still like you. You'd better take this. If
you'd had it before probably you wouldn't have been in the fire."
Abby was too far away to see Luke's expression, but her heart broke as
she watched her son give his good luck charm and his love to a man who
apparently couldn't return that love.
Luke took the nut and without a backward glance walked away. Abby
watched as he got into the patrol car with Junior. Cody ran back to
her, his gaze also going to the patrol car driving away. "We aren't
going to see Luke again, are we?"
"No, honey. I don't think so."
"I think he could have been a real cowboy if he'd tried harder, don't
you?" Cody asked.
Abby squeezed her son's shoulders sympathetically, unable to speak
around the lump of emotion in her throat.
Chapter Sixteen
Dawn brought a nightmare sight. In the early glow of morning light the
full extent of the damage to the house was evident. Abby sat on the
bench next to the barn, staring at the gaping black hole that marred
the exterior of her home.
She should be grateful. Although it had taken most of the night, the
firemen had managed to contain the fire to the office area. The rest
of the house had been saved except for some smoke damage in the rooms
nearest the office.
She rubbed her eyes, wondering if they were gritty from lack of sleep
or the smoke that still lay heavy and black in the area.
Junior had shown up a little earlier, telling her both Rusty and
Richard were behind bars. They would face a variety of charges that
would keep them out of society for the rest of their lives. "I'm
Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Page 22
