by Joanna Wayne
She trembled and he tucked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. Her skin was white, the same pale shade as the gown that draped her shoulders, and her eyes were wide, more burning than afraid.
“I got your call, Ashley. What happened here?”
She stuck a note in his direction, and he took it from her, lighting a match so he could read in the near darkness. The words slammed into his brain.
“That dirty, rotten son of a…” The words trailed into a series of curses. “Where did you find this?” he asked when the fury quieted enough for him to speak.
“It was in Petey’s bed.”
“Oh, my God. No wonder you’re so shaken.” He knelt in front of her and cradled her against him. “Did you see him?”
“No. I was downstairs. I’d gone to the kitchen when I couldn’t sleep. When I started up, I heard footsteps, quick and hard, like someone in a hurry.” She pulled away from him and stood, walking over to lean against Petey’s crib.
“He’s all right?” Dillon asked, staring at the son he still couldn’t quite believe he’d helped conceive. He was too perfect, too precious. And much too fragile.
Petey squirmed as if he knew he was being watched, a smile twisting at his small lips as he punched a thumb into his mouth.
“He’s fine,” Ashley said, tugging the thin sheet over his legs. “He never even woke up.”
“And we better get out of here before he does.” Dillon took Ashley’s hand and led her to the door. “I said I’d protect the two of you. I did a damn lousy job of it.”
“You tried. I tried. Tried, worried and ran for seven years.” She trembled and all but fell against him. “I can’t keep it up, Dillon. It has to stop.”
“And it will.” He led her down the hall, his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll see that Lester ends up in prison where he belongs. He should have never been paroled.”
“You can’t stop him, Dillon. No one can. He’s obsessed.”
“I can stop him, and I will. You have my word on that.”
“Your word isn’t good enough. Not where Lester’s concerned. He’s not a senate committee you can fight into submission.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. When you’re calmer.” He pushed open the door to the bedroom, then stopped as his muscles jerked into tight balls.
“Part of Lester’s house tour,” Ashley said, her words low but steady. “Evidently he used the time I was downstairs to carry out his search. He’s so sure I have the money. So sure I’m a crook like he is.”
Dillon reached down and picked up a silky nightie that had been strung over the arm of a chair. Fury clawed at his gut and corded the muscles in his neck and face. He could see Lester rifling through Ashley’s intimate things, all but read his sick mind. He slammed a fist into the wall, wishing to hell it could be Lester’s face he was smashing to bits.
Using his fit of force on something constructive, he heaved the mattress over his head and dropped it in place on top of the box spring. “Let’s make this up so you can get some sleep. The rest of this mess can wait until tomorrow.”
“I don’t know that I can sleep, not after all of this.”
“You won’t need to worry. I’ll be right here beside you and Petey. Tonight and every night until our sicko is back at Huntsville in a barred cell.”
“You have a campaign to run. Langley says you’ll have to work day and night to clear your name and win the election.”
“Do you think I’m going to walk off and let that man come on my property, threaten my wife and son, run his filthy fingers through your things?” His words tumbled over themselves in a furious torrent. “Do you think an election means more to me than Petey? More than you?”
“I only know one thing, Dillon. Lester will not give up as long as he’s convinced I have the money. Guards, gates, fences, guns. None of that stops him. I’ll leave the ranch tomorrow. That way you and your family can go on with their lives. And I’ll know Petey is safe.”
Her words caught him by surprise. He dropped the corner of the sheet and let it drop to the bed. “You’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not if I have to rope and tie you to the bedstead.”
“Why, Dillon? Why is my welfare so important to you now after you practically threw me off the ranch before?”
Why? He’d asked himself the question a hundred times in the past few days. Why was having her near so important? Why was it he couldn’t even think about her leaving without his insides protesting with nauseous aches? Why did he want a woman who’d tried so hard to rob him of his own flesh and blood?
“I don’t know.” The answer was honest, the only one he could give. He stepped closer, wrapping his hands around her forearms and pulling her close. “Maybe it’s because of Petey. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I’d stood by and done nothing while the mother of my son had to fight for her life.”
She met his gaze, not flinching and not pulling away. “Then this is all for Petey?”
“No, not all of it.” His fingers traveled her arm and circled her neck, his thumb massaging the smooth flesh, up to her earlobe and down again. He ached to take her in his arms, to forget all the bad that had come between them and relive all the good.
“You and Petey will be safe on Burning Pear, Ashley. I let you down tonight. It won’t happen again. When I can’t be with you, Branson or Langley will be, day and night, not guarding you from the yard, but from right here in the house.”
“You can’t ask that of them.”
“Sure I can. They’re family. I won’t let you go, Ashley. End of discussion.”
Ashley closed her eyes against traitorous tears. Once, she had prayed for Dillon to say the words he was saying tonight. But he had turned his back on her and let her walk away without as much as a proper goodbye.
He’d done the same when she’d finally managed to find the courage to return and tell him he had a son. Cold and detached, he’d looked at her like some slimy specimen under a microscope. Now suddenly everything had changed, and she hadn’t a clue why.
“A few more days, and Lester Grant will be locked away. Then we can settle a lot of things.”
His lips touched hers, a second so fleeting she almost thought she’d imagined it. But she didn’t imagine the smoky desire that dusted the surface of his eyes.
His arms were wrapped around her, stroking her back, his fingers climbing her neck and tangling in her hair. His lips met hers, and she felt the fight drain from her in a rush of passion. The kiss deepened for long minutes. Finally, Dillon pulled away.
“I want you, Ashley. But not like this. Not when you can blame it all on dead passion or fear. The next time we make love it will be because you want it so badly, you ask for it.” He stepped away.
“Sure of yourself, aren’t you, Senator?”
“About us? Yeah, I am.”
Confident, powerful, so cocksure he reeked of authority. The same Dillon who had taken her breath away a few years ago. The problem was, he still did.
A cry from Petey’s room interrupted them just in time. One more kiss, and she might have met Dillon’s terms tonight. He followed her to the crib, watching while she checked on their waking son. Petey took one look at him and cried louder. She motioned Dillon out of the room and patted Petey back to slumber.
Killers he slept through. His father he wailed at. From the mouth of babes, or so she’d heard said. Something told her she should be listening and heeding her son’s unspoken advice.
By the time she got to her bedroom, she could hear DilIon downstairs, barking orders into the phone. A man in control. Only he wasn’t. Lester was. And it all came down to one thing. Keeping Petey safe. That was up to her.
“JUST LIKE THIS, Petey. You wrap this part around your finger and twirl it.” Langley stepped into the center of the twirling rope and then out again.
“I think your pupil might be a little young for rope tricks.” Ashley perched on the edge of the sofa and sipped from the glass of iced lemonade.
&
nbsp; “You can’t start being a cowboy too young.”
“I guess you’re right. Today potty training. Tomorrow bull riding.” She laughed. As always with Langley or with Mary, she felt at ease. With Branson, she was the enemy. With Dillon…
The door opened and he stamped in as if she’d conjured him up from her thoughts. He tossed a newspaper on the coffee table and darkened the room with his scowl.
“The press has done it again.”
Langley and she lunged for the paper at the same time. She beat him to it, the headlines popping up at her even before she had it in her hands.
Senator’s Wife an Uncleared Accomplice in Longview Bank Robbery. She read the words in silence, anger swelling inside her until she thought she might explode. Lies and speculations told like gospel.
“Where did they get this story?”
“Where do they get any of their stories? From one dirt pile or another. There’s always filth if you dig deep enough and don’t bother with the truth.”
“But I was never a suspected accomplice, so how could I be cleared?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not you they’re interested in burying, it’s me. They’ve accused me of being a thief, now they can tie you in, too. It makes for a juicier story. I’m sorry, Ashley.”
“Don’t be. The article can’t hurt me. It’s you who stands to lose votes. One bad marriage and you’re tainted forever.”
“If you look at it that way, I guess you could say the same thing. You’re the one married to the crooked politician.”
“Look, you guys, sounds to me like you need to be alone. Why don’t I take Petey up to the big house for a while?”
“That’s—”
“A good idea.”
Dillon finished her sentence with his own words, the opposite of her intention, then circled the room to stand much too close for comfort.
She stepped away. “Do you want to go with your uncle Langley, Petey?” she asked, gathering a few favorite toys and stuffing them into a canvas tote. “He’s going to Grandma’s house.”
“Ride orsey.”
“Afraid not, cowboy. I’m in my truck, but you can wear my hat if you’re real careful.” He set the oversize hat on Petey’s head and hoisted him to his shoulders.
As Langley and Petey headed down the back steps, Riff headed up. “I hate to bother you, Miss Ashley, but I saw the boss’s truck out front, and I sure need to talk to him.”
“Certainly, Riff. Come on in.” She held the door for him.
He stamped the dust off his feet and slapped at the seat of his jeans. “I’m afraid I ain’t dressed for visiting.”
“You look just fine.” She stuck her head through the door into the den. “You have company,” she called.
“Riff s here to see you.”
Dillon joined them in the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“I saw the paper. Those folks just love trouble, don’t they?”
“Looks that way.”
“A lot of folks do.” Riff shuffled his feet.
“If you have something on your mind, Riff, just spit it out.”
“It’s about last night.”
Ashley left the sink and came to the table, taking the seat opposite Riffs. “What about last night?”
“I thought of something else, after we talked.” He slanted his head in Ashley’s direction.
“Go on,” Dillon said. “If it’s about what happened last night, Ashley needs to hear it, too.”
“Well, you know how I told you I saw her standing up here and waving like everything was fine.”
“I thought it was then.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know that. But right after that, there was a ruckus behind the fence. I’d forgotten about it when you asked ‘cause I didn’t think nothing of it at the time.”
Ashley scooted her chair closer. “What do you mean by a ruckus?”
“Noise, like a cat fight or something. I was going to check it out. I changed position so I could see the other side of the house, but Trick rode up about then, ready to change guard, and I clear forgot about it.”
“But neither you or Trick saw a man in my bedroom?”
“No, ma’am. Trick thought he saw something down by the fence, and we headed that way. We never found a thing, though. By then, you were in the kitchen, and we just watched this side of the house where we could see you and Petey’s room, too.”
“So you never saw anyone in my bedroom except me?”
“No. That’s what’s bothering me. I should have. If I had gone around to check that noise or hadn’t left my guard so soon after Trick showed up, I might have seen the scoundrel.”
“It’s not your fault, Riff. I gave you a signal that everything was fine.”
“Well, still. It was my job to guard the house. I was still talking to Trick when the boss here showed up. That’s when your call came through.”
“We can’t undo what’s been done, Riff,” Dillon said. “Just be sure nothing goes unchecked again.”
“No, sir. It won’t. Not when I’m on duty.”
Dillon walked over to Riff and planted a reassuring pat across the man’s shoulder blades. Ashley watched the two of them head to the door, the talk switching to ranching. Still, Riff seemed a little too nervous. Like maybe he had something to hide. Or maybe he just didn’t like admitting to the boss he’d heard a noise and never checked it out.
Either way, she wasn’t sure she trusted him. But then, she didn’t trust too many people these days.
RALPH RIGGINS stood in the dry Texas heat holding the handle of the gas pump. The numbers in the smeared window were hurtling by almost too fast to read. Already up to fourteen dollars and his tank still wasn’t full. If he didn’t locate Ashley Jackson Randolph soon, he’d have to up his fee just to cover expenses.
Frankly, he’d as soon give up the chase altogether if he hit another dry well. But this time chances looked pretty good, and the thrill of the hunt was starting to swell inside him.
Wrapping up a job successfully was one of the few rewards he got in this business. That and a really cold sixpack at the end of the day. If his luck held, he’d have both by tomorrow night.
And Ashley? Well, she’d have a surprise or two, as well.
Chapter Twelve
Ashley stuffed the contents of the file folder into place as Dillon finished his second cup of coffee. He’d brought home a copy of the transcript of Lester’s trial yesterday, as she’d asked, and she’d spent half the night scrutinizing every word.
She was sorry she’d read it. Nothing in there gave any hint as to where the money could be stashed, and the eyewitness report of Peter shooting the witnesses while they pleaded for their lives had made her physically ill. Her mind couldn’t accept it.
“I have to fly over to Houston this afternoon,” Dillon said, getting up from the table and sticking his empty cup in the sink. “I’d like for you to go with me.”
“To add fuel to the story that we’re getting back together to carry out our con scheme? That won’t earn you any votes.”
“I’m not playing press games. I stand on my record and my honor as a man. The people in my district have known me all my life. If that doesn’t count, then they need to vote their conscience. I’ll handle the loss.”
“If you lose the election, it’s everybody’s loss.”
“Sounds like I’ll get one vote, anyway.”
“Not from me. I’m a resident of Florida.”
“Were a resident of Florida.”
She didn’t argue the point. “So why do you want me to go to Houston with you?”
“To visit a cop. Branson’s been doing some legwork for me. A couple of days ago, he managed to locate the officer who headed up the Longview bank robbery investigation. He moved to Houston five years ago and then seemed to disappear. That’s why it took so long to track him down.”
“But Branson came through. Why am I not surprised?”
“Branson is trying to help us.”
&n
bsp; “He’s trying to help you.”
“That’s one and the same in my book.”
Obviously Dillon was reading fiction. “You don’t have to do this on my account,” she said, walking over to stand beside him.
“Let’s say it’s for all of us, Petey included. That money is somewhere. If this policeman or anyone knows anything that will help us find the stolen money, we could put a lot of rumors to rest.”
“Neither my diary or the trial transcript helped. Going all the way to Houston to talk to a cop will probably be another wasted effort. It certainly won’t help us find Lester.”
“This isn’t just about Lester. My guess is he’s miles away from here by now. This trip is about letting go of the past, at least the bad parts.”
“The trip will be a long shot.”
“It’s the only shot we have right now. But it’s up to you,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek and tucking it behind her ear. “Mother and Langley have already agreed to stay with Petey. He’ll be well cared for and perfectly safe. The paid guards are still on duty, even though it’s been quiet around here for the past few days.”
“Okay,” she whispered, giving in again when she should be saying no. “I’ll go with you, but I don’t expect any kind of closure to come from this trip. If the investigating officer had known where the money was, he’d have found it seven years ago.”
“A clue is all I’m after, one little snip of information no one took seriously then,” Dillon said, walking over and snatching his hat from the top shelf of the book rack. “Sometimes that’s all it takes for the pieces to fit.”
“The eternal optimist.”
“That’s me.” Dillon slid his hand under her chin and tilted her face, his lips inches away. “Be ready in an hour. And pack a bag, we’ll be staying overnight.”
Ashley let out an audible groan. Today was going to be a challenge. Surviving the night with her sanity intact would be an Olympian feat.
ASHLEY STARED out the car window as Dillon pulled into a trailer park. Clumps of grass and weeds grew over a foot high in spots. As far as she could see, there were only two trailers on the site. Both seemed deserted.
