by Joanna Wayne
Alexis gave Tommy a quick hug before tugging her skirt down and walking toward the yellow farmhouse. She stopped when she saw a man in coveralls standing on the front porch.
“Why do I have the feeling that Scott is standing in the shadows watching me even here in the middle of a cornfield?”
“Because the lying, conniving bastard did a number on you,” Meghan said. “I, on the other hand, don’t think Scott Hayden would come anywhere near this cornfield unless he was shooting a scene in it. Besides, I think that your luck is about to turn. Betty Cross will be the prize behind door number one.”
“I like the way you think.”
Betty greeted them and led them to the kitchen. Her husband, Eli, joined them, the skeptical frown he’d worn on the porch still plastered to his weather-roughened face.
Meghan was a marvel at getting people to open up. In minutes, she had Betty offering information without even waiting for the questions.
“Scott and I both grew up in this area, but in separate towns. I didn’t meet him until we both started classes at the University of Illinois.”
“How long did you know him before you started dating?”
“Just a week or two. It was my freshman year. We sat next to each other in sociology class. One night I invited him to my dorm room to study. It just grew from there.”
Betty seemed nervous. Her husband seemed angry. Alexis hoped Betty hadn’t traded one monster for another.
“Did he ever talk about his family?” Meghan asked.
“All the time. He was raised by his grandmother. The way he talked, she must have been the meanest woman who ever lived. She used to lock him out of the house when he was just a little kid and sometimes not let him back in until way past dark. She kicked him out for good when he was sixteen.”
Scott had told Alexis his parents were both diplomats to Turkey. “Did he do well in school?” she asked.
“Not particularly, but he always blamed his bad grades on the teacher’s stupidity. He claimed he’d been tested and fell in the genius range, but I never saw the test scores. He was always talking about making it big and how people were going to look up to him. I mean you’d think he was exiled royalty the way he bragged about himself and what he deserved.”
“He was a jerk,” Betty’s husband said.
“Did you know him, too?” Meghan asked.
“No, but I know how he treated Betty. If I ever see him in person, I’ll kick his ass for that. Sorry, but that’s how I feel.”
“I wouldn’t get into a fight with him,” Alexis said. “I hear he has a temper and a bodyguard the size of a small tank.”
“How did he treat you?” Meghan asked.
Betty’s mouth drew into hard lines. “Like he was better than me. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”
“Tell them what he did to you,” her husband coaxed. “Don’t be ashamed. It was him that did it—not you. People should know what he’s really like.”
“They should,” Alexis agreed.
Betty cast her eyes downward. “I got pregnant. I told Scott about it and he went crazy. I mean like he was madman. He screamed that he didn’t want trash like me having his kid. That I’d have to get an abortion or he’d do it for me. Then he banged my head against the wall until I passed out.”
“Did you lose the baby?”
“Not then, but I miscarried a few weeks later.”
“You must have called the police when he attacked you,” Meghan said. “I saw the record of it in the police files.”
“I called my dad. He called the police. Then he took his own gun and went out hunting for Scott. Thank God, he didn’t find him that night. I think he might have killed him.”
“What happened after that?”
“Scott moved out to California. I never heard from him again. Then a few years later, I see him on a TV talk show and he’s like some Hollywood big shot.”
“I’ve been telling her for years she ought to call one of those magazines he’s always in and tell them what he done to her,” Eli said.
“They’d never believe me,” Betty said. “I’m a nobody, and he’s famous. Besides, I don’t want people around here talking about me.”
“What happened to Scott’s grandmother?” Meghan asked.
“She died about five years ago. She’s buried in that cemetery just off Cougar Road. You’ll run into it if you keep going west when you leave here.”
Eli must have decided he’d wasted enough time on them. He told them goodbye and left out the back door. A few minutes later, he drove off on his tractor. Betty turned toward the window and watched until he disappeared from sight.
They talked a few more minutes, but Betty just repeated the same things she’d already told them. Alexis called Tague and she and Meghan went out to wait for him on the porch. Betty followed them.
“Are you going to print what I told you about Scott?”
“It could go public at some point,” Meghan admitted.
Betty lowered her voice. “That part I told you about getting pregnant with Scott’s baby.”
“What about it?” Alexis asked.
“It might not be completely true.”
There went their smidgen of evidence. The trip to Illinois had likely been for nothing.
“So he didn’t hit you and bang your head against the wall?” Meghan asked.
“Oh, he hit me all right. He hurt me bad, but I’m not for certain that was his baby I was pregnant with. I mean, it could have been someone else’s. But Scott didn’t know that. He just didn’t want me having his child. I was kind of glad when someone kidnapped his son. I know that’s wrong and I hope that kid is safe, but Scott doesn’t deserve kids. He never did.”
And he never would. But Alexis seriously doubted Betty’s testimony would sway a jury or a judge.
Betty had called it right. She was a nobody. He was famous. That was life in the real world.
Maybe that’s why she loved Tague’s world so much more than her own.
* * *
ALEXIS DELIBERATELY CHOSE a double seat at the back of the plane that didn’t allow anyone to sit directly across from her and Tommy. The more she thought about her situation, the angrier she got at Tague, unfair as it might be.
He could have let her and Tommy go on the run again. It wasn’t the perfect solution but it was a thousand times better than what would happen if his plans failed.
And what did he know about people like Scott Hayden anyway? If he was shocked that Scott had a mean grandmother, what would he think of her parents? That she was white trash? That she wasn’t good enough to have his children the way Scott had thought Betty wasn’t good enough to bear his?
Okay, so she was stretching things now, but there were nuggets of truth hiding beneath her irritation. She and Tague lived in different worlds. His was laced with love. Hers was laced with arsenic—or so it had seemed when she was growing up.
But she’d be a good mother to Tommy if the world would just give her a chance.
It was past Tommy’s naptime and he fell asleep in minutes. Alexis leaned back and closed her eyes. Tague and Meghan were two rows in front of her, sitting across the aisle from each other. Their voices were easily discernible, their conversation impossible to ignore.
“Both company jets are booked for tomorrow,” Tague said. “I had Lambert Inc.’s travel department charter a flight. The plane holds six so there’s plenty of room for Jackson to fly back with us.”
“How is he getting there?”
“He had a change of plans and he’s there now, talking to Lena Fox’s older sister. Evidently she welcomed the opportunity to sound off about Scott and about Lena’s death.”
“Does she think Lena was murdered?”
“Yes, but not by Alexis—or Melinda R
yan as she knows her. She’s convinced Scott murdered her, and is furious that now he’s using the charge of murder as a publicity scheme to build interest in his new thriller.”
“So exactly who’s going to California?” Meghan asked.
“You and me. I’m meeting Jackson at his hotel and we’re paying a visit to Scott’s Malibu estate while Scott’s holding auditions in L.A.”
“You’ll never get inside the gates.”
“We’ll have an escort,” Tague said.
“Lena’s sister?”
“Right. Scott had been after her to come out and pick up the rest of Lena’s personal belongings. Jackson had her call Scott and tell him she’d be out tomorrow and was bringing a couple of friends to help her haul off the stuff.”
“How much stuff is still there?”
“Everything but the furs and jewels that sister dearest rescued before Scott could sell them or give them to another woman.”
“So mostly clothes?” Meghan asked.
“A three-closet wardrobe.”
“Three closets full of designer dresses, gowns, handbags and shoes. And I’ll be stuck playacting for Scott. Want to trade places?”
“Not unless the role you’re auditioning for is cowboy-without-a-horse, because that’s what I feel like now.”
“Durk always said you and Damien were cowboys to the core.”
“And he’s a cowboy at heart,” Tague said.
“Which would indicate he had a heart.”
Alexis opened her eyes, her curiosity piqued by Meghan’s tone and words. She’d love to know what had happened between Meghan and Tague’s brother Durk. There had to be a story there and her guess was Meghan wasn’t over him yet.
If Durk was anything like Tague, she could understand that. Her irritation with Tague had dropped drastically since they’d boarded the plane. She had no right to complain. Her problems had taken over his life and still he searched for ways to do more.
But going to Scott’s Malibu estate was a terrible and extremely dangerous idea. If Scott found out that Tague was involved with Alexis, he’d explode. She had to find a way to make Tague change his mind.
* * *
MEGHAN HAD TAKEN her own car from the Austin airport, leaving Tague, Alexis and Tommy to drive home together. Tague had tried to make conversation with Alexis but she’d withdrawn into a shell he couldn’t seem to crack.
He turned onto the winding, wooded road that led to the camp. “I’m a guy, Alexis. You’ll have to tell me what I’ve done wrong if you want me to fix it. I’ll never figure it out on my own.”
She turned to face him. “Okay. I’ll tell you what’s wrong. You keep underestimating Scott. You act like spying on him at his house is as safe as walking to the horse barn back at the Bent Pine Ranch.”
“I take it you overheard my conversation with Meghan?”
“You weren’t exactly whispering.”
“Why should I? I have nothing to hide. Maybe the real problem is that you keep underestimating me. You expect me to cower in fear while we wait for Scott to make the next move.”
“I expect you to stay safe, Tague. I expect you not to go looking to get your head bashed in. I expect you to…”
“Go ahead. Say it. You expect me to what?”
“To stay alive. I don’t want to lose you to a madman, Tague.” Fear edged her voice.
Tague pulled off on the shoulder of the road and let the truck roll to a stop. Then he put his seat back as far as it would go, reached for Alexis and pulled her into his arms.
“I don’t want to lose you, either, Alexis. I can’t imagine that I’d ever want to let you go.”
Their lips met in a heated wave of passion that stole his breath and sent desire coursing through every part of his body. Thoughts of reality and danger and restraint vanished.
There was nothing but the sweet taste of her on his tongue and the feel of her body pressing against his.
“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.”
Tommy’s ill-timed childish mocking jerked him back to his senses. He pulled away but trailed his fingertips along Alexis’s arm until their hands clasped.
“I promise you that I’m not taking any of this lightly, Alexis. It’s my nature to joke and keep things light. It works for me. So does going at a problem full speed ahead. But I don’t ride a horse to the edge of a cliff and then yell whoa or face a grizzly with a pellet gun.
“I plan to come home from California in one piece and I’ll tell you all about it over dinner tomorrow night.”
“I could go with you,” Alexis said.
“And be arrested the second someone on the staff recognizes you. I don’t see how that can help any of us. Now, let’s go back to the camp. Damien and Emma will be arriving soon and I can’t wait for you all to meet each other.”
“A second cowboy to feed,” she teased.
“Yee-haw, ride the horsey,” Tommy sang out of the blue.
“Better make that three cowboys,” Tague said. His cell phone jangled. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID. “It’s Hampton,” he said.
“Don’t answer. It will be bad news.”
He answered anyway.
And the news was bad.
Chapter Thirteen
“Good news and bad,” Hampton said, “unless you’re Alexis Beranger. In that case, it’s all bad.”
“I hate to hear that. She seemed like a nice lady. But I’m not sure why you’re calling me about her problems.”
“I just thought you’d be interested in hearing that we’ve ID’d the two dead guys that were found in her apartment.”
“Who are they?”
“Harvey Epstein and Galen Barresi.”
“Never heard of them,” Tague said, still acting nonchalant. “What’s their relationship to Alexis?”
“They’re friends of the carjacker. Good friends, as in the kind you call on when it’s payback time.”
“So you think they went there to attack Alexis?”
“They’re not the kind of guys who drop by to paint your apartment.”
He kept his voice low while Alexis engaged Tommy in a noisy action song about bears going over a mountain. “Who killed them? Rival gang members?”
“Could be, but with the new information I have about Alexis Beranger, I’d say anything’s possible.”
“Are you going to say what that new information is or wait for me to guess?”
“I don’t think you’d have to guess, Tague. I think you were probably the first one to figure out that Alexis Beranger isn’t Alexis Beranger.”
“You lost me, Detective. Want to back up a step? If she’s not Alexis Beranger, who is she?”
“Melinda Ryan Hayden, better known as the wife who kidnapped Scott Jeffery Hayden’s son.”
“No way. She seemed so nice. I insisted she spend the night at my house. I guess I should call Mother and tell her to check for missing jewelry.”
“Don’t put me on, Tague. Aiding a known felon is a serious crime. I’m not saying you have her with you or anything like that, but if you know where she is, you need to come clean now.”
“What would happen to her if I did?”
“She’d go to jail and the kid would be returned to his father. That’s where he rightfully belongs.”
“It would seem that way,” Tague agreed. “Unless there are extenuating circumstances.”
“There are no extenuating circumstances that justify kidnapping. But that may not even be Melinda Ryan’s biggest problem.”
“There’s more?”
“One of her two deceased drop-by visitors arrived with a bottle of acid.”
“And then used it on a guy meaner than he was and didn’t live to tell about it,” Tague said. “How do
es that make things more dangerous for Alexis?”
“There is no Alexis. I’m just saying if the Death Knights find Melinda Ryan before I do, she might end up dead.”
“If I hear from her, I’ll advise her to turn herself in.”
“If you hear from her, find out where she is and call me. And then butt out of it. You’re not a police officer.”
“Exactly. So how did you discover Alexis’s true identity?”
“Fingerprints were collected from her car. All of them went through the system, hers as well as Booker Dell Collins’s. He’s been charged with carjacking and attempted kidnapping. There’s an APB out all over Texas for Melinda’s arrest.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll find her soon.”
“I hope we do—for her sake and the kid’s.”
“Did you get prints from the house so that you can identify the head bashers?”
“All I can tell you is that there were two men who walked away from the apartment. From the evidence we found, we know that one of them was big enough to be a linebacker for the Cowboys. You may be tough, Tague, but you don’t want to mess with him.”
Not without a gun.
* * *
AS MUCH AS Alexis wanted to hear everything Hampton had told Tague, she didn’t want Tommy exposed to it. Once back at the lodge, she quickly settled Tommy in the living room floor with his blocks and minicars. Then she joined Tague in the kitchen.
“I made a pot of coffee,” he said. “Would you like a cup?”
“I’d like something stronger—a lot stronger. Something that will burn all the way down my throat and I’ll feel it when it hits my stomach.”
Tague poured a shot of whiskey and set the glass in front of her.
“Are you going to make me drink alone?”
“I am tonight,” he said. “I want to be totally lucid when I explain everything to Damien. He has a good head for problem solving, and I respect his opinion. I don’t always follow it, but I respect it.”
Hopefully Damien had the good sense to tell Tague to stay away from Scott and his estate.
She sipped the whiskey and relished the burn. “What did I miss by singing through your end of the conversation with Detective Hampton?”
