by Joanna Wayne
She knew Jackson was right about that, yet Esther had seemed so sure and didn’t seem the type who’d spare herself from the truth no matter how painful.
“Esther has offered to rent me a room, or rather, she’s offered to rent Syd Cotton a room.”
“Are the facilities adequate?”
“More than adequate.”
“Then by all means you should take her up on that. Spend time with her. Learn all you can. The Bureau will pick up the tab. Who else lives in the house?”
“No one, although she has a guest now, a man she was foster mother to some years back.” Sydney explained the connection to the Lawrence brothers.
“Sounds like you’ll be in good hands at the Double K Ranch.”
Being in good hands was the last thing she needed now. She had no choice but to level with Jackson Clark.
“I really appreciate the opportunity to work with you and the other members of the team and with the local authorities, but I have to turn you down.”
His eyebrows arched. “You asked to be included.”
“I thought it was what I wanted, but I understand now why it’s a bad idea to have someone personally involved working on a case.”
“Care to explain?”
“I have to do this my way, not with my hands tied by the FBI or by local law enforcement.”
“Whether you’re official or on your own, you can’t just go out and ignore the laws,” Jackson said. “Do that and you’ll never work for the Bureau again.”
“If that’s what it takes to save my sister’s life, so be it. But I do still have all the rights of a private citizen.”
“You have more than that,” Jackson said. “And you drive a damn hard bargain. I want you on the team. We need you on the team. And you need access to our resources.”
“I don’t want to feel like I’m an outsider looking in,” she said. “Rachel’s my sister. I need some autonomy.”
“You’ve got it. Now just pretend I’m the boss and let’s find this perp and put him away.”
“You are the boss,” she said. “And thanks.”
“If you’ve got a few more minutes, I’d like to hear even more about your sister, Rachel, and her job as a defense attorney. I don’t want to assume she’s the victim of a serial abductor and overlook a murderous felon she’s come across in her work.”
“A very good point,” she agreed. Jackson took extensive notes as they talked.
By the time Sydney checked her watch it was a half hour past seven. She’d missed her deadline for making the call to Tucker. Probably for the best. Just the fact that she wanted to see him proved it was a bad idea.
Chapter Eight
Tucker dropped in Caffe’s Bar and Grill a few minutes after six. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a draft beer. He wasn’t expecting a call this early from Syd. Actually, he didn’t really expect her to call at all.
Worse, he wasn’t sure why he cared. Not that she wasn’t gorgeous and fascinating, but he didn’t know where his life was going in the immediate future. It would be the worst time ever to get involved in a new relationship.
He shifted on his stool to get a better look at the TV off to the left of the bar. The sound was muted but the captions below the picture made it clear they were talking about the body of the murdered girl found practically in the neighborhood.
Then the screen skipped to a shot of Rachel Maxwell, the San Antonio attorney last seen in Winding Creek a little over a week ago.
The peaceful, small town was grabbing headlines again. Which likely explained why the place was full on a Tuesday night. He scanned the room and figured about half of the customers were reporters.
The waitress set his beer in front of him. He took a sip and his mind went back to his own dilemma. Either show up for the competition in Tulsa next Friday or lose his momentum and reduce his chances to make it to the championship rounds in Vegas come December.
Images of Rod’s head being repeatedly stamped into the hard dirt floor of the arena darted through his mind. On an incredible high one moment, the cheering crowd, the heightening danger, the thrill of winning against terrific odds.
Seconds later, it was all gone forever.
Tucker struggled to shove the thoughts out of his mind as he finished his beer. By seven o’clock the restaurant section was starting to clear out. The locals ate early.
The bar was more crowded than ever.
He checked his phone to be certain he hadn’t missed Sydney’s call. He hadn’t. He dropped money for his drink and a generous tip on the bar and surrendered his bar stool to the next thirsty customer.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d come back to Winding Creek now. He hadn’t mentioned Rod’s death to his brothers, and apparently, no one else had, either.
Winding Creek had its own hurricane of news hitting right now.
He ended up at Hank’s, where he took the same table he’d sat at last night. The bar was jumping tonight. He glanced over to the table where Syd had been sitting last night. Three guys in dark-colored slacks and white shirts unbuttoned at the neck were sipping martinis. Almost certainly not locals.
The same waitress he’d had last night stopped by for his order. “Let’s see. Jack Daniel’s, wasn’t it. Over ice.”
“Good memory,” he said. “Two shots.”
“Do you remember that woman who was in here last night. Sandy-haired blonde. Sitting by herself. Really attractive. She came over and talked to you before she left.”
“I remember. What about her?”
“I think she’s an undercover cop. She showed me a picture of a woman and asked if I’d seen her in here.”
“Had you?” Tucker asked.
“No, but I know who the woman in the picture was now. She’s Rachel Maxwell, the attorney from San Antonio who they keep talking about and showing her picture on the news.”
“You could be right.”
“What’s really scary is that if Rachel Maxwell was in here right before she disappeared, the man who kidnapped her might have been in here, too,” the waitress said. “He might have abducted her from the parking lot. I mean, if that’s the case, it could have just as easily been me.”
He couldn’t argue that. “You should have the bouncer walk you to your car tonight.”
She nodded. “I’m going to do just that. Still, it’s super scary.”
If Betts was right, it also meant that Syd had been lying to all of them today.
His cell phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID.
Number Unavailable.
He took it anyway.
“Hello.”
“Hi, it’s Syd Cotton. I know it’s late but I wanted to let you know that I didn’t forget. I had to work later than expected. Is it too late to take you up on your dinner invitation?”
“Not at all.” He wouldn’t miss this conversation for the world.
* * *
SYDNEY FRESHENED UP as well as she could in the bathroom at the fishing cabin before driving straight to Caffe’s. The area was so crowded tonight she had to park near Dani’s bakery and walk around the corner to the restaurant.
As soon as she entered, she spotted Tucker seated alone at a table near the center of the large, open serving area. He waved.
Anxiety balled in her stomach. She had to face him with the truth after feeding him her fake persona. He hadn’t trusted her originally; now she’d prove his suspicions true. He’d be angry, and inexplicably that bothered her far more than it should.
If he gave her the opportunity, she’d level with him. And then they’d go their separate ways likely to never see each other again.
Tucker stood and held her chair while she sat down. With Texas men, especially cowboys, manners never went out of vogue.
He picked up his menu. “Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly,” she admitted. The only thing she’d eaten since the breakfast croissant at Dani’s Delights was a small pack of chips she’d washed down with a diet soda hours earlier.
That didn’t mean her stomach was up to digesting food.
“Can we talk before we order?” she asked.
“Sure.” He stared at her, his eyes burning into hers with an intensity that made her hands grow clammy. “Why don’t we start with your explaining why you lied about why you’re in Winding Creek?”
He knew. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry for the lies. They seemed necessary at the time.”
“Right. What’s a few lies to a reporter looking for a story?”
Now she was starting to get angry. The anger collided with all the fears, doubts and dread churning inside her. Her nerves were raw. She was losing control of the emotions she’d fought so hard to keep in check.
“I’m an FBI agent, Tucker. I was doing my job. I’ll explain if you let me, or I can just go. Whichever works best for you.”
“I’d love to hear what you have to say.”
His tone had softened as well as his hardened expression. He must sense how frail her control was at this point. She struggled for the most concise way to respond. “I was officially working undercover for the Bureau, investigating the recent murder and the disappearance of women from this area.”
“If you’re undercover, why are you telling me this now? Why meet me here at all unless... Are you targeting someone in my family?”
“No. This isn’t about your family, Tucker. It’s about mine.” Her voice shook on the admission.
He reached across the table and laid his much-larger hands on top of hers. The kindness was harder to handle than his coldness had been. Never had she felt so vulnerable.
Jumbled words began to tumble from her mouth. “My sister is missing. No one has seen her. They can’t find her car. She’s held prisoner. Or maybe she’s dead.”
She’d said it and now she felt as if someone was slashing her heart to shreds.
“Let’s get out of here,” Tucker said, assuming control as she was losing it.
She nodded, struggling to hold back the tears that were pressing hard against her eyelids. He left some bills on the table and took her arm, maneuvering her through the maze of tables and out the front door.
The tears began to fall as he led her to his truck and opened the passenger door for her. He hurried to the other side, slid under the wheel and snaked his arm around her.
Her head fell against his shoulders as any chance of calmness vanished. Sobs racked her body. She didn’t try to fight them now. If she had, the heartbreaking emotions would have exploded inside her chest.
He was still holding her when the tears finally ran out. She pulled away, suddenly embarrassed at her show of weakness.
“Thanks for holding me somewhat together,” she murmured. “I don’t recall ever being such a train wreck.”
“You had that one coming. My attitude certainly didn’t help, either.”
He started the truck engine.
“Where are we going? My car is just around the corner. I can walk to it.”
“Your car is fine where it is for now. We’re going to your motel to pick up your things, and then I’m taking you to the Double K Ranch. You need to unwind with some comfort food and a good, strong drink.”
“I can get that back inside the Caffe’s Grill.”
“Too noisy. You also need a comfortable bed in a quiet environment. Have you had an hour of sound sleep since you learned about your sister?”
“Sure. Maybe two hours. But I’m not sure I’m up to going through why I’m really in town with Esther tonight.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll take care of that.”
“What makes you think she’d want me there once she finds out I’m on a mission to track a dangerous criminal?”
“You’re on a mission to save your sister and others. Esther has the biggest heart in the world. She’ll not only empathize, she’ll do anything she can to help you.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “So will I, Sydney. All you have to do is let me.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” she reminded him.
“I’ve had a change of plans.”
“Because you think I can’t handle this alone?”
“No. You have twice the courage I do. Maybe I’ll learn something from you.”
She didn’t believe that for a moment and it wouldn’t change a thing if she did. She had to go this alone. But the meltdown had been real. She had to have at least a few hours’ sleep if she was to remain sharp and focused.
Too tired to argue and not sure she wanted to, she was relieved the decision had been made for her. She’d be spending tonight on the Double K Ranch.
* * *
SYDNEY EXPLAINED THE full situation to Tucker as he drove her to the ranch. How and when she’d found out her sister was missing. How the last place Rachel had left a paper trail was in Dani’s Delights. Why she’d tried to make conversation with him that first night at Hank’s.
Tucker was a good listener, quick on the uptake. A nice guy from a great family. More reason why she couldn’t drag Esther or any of the Lawrences into this investigation.
Whenever a killer was involved, so was danger that reached out in all directions.
By the time they were approaching the gate to the Double K Ranch, Tucker was concluding a call to Esther to let her know that Syd was with him and would be staying in one of the guest rooms tonight.
He apologized for waking her and encouraged her not to get up. They could talk in the morning.
Sydney couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but from Tucker’s responses, she’d guess that Esther was pleased.
Tucker concluded the call and stopped at the gate.
“That was easy enough,” he said. “Esther has already put out clean towels and soaps and turned down the sheets in her patio suite, as she calls it.”
“She still thinks I’m doing a travel article. She deserves to know the real reason I’m staying under her roof.”
“No point in getting into all of that tonight. She said she’d leave it to me to show you to your room, unless we need her.”
“I suppose that is better than confronting her with the details about Rachel tonight. I’m glad she doesn’t feel she has to get up and welcome me.”
“I suspect there’s a bit of deviousness in her decision to leave us on our own.”
“Esther, devious? In what way?”
“You’ll figure it out. Now, how about jumping out and unlatching the gate for me? Passenger’s chore. Part of the cowboy code.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sydney hopped out of the truck, unlatched the gate and swung it open, stepping carefully across the cattle gap. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, tossing a few strands onto her face. The air smelled of fresh-mowed hay and the honeysuckle that grew in trailing clumps across the barbwire fence.
She breathed deeply, sucking in the fragrances and the sounds that surrounded her. Katydids, the howl of coyotes off in the distance, a horse neighing.
A sudden wave of confidence swept through her. She was a trained FBI agent and woman on a mission. There was no time for wallowing in fear or dread. All her energy had to be spent on finding Rachel.
Evidently the hard bout of sobs in Tucker’s arms had functioned like a release valve, relieving the pressure before she exploded and became useless in the investigation.
Suddenly she was starving.
T
ucker drove through the gate and she closed and latched it again before climbing back into the truck with new fervor.
He gunned the engine and they kicked up a cloud of dust as they raced down the dirt road to the house.
Hold on, Rachel. With a little help from Tucker Lawrence, I’m coming as fast as I can.
* * *
TUCKER TENDED THE thick slices of bacon, turning them, while Sydney sliced a juicy, ruby-red tomato, no doubt fresh from Esther’s summer garden.
He checked the fridge for condiments. “Do you want anything on yours besides the BLT and mayo?”
“Just bread,” she said.
“White or wheat?”
“Wheat, if Esther has it.”
He checked the bread canister. “You’re in luck.”
Bringing her here had been the right thing to do. There had been no more tears. The speed with which she’d pulled herself together after her crying frenzy was amazing.
She was a strong woman. It would take that to be in her line of work. But now it was her sister in danger and the strain of that could take down the strongest. He’d seen what emotional strain could do to a man many times on the circuit. A divorce. A family illness. Seeing a rider sustain a serious injury.
Any distraction could rob a man of the competitive edge. A bull rider could hit bottom in a matter of weeks.
His thoughts took a downturn and once again he was back in the hospital, staring into Rod’s cold, blank stare as the last of life escaped his jerking body.
Rod, like Tucker, had known his choice of career involved risk, but then, so did many other professions. Just being alive involved risk.
Sydney scooted between him and the range and speared a slice of bacon from the grease and onto a paper-towel-lined plate.
“Falling down on my job,” Tucker said. “Sorry about that.”
“You looked deep in thought. You’re not having regrets, are you?” she asked. “You can always drive me back to the motel, just not before I devour my sandwich.”
“I have a world of regrets,” Tucker said, “but not about you being here.”
“In that case, you keep the bacon from burning and I’ll toast the bread.”
