by Lucy Farago
“Maybe, but she didn’t talk to her coworker about wanting to go to France.” They went over another nasty bump and this time she fell over on the seat. Lyle didn’t bother trying to help her, not that she’d want his foul hands anywhere on her.
“Is there anything else you discovered?”
She shook her head, reminding herself to stay calm. It wasn’t over until it was over. She’d taken several classes on learning to defend yourself without the use of your hands. What she needed was an opportunity to dropkick whoever held the gun whenever they got out of the car. She only prayed they wouldn’t think her much of a threat and only one of them would have a drawn weapon.
“I hope you’re telling me the truth.”
The SUV stopped. She shot a nervous glance at Dwayne, who was now getting out. He opened her door and, hooking a hand under her arm, pulled her out. She stumbled and had he not had a death grip on her bicep, she’d have fallen.
“Easy, you’ll leave bruises.”
Why did he not want bruises? Would they kill her and make it look like an accident? Would she end up like Jessie? Then she mentally slapped herself. This type of thinking would only get her killed. She had never been more grateful for her father’s incessant training. She’d been taught to shoot, to think like a cop, to fight.
She assessed her surroundings. How long had she been out? They stopped at an old outbuilding of some kind, a work shed maybe. To her left was a pasture, with a wire fence for as far as the eye could see and cattle in the distance feeding. To the right she could just make out a small creek. Were they still on the ranch?
Lyle led the way, a sign that he didn’t see her as threat. That was good.
She considered making Dwayne wish he didn’t have balls, but unless she could take out Lyle before he shot her, what would be they point? It would ruin any real chance she had of getting away.
Dwayne pushed her inside the dark, one-room building that hadn’t seen action in years. Cobwebs hung in the corners and dust covered a small workbench. In front of it sat an old cot and beside it, a wooden chair with most of its spindles gone. The two windows were shuttered closed, making the already small space hot and claustrophobic.
Lyle set the rifle down on the bench, yet another sign that he didn’t consider her dangerous. Could she reach it in time?
“Let’s see, Ms. Irvine, how honest you’ve been.”
She braced herself, ready to do some damage. When she felt the pinprick to her neck, she realized she’d made a mistake in not acting sooner. She was being drugged again. Falling to her knees, she thought of Jessie, the friend she’d lost. As her head hit the dirty wooden floor, Cowboy’s lazy smile came to her. Why hadn’t she told him she was falling in love with him when she had the chance?
She tried to open her eyes and couldn’t, but that was all right. She didn’t want to open them anyway. She wished whatever, whoever, was causing that incessant ringing would stop. She couldn’t move. Which might be a good thing. If the world didn’t stop spinning, she was going to puke. As time dragged on, the nausea subsided.
“You idiot, you gave her too much.”
Were they talking about her? Each second brought a memory. Cowboy had gone for pizza. She’d woken up with Lyle. And drugged a second time. But with something different, something worse. Eyes closed. Eyes closed. She repeated it over and over again. Through the fog she wasn’t sure why she needed time, only that they couldn’t know she was conscious.
“I gave her the same as the last one.”
“Yes, and look how well that turned out.”
Jessie, were they talking about Jessie?
“Go outside and make sure no one is coming. We’ve been here too long.”
What? How long had she been out? A door opened. A door closed. Someone paced. A door opened.
“There’s a car coming.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell.”
“What kind of car, you moron.”
“A jeep. Two men.”
“That would be my neighbor. This shed adjoins their property. They’re probably making sure no one is trespassing.” Lyle. That was Lyle’s voice.
“What should I say?”
“Did they see you?”
“They’d have seen someone, but they’re too far off to know who, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Of course it’s what I’m asking. Why the hell do I keep you around? I’ll go talk to them.”
“It’s hot in here. Can I at least open a window?” Dwayne asked.
“The back one, where they won’t see you, and for God sake, do it quietly.”
A door opened. A door closed. The fog began to lift.
*
He’d expected them to be surprised, pissed even. What he hadn’t expected was his brothers’ tears and his mother’s stunned silence. She’d stared at him for so long, he hadn’t been sure any of them had believed him. Then she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him so tight that had she been a man, she’d have cracked a rib.
“I knew it,” she’d said. “I knew I wasn’t going crazy.”
“Where they hell have you been?” Ellis, his oldest brother had demanded.
“Ease up.” Garth, the more intuitive of the pair, had known something was wrong. “Can’t you see he looks like shit?”
“I need your help.”
He’d explained as much as he could, leaving out his part in Edward’s death. That they didn’t need to know. He’d been a fucked-up kid who made bad choices and running away was simply one of them. Owning up to what he’d done might be the right thing to do, but now his focus lay in getting Grace back, safe and alive.
After nearly sixteen years of no communication, his brothers were there for him. Did absence make the heart grow fonder? Or had a fourteen-year-old kid read his family wrong? So here he was, in the back of his brother’s jeep, hiding. Of course his mother had been instrumental in getting his brothers to go along. She’d met Grace. She liked Grace. Whatever questions they’d wanted answered were shelved for later. Just like his conscience.
He hadn’t wanted to put his brothers in danger, but as the sun had started to rise there’d been no way for him to get up here without being spotted. If Lyle had Grace, and he was certain he did, then Cowboy needed their help.
The jeep stopped and Ellis and Garth got out, leaving the engine and the radio on, just like they’d planned. They jeep had no doors, so as long as his brother’s kept Lyle distracted, he’d be able to get out without being seen.
“Lyle? It’s early. What the hell are you doing out here?” Ellis asked.
He waited until he was sure his brothers had the asshole’s full attention. He could hear him feeding them some bullshit about cattle rustlers and how he’d come up to check things out. Cowboy tucked his gun into his jeans and slipped out from under the tarp and out the open door.
His brothers had assured him the area hadn’t changed much in sixteen years and the long grass would provide enough cover for him to circle to the back of the old cabin. They weren’t wrong. Which was good. Hiding a seven-foot frame wasn’t easy. The back window was open and through it he saw Dwayne. He couldn’t see her, but he knew Grace had to be inside. Did they have more men with them? He was fairly certain he could handle Lyle, but this meathead had to go first.
He waited until his brothers had finished with Lyle and driven back down the road and were out of sight. Then he made his move. The good thing about long grass in late summer, it was dry. And dry grass provided the perfect kindling. It was a risky move, one that could cause acres of land to be destroyed, but he was counting on the creek putting out the fire before it got to that. He pulled out the lighter he’d brought and lit the flame. Reluctant as Lyle was to do his own dirty work, he’d send Dwayne out to investigate.
It took a few minutes for the fire to build enough smoke to alarm Lyle. “Do you smell that?”
“Smoke?”
“No, pizza. Of course, smoke. Go outside and see what
it is.”
Circling around, he waited. The front door opened and Dwayne emerged. “The brush is on fire.”
“How in the hell… ?” Lyle stuck his head out, looking to either side of the cabin, listening. Was he wondering if it was a trap? “It can happen this time of year. Put it out before it gets any bigger.” Then he returned inside.
Cowboy considered shooting him, but as he wasn’t sure who else Lyle had with him, he decided against it. Instead he waited for Dwayne to get close enough before diving for the man’s ankles. He was outweighed by several pounds and a standing Dwayne was too much of an opponent. Dwayne hit the ground in a loud thud. To incapacitate him, Cowboy had to break his nose and make him see stars, so his next strike could take out the man’s trachea. It wouldn’t kill him, but lack of air would knock him out.
As Dwayne struggled to get up, cracking his nose was easy. Cowboy’s next punch did the trick and out Dwayne went. Cowboy guessed he should feel bad. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure he hadn’t killed him. But then he remembered Lily and, poof, there went his conscience. He pulled his gun out of his jeans and stood.
“Guess that’s what I get for hiring a moron.”
Cowboy swung around to see Lyle standing on the front stoop, a rifle aimed in his direction.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lyle spotted Cowboy’s gun. “Well, son, it would seem we are at an impasse.”
He should just shoot the son of a bitch now.
“Oh, wait,” he said. “We’re not. You see, I have your girlfriend.” He pointed his weapon inside the cabin. “Whose shot will go off first, huh? Drop the gun, or I kill her. That thing’s got nothing on my rifle anyway.”
Lyle had a point, but Cowboy needed to know what he was up against. “I want to see her.”
“Sure. Put the gun down.”
“First let me see her.” If he’d already hurt Grace, Lyle was a dead man.
The wind picked up and blew smoke in Cowboy’s face. The fire hadn’t gone out.
Lyle smiled and waved him forward as he walked backward into the cabin. Inside, he got his first look at Grace, unconscious, lying on a dirty cot. She appeared fine, just asleep. He wanted to go to her but didn’t dare. Cowboy stood in the doorway, resisting the urge to run over there and hold her, tell that he loved her and he would get her out of here.
“Look, I only want one thing from the girl, but if you’re willing to give it me, then I’ll let you both go.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Cowboy asked. Lyle had no intention of letting either of them go.
Lyle laughed. “Yeah, I guess that was dumb. How about this? She’s unconscious. Dwayne, he’s not so good with administering drugs. We’ve been stuck here waiting for her to open her eyes. You tell me what I want to know and she goes free. She’ll wake up in her hotel room none the wiser.”
He was lying. Cowboy could see it on his face. But he needed time to make another move and right now Lyle had the upper hand and the motherfucker knew it. So Cowboy played along. “She hasn’t seen you?”
“She’s seen Dwayne out there,” Lyle nodded outside. “But he had her out before I came into the picture. I don’t want to hurt her. I just need some information. If you have it, I’ll let her go.”
“And me?”
“I don’t know. I might have a place for a man like you in my organization. You’re smart. I could always use a smart man. Dwayne is dumb as pie. And his mistakes are costing me. Think about it. We got time. He gave her too much ketamine. It’ll be a while before she wakes up.”
“Ketamine? They found ketamine in Jessie Cook’s body.”
“Yeah, poor Jessie. She’s a prime example of what happens when you don’t give me what I want. I didn’t mean for her to die. I only wanted to know where her kid was.”
Had he heard right? His shock must have registered on his face because Lyle picked up on it.
“Oh, you didn’t know? Huh, maybe Ms. Irvine was telling the truth. Not good for you though,” he said. “We’ll get to that later. Isaiah is Jessie’s son. She gave him up for adoption. I figured my idiot grandson knocked her up when he was having his fun with her, and when she left town, I paid her no mind. No one knew what Edward had done and she wasn’t talking. So I let it go.”
He wasn’t going to let them go. It was better to find out everything before he killed the bastard. “You knew he’d raped her?” What else did he know?
“You can call it that if you like. After he died, I was the first one in his bedroom. I wanted to be near my grandson. I was devastated. In his closet, I found pictures of these Negros,” he said with disgust. “Including Jessie. Nearest I could tell he was following them. But I recognized two of the girls. They’d been featured on the news earlier that month. They’d been raped and killed. One in Austin, one just outside San Antonio. It didn’t make any sense, why he’d have their pictures. I refused to think of my grandson sleeping with all those black whores. So I put it out of my mind.”
The man was truly a disgusting sack of shit. And soon the world would know it.
“Then Ella was born. I was at the hospital visiting when I saw Jessie there. She turned, and for a fraction of a second I could see her swollen belly. She tried to hide it with her clothes. I’m certain her parents didn’t know, or they knew and didn’t speak of it. I mean, the preacher’s daughter knocked up.” He snorted. “Can you imagine? I’d seen her cozying up to the Danielle kid just before he ran away, so I wasn’t sure. For a while I even thought that little prick had killed my grandson. But I started to wonder if it was Edward’s bastard she was carrying. And then she left town. Maybe she killed him. I didn’t know. But as much as I wanted justice, what he’d done couldn’t come out. Not with my son running for office.”
“So you kept the secret?”
“I kept the secret. Told no one. Then Ella got sick and needed a donor. Her older brother was a match, but he died a short time later. Rocked our house to the very foundation. That day I swore I wouldn’t ever lose another grandchild. People say I’m a coldhearted bastard and I guess am, but I love my family. I’ll do anything for my family.”
Including commit murder.
“This is where you come in. Maybe now you’ll understand. Ella’s cancer has returned and William is not a match. Isaiah is.”
“How do you know that?”
He smirked. “I needed a backup plan, should Ella need it. I found that kid. Regina was living in Florida at the time. I found out who her doctor was and paid him to get me a sample of that kid’s blood. But then she moved and I lost track of them. I hadn’t known she got married and changed her name. Do you understand now? I’m trying to save my granddaughter’s life. I need that kid. Help me, and I’ll let the reporter go. Don’t help me and three people die.”
Grace, him… and Ella. His heart broke for the sixteen-year-old, and when this was over he’d do everything he could to help her, but first this had to go his way. “Jessie Cook, she wouldn’t tell you where her son was?”
“I tracked her to that paper. But she wouldn’t talk to me. It was sheer fate that our little lady here,” he nodded toward Grace, “wanted Jessie to take on the story. Her editor didn’t think she was experienced enough, but I convinced him otherwise. She wasn’t happy, I’ll tell you. But bills needed to be paid and she couldn’t do that if she was out of a job.”
That was why she’d taken the assignment; her editor had threatened to fire her.
“She wrote a real good article too. Then Dwayne fucked it up by giving her the wrong dose of ketamine. I still don’t understand how she got away from him. She was swerving all over the road by the time we caught up to her. Then along came Sally,” he sang. “I wanted to strangle that woman. Would have too if Jessie had died.”
“She hadn’t?” They’d pulled her out of the car alive?
“No. Not then. We pushed the car into the ravine and I called Rick to take care of Madeline. We told him she’d hit a tree. We were taking Jessie to another locat
ion when she died on us. She must have been busted up inside. Then I went to plan B.”
Plan B? As if a woman’s death meant nothing?
“What’s it going to be? Gonna drop that gun and we can talk? Or do I kill you right now and deal with your lady friend?” Lyle cocked the rifle, a not so subtle warning.
What choice did he have? He dropped the gun.
“You should know the police are looking for her. They’re at the ranch. They found the car you hid in the barn.”
“That’s on Rick and Madeline. Not me. The police will find Rick has disappeared and Madeline doesn’t remember the accident. Now, tell me what I want to know or you both die.” He moved closer to Grace, that damn rifle hovering over her. “At this range I don’t even have to aim.”
Without warning, smoke blew into the cabin, the wind having picked up. Lyle glanced at the door. “Looks like your fire is back. We, meaning you, should probably put that out.” He waved his hand in front of him, trying to clear the air. Lyle coughed.
It was his undoing. Grace’s foot kicked up, knocking the rifle loose in his hands. Lyle clung to it, but it was enough of a distraction for Cowboy to make his move. He leapt forward and fought for control of the weapon. He was taller, stronger, and younger but Grace’s body was too near and Lyle’s hand to close to the trigger. He yanked forward, toppling over and taking Lyle with him. He heard more coughing and through the thickening smoke saw Grace struggle to get up. But the distraction cost him. The butt of the rifle caught him in the jaw. Infuriated by his own stupidity, he bucked and threw the man off. He didn’t know how the older man managed to regain his footing so quickly but he stood and aimed his gun at Grace. Without thinking, Cowboy sprang to his feet and threw himself in front of her. Fire spread across his shoulder and down his back as a white haze threatened to knock him out. He gritted his teeth, ready to do what needed to be done to protect Grace, when another shot rang out. Then his world went black.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Unable to sit, Grace walked the long corridor. Her head pounded and she stank of smoke. She didn’t care. Until Cowboy—Austin—was out of surgery, this hospital was her home. If his brothers hadn’t returned when they had, she’d have been helpless. She’d managed to drag him to Lyle’s SUV, but getting him in had proved impossible. Sitting in the cab with Cowboy, his pale face on her lap, she’d wanted to shoot Lyle all over again. She’d been around enough cops to know killing someone, no matter how deserved, always left its mark. But now wasn’t the time. Lyle may have thought he was doing the right thing, trying to find his granddaughter a donor, but had he not been so consumed with putting his son in the White House, Ella would’ve had her match… and Jessie would be alive.
