The Payback Man

Home > Other > The Payback Man > Page 20
The Payback Man Page 20

by Carolyn McSparren


  He opened his mouth, but Eleanor raised a finger. “A simple ‘yes, Doctor’ is all you better say.”

  He met her eyes. This time she didn’t quail from the hatred she saw there.

  It was about time the inmates stopped running the asylum. She’d put up with almost anything except the mistreatment of animals. He’d probably poked at Marcus and taunted him. No real damage, but enough to sour the animal on the sight of him. “Yes, Doctor.” He tried to say it with his customary swagger, but it didn’t quite come off. She turned on her heel and saw the others melt away around the corner. She’d done the thing Gil had warned her against, and now in the cool light of returning reason she knew that she’d created a truly dangerous enemy, where before there had only been potential danger.

  She would have to watch her back. So would the others.

  “YOU DON’T LISTEN TOO GOOD,” Gil said quietly the first time he could get out of earshot of the others.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t take your advice. Not only because I can’t endure having an animal mistreated or teased, but because Marcus is big enough to kill somebody if he goes rank. He might be happy to take out his temper on any one of us if Sweet Daddy isn’t immediately available. At least Sweet Daddy’s on notice that he’d better shape up or I’ll ship him out. I’ll make a report to the warden. He can alert the COs.”

  “That’ll do about a nickel’s worth of good in a dollar economy.” Gil walked away from her. She could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was annoyed.

  At least her headache was better. All that adrenaline must have cleared out whatever was causing it. She checked her watch. She was due at the clinic in thirty minutes.

  Steve would be there. She wanted to tell him about Sweet Daddy before he got back to the compound. It wouldn’t be fair to ask Big to watch out for him. Big could get in serious trouble and Steve would be furious if he found out she’d done something like that. Should she do it anyway?

  She picked up the electric coffeepot from her cottage, stopped by the mess hall long enough to assemble the other things she’d need to keep a steady flow of hot caffeine in the team’s veins and drove to the clinic.

  Her stupid heart began to flutter at the prospect of seeing Steve. They’d be on a totally different footing here—no Selma to watch their every move. Steve would be doing what he was trained to do. He’d be treated like a human being, instead of like a prisoner.

  Her car phone rang. She jumped as she always did when she heard its nervous brap. She kept her hands on the steering wheel and answered in hands-free mode.

  “Dr. Grayson? Please hold for Mr. Vickers.”

  “Doctor?” The voice was low, rich, an actor’s voice. “Sorry to take so long to return your call. I’ve been in court.”

  “How did you get this number, Mr. Vickers?”

  “What? Oh, my secretary called your clinic. They gave it to me.”

  “I see. I’m calling about Steve Chadwick. I’m working with him at the prison farm. He’s been there several weeks now. I’ve read the transcript of his trial, and I’ve become convinced he didn’t kill his wife.”

  “I see.” Silence. “I don’t think we should have this discussion over an open line, Doctor. Are you available at—” pause “—say, ten-thirty tomorrow morning? My office?”

  “I’ll be there. Would you mind if I tried to bring Steve’s sister Mary Beth Chadwick with me?”

  “Not at all. I remember her from the trial.” He laughed shortly. “For God’s sake, don’t let the Colonel catch you. The man’s a Tartar.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “For what it’s worth, I agree with you about Steve’s innocence. I’m not certain there’s much in law we can do about it, however.”

  “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. Thanks for calling, Mr. Vickers.”

  That plumby voice again. “Please, Eleanor, call me Leslie. Everybody does.”

  As she hung up, she thought, If he agrees with me that Steve is innocent, then why isn’t he doing something about it? Why is there nothing to do? In law? Or in justice?

  Should she tell Steve? No. But she could call Mary Beth to tell her Steve would be at the clinic until five in the afternoon and ask her to come with her to her meeting with Mr. Vickers.

  When she pulled into the staff parking lot, she saw a shiny new oversize red two-horse trailer backed up to the loading-dock doors. Good. Business.

  But first she had to find Steve. She had to see him, to warn him. But mostly simply to see him.

  Hoping to be able to go directly to Mark’s office, she slipped in the side door beside the cattle holding pen. No doubt that was where they’d put Steve so he could work on the computer system.

  “Eleanor, thank God you’re here!” Rick Hazard stood at the back door of the horse trailer. From inside came the rhythmic sounds of an angry horse fiercely trying to kick his way out.

  “What’s the problem?” So much for finding Steve.

  “It’s that young stallion of Abel Neyland’s. Abel thinks he’s broken a sesamoid from jackassing around in the pasture this morning. He went out sound and came in on three legs. Abel had to sedate him to get him loaded, but whatever he used has worn off. If he keeps on the way he’s going, he’ll break all four of his legs and his neck, too.”

  “Where’s Jack? He can handle any horse on the planet.”

  “Gone home with a bad cold. Mac’s operating, Sarah’s off duty, Bill is down at the zoo working on a siamang gibbon, and Liz is down at Mississippi State on her opthamology course. Abel says that stallion’s been in pasture. He’s only two and hasn’t been handled much, and he’s never been in a trailer before.” Rick listened to the metallic noise a moment. “He doesn’t like it.”

  Eleanor took a deep breath. Rick wasn’t comfortable around bad-tempered horses. He’d go into that trailer and face the beast if he had to, but given his choice, he’d prefer to send someone with what he called “greater rapport” to unload the horse.

  “Where’s Abel?”

  “At the front desk filling in the forms to give us permission to operate.”

  “Big?”

  “Mopping the kennels, I think.”

  “And Steve?”

  “Last I saw of him he was hunched over Mark’s computer.”

  “Okay. Is there a stall ready for the stallion?”

  “Abel called ahead to tell us he was coming, so we got one ready. Mac can do the surgery if you’ll assist, but we’ve got to get that youngster out of that trailer in one piece first.”

  “I’m considerably more concerned about keeping us in one piece. Buzz Alva Jean, tell her to send Big and Steve out here. Big’s a natural with animals, and Steve knows horses. With Abel we should be able to handle whatever this two-year-old throws at us.”

  Rick sighed. “Thanks. That means I can go back to work. Egg Roll has just acquired a mate.”

  “Judy bought another potbellied pig? Where does she keep them?”

  “In the house, so she says. Anyway, she’s bringing Char Shu over for shots and an exam. She’s still pretty young, but Judy says she’s a handful.”

  “As if Egg Roll weren’t. What is Judy going to do when she winds up with a dozen piglets?”

  “More clients for us,” Rick said.

  “All right, you’re excused.”

  Rick almost ran from the room. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll send Steve and Big.”

  Eleanor walked to the front of the trailer. It looked as though it would be large enough at the front to give her room to stand in front of the stallion and yet be out of biting range. He was only two. How bad could he be? She opened the front side door as quietly as possible, planning just to stick her head in to see what they were dealing with.

  The big teeth followed by the striking left front hoof missed her face by inches. She slammed the door as the stallion began to scream with fury. “Oh, brother. He must be seventeen hands tall at least. Some two-year-old.”

  Two maddened male ani
mals in one day was more than enough. She sat on the back bumper of the truck that had towed the trailer. Then she walked over to the wall phone and buzzed Rick.

  “Where does Bill keep his capture pistol?”

  “Huh?”

  “I know that darting a horse isn’t the best idea, but I might be able to get enough tranquilizer into the muscle in his rump to calm him down a little, then I can slip in and give him the real intravenous shot in his neck.”

  “You ever dart a horse before?” Rick sounded worried.

  “Once. With Jerry, right after we’d started practicing.”

  “Successfully?”

  “Jerry shot so many darts into his rear end that he looked like a pincushion. He still managed to stagger all over that pasture and stay just out of reach for half an hour. A cow would have keeled over and gone to sleep like a baby after the first dart.”

  “So maybe it’s not such a good idea.”

  “Got any better ones? We’ll try the regular way first. Here comes Abel. Talk to you later. I hope.”

  “He’s not usually this bad,” Abel said without preliminary. “He’s in a lot of pain and he hates confinement, and he’s so damned big he gets away with murder. My grooms are scared of him and he knows it. I’m supposed to be sending him off to my trainer next month for basic training. Or I was.”

  “With luck you still will. And with a lot better manners than he had when he came.”

  Abel laughed. “You planning on a lobotomy along with the sesamoid?”

  “Trust me.” She turned as Big and Steve walked into the room.

  Her heart lifted at the sight of Steve. He’d been in good physical shape before, but now his shoulders looked broader, his step lighter, and his eyes were alive in a way she hadn’t seen before. She longed to go throw her arms around him. He’d respond, she was sure of it.

  But not now. She explained the problem.

  “I know where Dr. Bill keeps his pistol,” Big said. “And the dart things.” He trotted off without further instruction.

  “How’d you get him loaded into the trailer in the first place?” Eleanor asked Abel while they waited.

  “Hit him with a small shot of tranquilizer. Should have lasted a lot longer. His metabolism must be sky-high.”

  “He’s settling down,” Steve said. The noise from the trailer had largely subsided.

  “Don’t trust him,” Abel said. “He’s saving up.”

  “Here’s Dr. Bill’s stuff.” Big carefully handed Eleanor a heavy revolver and a cardboard box with shells and darts. “I ain’t supposed to touch guns.” He blushed and glanced at Abel.

  “I’m sorry, Big, that never occurred to me,” Eleanor said. “But this one uses tranquilizer darts, not bullets.”

  “Dr. Bill said all you got to do is change the cylinder and it shoots real bullets.”

  “Oh. I don’t know much about guns, I’m afraid. I hope we don’t have to use this one. Big, are you game to try to hold his head long enough for me to give him a shot in his neck?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Somewhere we’ve got a horse muzzle, but I have no idea where. We really need a better control system.”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” Steve said cheerfully. “So far I haven’t found any entries for ‘muzzle, horse, teeth, avoidance of.’”

  He was a different person. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was actually happy.

  “Then it’s up to Big and me. Steve, will you and Abel get ready to open the back doors of the trailer and let down the butt chain when we tell you we’re ready to back him out?”

  “At your service.”

  “Stand way back,” Abel said. “He’s got some kind of range on those hind hooves.”

  Big and Eleanor opened both front doors of the trailer at the same time so that they’d have easy access to get out if things went awry. This time the youngster stared from one to the other. His coat was slick with sweat, and white foam covered his shoulders. He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t snap at them.

  “He’s broken the tie line to the front. That’s why he nearly got me the first time. I didn’t realize his head was completely free. Big, I don’t suppose you could hold on to his halter long enough for me to shoot him with the tranquilizer, could you? You’d have to hold him fairly still, otherwise I won’t be able to hit the vein.”

  “Yes’m. Now, you big ol’ boy, just you calm on down now. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you. Doc here’s gonna fix you right up, ain’t you, Doc?” He extended one of his huge arms, wrapped his hand around the side piece of the stallion’s halter, and climbed in.

  It took a second for the horse to realize that somebody had him. By that time it was too late to do much about it. Big talked to him and stroked his nose. Eleanor could see the horse straining against the tension with his whole body weight, but Big held on tight.

  She found the vein, popped in the needle, followed it with the syringe, then backed out.

  “Okay, Big. See if you can get out of there without getting yourself hurt.”

  “No’m. I believe I’ll just stand here a while till he’s quiet. Would that be okay?”

  Eventually the horse settled, was unloaded and limped into a stall with no further problems. Big went with him every step of the way.

  “Hey, you want to come work for me?” Abel asked after they’d closed the stall door on the stallion.

  “Can’t, sir.”

  “Not for at least six months,” Eleanor said. “And we’re not about to let him leave the clinic without a fight.”

  “Man who knows horses like that—can’t find ’em much anymore.”

  As he drove away, Big turned to Eleanor. “I don’t know much about horses. How come he thinks I do?”

  “Because of the way you handled that colt,” Steve said.

  “Oh. That wadn’t nothin’. Can I get on back to the kennel? Nancy’s got me working with them pit bulls.”

  “How’s the little brindle female?”

  Big’s face broke into smiles. “She’s real sweet and gentle. She does just about anything I ask her.”

  “In or out of her cage?”

  Big looked confused. “Out.”

  Eleanor sighed. “I should have guessed. Go on. And thank you.” She turned to Steve. “And thank you.”

  Together they walked down the hall to her office.

  “Wadn’t nothing, as Big says. You’re pretty feisty for a girl.”

  “Hey, I’m no girl. I’m a woman.”

  “I’ve noticed.” He stopped on the threshold of her office as though unwilling to invade her space further. “You have no idea how I’ve noticed.”

  She faced him. Their eyes held.

  STEVE KNEW he should go back to his computer. It was his only safe course of action.

  A moment earlier they had been bantering like casual friends.

  In an instant the tension became unbearable. All he could think about was that kiss—that time his lips had tasted hers, the sweetness that had so quickly flared into passion.

  He had to touch her again, hold her, feel her lips against his once more, the warmth of her body as it fitted against his.

  In three years he had almost forgotten the soft warmth of a woman’s touch. He had been locked in an angular, unyielding universe where even his heart went armed.

  The look in her eyes stripped him and left him soul-naked.

  He stepped across the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him, then came to her with outstretched hands.

  Her gaze still held his, but he wasn’t certain what he read. Was she still afraid of him?

  He took her hands and drew her forward. She sighed, closed her eyes and raised her face to his. He kissed her temple, her eyelids, and then her lips, trying this time to keep a firm grip on his passion.

  Not easy. Not easy at all, as she opened to him, tasted him as he tasted her, setting off hot flares along his nerve endings, which seemed to explode faster than he could control them.
>
  In seconds, her kiss became demanding, fierce. Her fingers bit into the muscles of his shoulders, her hips moved against his and she whispered his name against his lips.

  At the very verge of the abyss he broke the kiss, but still held her close. “Do you know the danger you’re in right now?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “We’re finally alone, with nobody and nothing to interfere, to stop us.”

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  He kissed her again, only this time the kiss was gentle, the brushing of lips that deepened slowly as their lips parted, their tongues intertwined.

  As his palm swept over her breast, she sighed and whispered his name. Her voice sent shivers of desire through him. His hands slid down to her waist. He longed to touch her, stroke her until she lay warm beneath him, as hungry for him as he was for her.

  His lips slid down to the open throat of her shirt, then lower.

  Suddenly he clenched his fists and forced himself to turn away from her.

  “Steve?” The way she whispered his name sent daggers of desire through him.

  “I know what I’m doing,” he said, “and I know it’s dangerous for both of us. Do you?”

  “Lock the door.” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her.

  He caught his breath and did as she asked.

  She came to him, pressed her body against his. “Yes. Yes, I know.”

  He picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He laid her on the desk. He’d wanted moonlight and magnolias when he made love to her, but suddenly all that mattered was to be joined, to feel her warm beneath him, surrounding him, moving with and for him. His fingers sought the zipper of her jeans as hers sought his belt buckle.

  “Please, please,” she repeated. He could feel her palms on his naked hips, her fingernails digging into his skin.

  “Wait. One danger I can save you from.” Prisoners were issued condoms as a matter of course. He’d never used his, but now he was grateful for it.

 

‹ Prev