His gaze jerked to hers. Heat and longing radiated from the dark depths of his brown eyes. He cleared his throat. “Having you here, helping, has meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for, Carson. Your support these past few months has meant the world to me.”
One dark brow rose. “Is that all we are to each other, Susan? Friends?” The deliberate use of her real name, though spoken softly, sent a shiver racing through her. She wanted to believe his passion, his desire for her, was something more than a passing fancy. Surely she knew his character, if not his heart, by now.
Heat rose in her face. She lowered her eyes to their joined hands. “No, we’re much more than friends.” She didn’t intend to hedge or be coy. It wasn’t in her nature. She’d not learned to play those games and didn’t intend to explore the art now. She raised her head and met his gaze. “Aren’t we?”
His growl rumbled softly from his chest. “Damned right.”
“Hey, Carson,” George called from the kitchen.
Carson frowned at the interruption, but turned. “Be right there.” He stood. Her hand still in his, he pulled her to her feet. Closing the short distance between them, he cupped her cheek. “We’re going to settle this tonight.”
Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest. “Yes. Tonight.” Fearing he’d kiss her in front of his customers, she took a step back and smiled. “Hans and I are going for a walk.”
His hands dropped to cup her elbows possessively as if willing her to stay.
“It’s been a month with no sign of him.”
“I don’t know…”
“We’ll be fine.” Hans would alert her to any possible danger. “I can’t stay cooped up any longer, Carson.” She shrugged into her coat and patted both pockets. “I have my cell phone and my pistol.”
Brows drawn together in a frown, he studied her. His attention drifted to Hans, lying on the rug beside the front door. He patted his leg. “Hans.”
The dog rose and trotted over to sit in front of Carson, who voiced several commands Hans answered with a woof. Carson touched her cheek. “Be careful.”
****
A knit cap pulled down to cover her ears, Susan zipped her jacket against the cold March air. Rather than put on gloves, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. She set a brisk pace and headed in a roundabout direction toward the abandoned motel. Over the past month, she and Carson had walked often, their route becoming a delineated pathway.
Susan watched Hans. Gone was the playful dog that had chased rabbits. He was all business, staying fifty yards ahead of her and occasionally stopping to lift his nose to the breeze. A true professional, the dog trotted in a zigzag pattern back and forth across the trail, stopping here and there to sniff the ground. He took his job seriously.
Though the snow had melted, small patches hid beneath shrubs, waiting for the sun to melt it away. In another month, the dry desert would awaken and signs of life would push their way through the packed earth. Plants would put on leaves and cacti would flower, adding color beneath the blue sky.
Dewayne’s lack of attack was confusing. He’d never been one to let slights or wrongs go unpunished. He believed in evening the score. The longer he stayed away the more her stress increased. She was ready for the conflict to be over so she could go on with her life—if she had a life to worry about.
Tonight, Carson had said. The sensuous timbre of his voice had revealed his degree of want and determination. Yes, tonight she would tell him she loved him. No doubt they’d make love, but she wouldn’t stay the night. She didn’t want to be with him if Dewayne broke in. She wouldn’t put him in danger. Susan couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to Carson.
Susan’s breath warmed the air in front of her face but not enough to warm her cheeks. The zippy weather invigorated her, and she lengthened her stride, making the muscles in her buttocks pull. She’d exercised more since coming to Siesta than she had since her teen years. Her body thrived on the activity. She slept well and had loads of energy. Her work flourished, also. Her client list had grown, and their websites kept her busy during the day. Of course, every free moment she spent with Carson. Much of that time they spent perusing his grandfather’s papers. If only they could find a clue to unlock the mystery of his great-grandfather’s hidden treasure…
Susan was almost to the abandoned motel, its caved-in roofs and ramshackle cottages stark against the azure backdrop of the sky. What had it been like in its heyday? Many such establishments along Route 66 had grown from mere overnight camping spots for weary travelers. Some provided no facilities, just a place to pull off the road, while a few had restrooms with showers. Regardless, they were a place to rest, build a fire and cook a meal, and visit with others on the road. She’d love to travel back in time and sit around the campfire with them, hear their stories.
Hans halted twenty yards up the trail, his snout lifted to the breeze, his attention fixed on the buildings ahead. What had caught his interest?
Light glanced off an object on the roof nearest them. Before she could react, Hans turned and moved in a blur of fur. He leapt into the air and flew, his paws catching her in the chest and knocking her to the ground just as a gunshot rang out. Her head hit a rock, and she lay there stunned, crushed under the weight of the large dog.
Chapter Seventeen
Carson chuckled at Joe’s antics. The big biker, tattooed arms bare even in this cold weather, entertained Gina with his tales of exploits during his years on the road. Carson had no doubt some of the outrageous tales were true, but Joe embellished the truth. He often played the buffoon, but in truth, he was as smart as they came. His street-smart savvy served him well in a variety of situations. He was a good man to cover your back in times of trouble. They’d served in Afghanistan together back in the early 1990s, before Carson joined the force, and Joe had saved Carson’s hide on more than one occasion.
Joe winked at him over Gina’s head. Carson shook his own and went back to scrubbing the counter, his mind returning to Susan as it had every sixty seconds or so since she’d left. He shouldn’t have let her go alone. The woman was stubborn, had a mind of her own, which he appreciated. He’d never liked clinging, needy women. Damn woman wouldn’t even commit to him until this ordeal was over…if it was ever over. If they didn’t catch or kill the oily bastard, he’d keep coming back like a cold sore lying dormant until you least expected it to crop up.
The echo of a rifle report startled him. Shoulders tense, he turned to Joe, hoping the sound had been his imagination. The startled expression on his friend’s face erased the thought from his mind. Carson dropped the rag and rushed to the back door, Joe on his heels.
He pulled his Sig Sauer from his hidden waist holster as he ran. Please, God, don’t let me be too late. Why had he let Susan go alone? She was an independent woman but would have listened to reason if he’d pushed the point. Would her death be another mistake to add to his conscience and haunt his dreams?
Susan liked to walk their circular route. From the amount of time she’d been gone, he calculated she’d be near the old motor court. Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream, setting his senses on alert. The day was clear. He searched the horizon, looking for signs of Susan or Holt. A figure’s head rose above the scrub brush. It was Holt, his attention trained on them. Dammit! They’d been spotted. Carson’s military and police training kicked in. He signaled to Joe, and they widened the space between them and crouched low.
****
Susan lay stunned, flat on her back, her head throbbing from where it had struck the hard ground. A heavy weight lay atop her chest. Dang! What had happened? She lifted her head to see Hans stretched out on top of her. She wrinkled her nose at his stinky breath and the dirty odor of his coat. It’s time for a bath, buddy.
Reality hit. Hans! Dewayne shot him. She folded her arms around the animal and gasped with relief to feel his rapid pants. She stroked his side and whispered, “Lie still, boy. Play dead.” Maybe he�
�d think he got them both.
Susan slipped the .38 revolver from her coat pocket and eased it under her right leg within easy reach. The sound of running footsteps drawing nearer alerted her to Dewayne’s approach. Eyes closed, she tried to let her body go slack and pretend unconsciousness. No doubt he’d be able to see her erratic breathing under the animal. Willing it to slow, she waited.
This is it, Susan. Your chance to kill the man who beat you senseless, scarred your face, and caused all the grief you’ve suffered. The death of Lauren. Hate boiled inside and steadied her nerves. Slow breath, wait…let him think you’re dead or at least unconscious.
The sounds of Dewayne’s footsteps slowed, and then stopped. His harsh breathing was the only sound on the desert air. Evidently he hadn’t kept in shape and his run had winded him. Slight noises rustled from another direction. His position had shifted. Damn, he was suspicious and approaching cautiously. She forced herself to keep her eyes closed and still.
Cold steel touched her forehead. She popped her eyes open and allowed her gaze to travel up the length of the rifle barrel. She stared at the grinning face of her archenemy, only he was no longer the handsome man she’d known. His face wasn’t badly scarred, but the lack of eyebrows and lashes made his cold eyes radiate even more malice. The dark-rimmed glasses with their thick lenses tripled the size of the blue orbs.
“Can’t fool me, bitch! You were always good at playing possum.” He nudged Hans with his boot.
The dog whined but didn’t attempt to move.
Susan feared he was severely wounded, else he’d already have attacked Dewayne. From the amount of warm wetness seeping into her clothes, he was bleeding badly and the wound needed immediate attention for him to survive.
“Get up,” Dewayne ordered.
Play for time, Susan. Carson has to have heard the gunshot and will be on his way. She pretended to try to ease Hans off her. “I can’t. He’s too heavy.”
The sound of a hammer being pulled back drew her eyes to Dewayne’s left hand and a .45 revolver. He aimed for Hans’s head. “Either move the damn dog or I’ll make sure he’s dead.”
“No! I’ll try harder.” If only she could ease her hand back under her for the gun before Dewayne could follow through on his threat. Her fingers inched toward her leg.
“I mean it, Susan. He’s just a mangy animal.”
Shouts rang out across the desert from the direction of the Siesta Motel. Carson. And thank God he wasn’t alone.
With a booted foot, Dewayne rolled Hans off her. He pocketed the revolver and with his left hand grabbed the front of her jacket and yanked her up. Her hand fumbled for her .38 but she stumbled and dropped it. She cried out in frustration.
A bullet whizzed past Dewayne’s head. He cursed and dragged her along toward the abandoned buildings.
“Susan! Down!” Carson’s voice carried across the distance. Remembering her training, she dropped to the dirt, breaking Dewayne’s grasp on her. The loose rocks scraped her hands and knees.
Dewayne stopped and bent to grab her. His head jerked up at the sound of gunfire. Bullets flew past his head. He ducked and hunched his shoulders. “I’ll get you, Susan,” he shrieked as he turned and ran.
Susan scrambled back for her revolver. She rose to her knees, took aim and fired. “Take that, you sorry son-of-a-bitch.” She aimed for his back. “Run, you coward!”
He stumbled. Had she hit him? He glanced over his shoulder to see her taking aim again, ducked his head, and broke into a shuffling run.
She shot the remaining four rounds in her Smith and Wesson but missed him.
More voices joined Carson’s. “She got him,” hollered one of the men.
Carson dropped to the dirt beside her, hands gripping her shoulders. “Oh, God. You’re covered in blood?” His hands skimmed her body, checking for wounds, while George and Joe continued to chase after Dewayne.
“No, no. This is Hans’s blood.” She gingerly touched the back of her head. It was sore, but no skin was broken.
“Thank God.” He held her close, his breath warm against her hair.
“But…” Her voice broke. “Hans is hurt pretty bad.”
Jaw rigid, he rose and pulled her to her feet. They hurried to Hans and dropped beside him. Carson’s hands roamed lovingly over the animal and carefully turned him to expose a bleeding hole in his abdomen. Voice thick with held-in emotion, Carson crooned, “It’s going to be okay, boy. We’ll get you to the doc.” He rubbed Hans’s head. “You did a fine job, boy. You protected Susan.”
Hans, his breathing rapid, whined and licked Carson’s hand. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he quieted. Carson felt for a pulse and breathed, “He’s still alive.”
George and Joe returned. “Sorry, Carson, he got in that little car and hightailed it out of here. Cut across the field to the interstate. Didn’t even take the main road.” Joe guffawed. “Bet his tires will be a mess and he won’t get far.”
George dropped beside them and touched Hans. “Ah, man. He’s not dead, is he?”
Carson shrugged out of his jacket. “No, but he could die at any minute. I need to get him to the vet. Help me slide him onto my jacket.”
When Hans was wrapped up, Carson lifted the bundle and carried him back to the café. Susan held the truck door while he slid in with Hans cradled against his chest. She climbed behind the wheel and, throwing gravel, sped off toward Siesta and the veterinary clinic. George had called ahead, and Dr. Juarez had the surgery ready.
Joe had contacted the police, and a manhunt was underway. Undoubtedly Dewayne would need medical care; their bullets had hit him at least once. If he turned up at an area hospital, he’d be arrested. While she waited for Carson to return to the waiting room, a local police officer arrived to take her statement. She couldn’t tell him much. Hopefully Joe or George would be able to identify the type of car Dewayne had been driving.
Two hours later, Carson came into the lobby. His face haggard, he smiled and pulled her into his arms. “He’s going to make it, but he’ll need to stay here overnight.”
She sagged with relief. “I’m so glad.”
His hand cupped her cheek as he peered down at her. “I’m going to stay with him for awhile, but I’ll be at your place later tonight. I’ll have Joe and George keep an eye on you until I can get there.”
“There is no need. I’ll be fine. You stay with Hans.” After all, she’d winged Dewayne. “I doubt Dewayne will be up to coming after me tonight.”
“I don’t know. The man’s not done anything like we thought he would.” His brow furrowed. “Maybe you should go stay with Aunt Leona and Uncle Buck until I can pick you up.”
She didn’t want to go somewhere else. The little cottage had become home, and that’s where she wanted to be. “I’ll be fine, Carson.” She smiled up at him, hoping to ease his worry. “You concentrate on Hans. Do you need anything from home, like a shave kit or clean underwear?”
He grinned and tweaked her nose. “Haha, very funny. I don’t think they have human showers here, and I don’t intend to get in the dog bath.”
“How will you get home?”
“I’ll have someone bring my pickup back and leave it out front.”
Carson walked her to the truck. She slid behind the wheel, and to her surprise he opened the passenger door and got in beside her. Arm around her shoulders, he tugged. “Come here, woman.”
She moved to snuggle against him. He tilted her face to his and traced her lips with a finger. “You scared the devil out of me earlier. I don’t know what I’d have done if Dewayne had killed you. I think I aged ten years.”
“Well, I was rather terrified myself.”
“You did really well, sweetheart. I’m proud of how you handled yourself.” He chuckled. “Guess we know you can shoot someone if you have to.”
“Surprised you, huh? Surprised myself, too.” But she’d not thought twice about firing at Dewayne. She guessed her self-preservation instinct took over.
/> “I had hoped tonight we’d be together in my bed, skin to skin.” He yanked on her coat. “Not with all these layers between us.”
His words sent fire to her belly. She longed for the same thing, being with this man, fully. “Uh, well, sorry about that.” Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest. She tugged his mouth down to hers and whispered against it. “I’d rather hoped for the same thing.”
A groan rumbled from his chest. “I love you, Susan. I want you to marry me and us to build a life together.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And I want to have sex with you every morning and night.”
She wanted that too, but feared he would be disappointed after they made love. Dewayne had been. Said she was a cold bitch. Well, after his foray into drugs, that is. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Carson.”
“You cannot disappoint me, Susan. Your body responds to mine, as mine does to yours. Together we’ll set the sheets on fire…or the kitchen table…or—”
“Yikes! Enough.” Her face burned, and no doubt he could see her embarrassment.
He nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.” He kissed his way to her lips. “Kiss me now before I go back inside.”
When he released her, they both gasped for air. “Still have doubts?”
She grinned. “No.”
He slid across the seat and out of the cab. “Be careful. See you in the morning.”
“I will.” She started the truck. “And Carson, I love you too.”
Chapter Eighteen
Though Hans never made much noise, the lack of the dog’s company caused Susan some disquiet. From her spot in the middle of the bed, she glanced toward the huge pillow Carson had purchased as a bed for Hans. The plaid flannel cushion took up an immense amount of space beside her bed. Every time she got up, she had to watch her step to keep from tripping over it. Hans had immediately known the pad was for him. He’d stepped into the middle, turned around several times, and plunked down. Susan grinned at the memory.
A Stolen Chance Page 14
