Chapter 7
Ian went out to the barn office, a lump in his throat and the five words on the note echoing through his brain. He’d wanted to take it, get his brother’s opinion on the handwriting, but when he’d heard quiet footsteps moving down the staircase, he’d replaced it in the same drawer where Jessie had left it hidden.
He’d retreated to the kitchen, where Althea, true to form, asked him to “taste test” the mouthwatering lemon squares she’d made a thousand times before. Unable to escape her well-meaning chatter, he smiled and made nice, praising her delicacies and gently teasing until he had the broad-hipped older woman blushing like a schoolgirl.
Then his mother came in with Eden, looking sleepy and bedraggled as a five-year-old can after a rough day in the kindergarten trenches. He’d cheered her up by sneaking her a lemon square against his mother’s exhortations that she “save her appetite for supper” and telling her some silly riddles dredged up from the recesses of his memory.
Only after Eden had run off giggling to play with her dogs had he found a private moment to return to the little alcove, where he’d pulled out the drawer and found the note gone. Figuring Jessie meant only to protect him, he knocked at his brother’s office door now, but there was no response. Instead, Ian found his older brother working with a coal-black filly in a nearby corral, soothing the tall three-year-old with big hands and soft words until she quit her fidgeting and trotted smoothly around the enclosure.
Not wanting to startle anyone and possibly get his brother thrown, Ian stood on the rails watching until Zach dismounted and patted the animal’s sweat-soaked neck. “That’s a good girl. You’re going to be a real champ, aren’t you?”
Ian smiled to see his brother’s gentler side. “That’s not the way our old man broke in young horses.”
“Or sons, either,” Zach said as he led the filly closer, “which is just one reason I’m going for exactly the opposite approach.”
“Marriage has been good for you, ironed out some of the rough edges. Or maybe it’s fatherhood that’s doing it.”
“Maybe it’s both,” Zach said, “because I’ll tell you what. I had some issues of my own to work through when I came home, not the least of which was the news of my little brother’s death.”
He peeled off a leather glove and slapped Ian’s arm with it. But Ian felt the affection in his gesture, just as he saw it in the look Zach gave him.
“So what’s on your mind?” Zach gestured toward Ian’s chest. “And why didn’t you bring me one of those lemon squares that you’ve obviously been scrounging?”
Ian looked down, then brushed a few telltale yellow crumbs from the front of his shirt. “Too bad for you that Althea loves me more.” The truth was, the old cook had always been more generous with her affections than their mother.
“She just feels sorry for your scrawny ass on account of you being so pitiful.” Zach grinned as Ian leaned between the rails to punch his arm, a movement that had the filly tossing back her head and straining against the reins. “Come on, man, knock it off now. You’re upsetting my girl here. If you want to talk, come walk with us.”
Ian got serious and stepped into the corral to do as he’d been asked. Drawing a deep breath, he said, “I’ve gotta tell you something. Something about Jessie.”
Zach stopped walking the horse to stare at him. “Just remember, that’s my wife, before you start.”
Ian threw his hands up. “Jessie’s great, man. Really, she is. Whip-smart and beautiful and, for some damned reason nobody can figure, in love with your dumb ass.”
Zach shrugged and said, “Some guys have just got it, man. I don’t know what to tell you.”
Ian made a scoffing sound before getting to the point. “Thing is, I saw her hiding something a little bit ago. Something I’m convinced was meant for me. She was trying not to worry me, I imagine, but after I read the thing—”
“What’re you talking about?”
“It was a note, Zach, anonymous and to the point. Only thing it said was ‘Your hiding days are over.’”
Zach’s body tensed, a dangerous look hardening his features. Ian recognized the expression and braced himself for an explosion, but his brother’s anger wasn’t directed at him.
“Hold on a minute,” Zach said, then raised his voice to call out, “Rusty?”
One of the younger hands looked up from whatever he’d been doing beneath the hood of an old pickup in the lee of the barn, wiped the grease from his hands and came trotting over.
“Mind interrupting what you’re doing and cooling down Onyx here before you put her up?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Rayford, sir,” the kid said, for Ian realized that, despite his ox-like build, the round-faced cowboy with the ridiculously tall hat still hadn’t lost all his baby fat. Not that there was much chance that ranch work wouldn’t melt it off him in a few months.
“You don’t have to sir me, cowboy. This isn’t the marines,” Zach said. “Be gentle with this filly, though, and give her a good rubdown, too. She’s just getting started, and I don’t want her scared or hurt, or to have any negative associations with the barn or human handling.”
The kid snatched off the ten-gallon hat, revealed an unruly shock of red-brown hair. “Yes, sir—I mean Mr. Rayford, sir.” Blushing, he added helplessly, “I’m sorry. But I won’t disappoint you. I promise that I won’t.”
Zach nodded and looked after them as the hand led off the filly.
“That horse is special to you, isn’t she?” Ian asked him, taking note of the animal’s gleaming jet coat and rock-solid quarter horse build.
“Not half as special as that stubborn woman of mine.”
Ian nodded, his throat tightening. “I get that, Zach. I do. First the shooting, now the note. I’m a danger to your family, aren’t I, to Jessie and Eden? A danger to all of us, as long as there’s a sniper gunning for me. Which means, it’s time to move on. I’ve still got my savings.” Though it had been part of his own so-called estate, Zach had restored the money, along with funds from the sale of his vehicle and the furnishings from his old apartment. There would be government back pay as well, from the months he’d spent as a prisoner, and Zach was working with the family’s lawyers on seeing that Ian would receive a healthy portion of the ranch’s profits, too—a portion easily worth millions.
But his brother was scowling at him now, shaking his head and demanding, “Quit talking nonsense. You’re not going anywhere. Mama would have a heart attack.”
“You think she’ll like it any better when a bullet comes flying through the window? And what if she ended up hurt, her or Jessie or Eden, or Miss Althea or Virgil or—hell, you?”
Zach managed a wry smile. “Glad you thought to add me in there, somewhere, bonehead. But we’ll definitely be stepping up ranch security. And the thing is, Ian, we don’t have any way to know if this note’s got anything to do with you, not without a name or an envelope to go by.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Do I really need to remind you that someone’s out to get me? And this time, I’ve got a witness to prove it’s more than just my imagination.”
“I realize you were shot at. But it could turn out that was some jackass kid out drinking with his buddies, thinking it’d be funny to see you and Andrea duck and cover. Or it could’ve been someone with an ax to grind against the family as a whole—a disgruntled former employee or somebody who’s feeling resentful that the Rayfords keep getting richer while they’re still flat broke.”
“You could be right, I guess, but I’m right when I tell you that not everybody’s happy I made it back home. I can’t tell you exactly how I know it, can’t remember why I’m so damned sure that whoever’s responsible for that ambush is even unhappier about the fact that I’m starting to remember pieces of my time—” Ian’s vision wavered like a mirage, his brother shif
ting, shrinking, his blue eyes going dark and hard as stone while the reins he was holding morphed into a blood-caked chain. But this time, Ian gritted his teeth and shook off the hallucination. “Of my time away. And I’m sure that this person won’t care who he has to hurt to stop me from remembering the rest.”
“If someone really wants you dead, why send a warning? Why not just take you out when you’re least expecting it?”
Ian thought about it for a moment. “Maybe the sender changed his mind about what it was going to take to run me off. We ought to ask Jessie how and when it was delivered, take a look at any envelope, as well, to see if there’s a postmark or any other clue to where it came from.”
“That’s a good idea. Or at least it would be if we could get my wife’s cooperation.”
“Even if she’s trying to protect me, she’d surely be willing to confide in you. So why don’t you go ahead and ask her?”
“Because I’m pretty sure my darling wife would lie to me about it.”
“Lie? To you? That makes no sense as all.”
Zach huffed out a sigh, his blue eyes troubled. “It makes sense if she’s not trying to protect you but her career, instead.”
“Wait a minute. What are you thinking? That someone’s threatening her on account of her latest investigative piece?”
“Whatever the hell it is, yeah. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Wouldn’t be the first time her work’s gotten her on the wrong side of some very dangerous types, and it makes me damned nervous when she refuses to at least tell me whose business she’s digging into.”
“So you’re really still thinking there’s a chance that Andrea was the real target this morning, when the shooter mistook her for Jessie?” Though Ian’s instincts argued against it, with no memory to back up the suspicion, he was willing to at least listen to his brother’s theory.
Zach nodded. “I sure as hell do. If only I could get her to give up her crusading, settle down here on the ranch and be a full-time mom to Eden.”
“We’re not living in the fifties, man. What are you saying, that she should stick to shopping and planning meals with Mama?” Ian might have only met her recently, but such life choices didn’t sound much like his sister-in-law’s style.
Zach chuffed a humorless laugh. “Heck, no. Those two would probably kill each other, and Jessie’s got too much drive and talent to be happy penning those skills up. I just want my wife, my family safe. We’ve already suffered enough with the last rabid bear she poked.”
Ian hadn’t heard the entire story, but what he had gleaned was enough to convince him Zach had every reason to fear for Jessie’s safety as she went after corruption at the highest levels. But it was just as easy to imagine how such a spirited woman would react to her husband’s demand.
Zach shook his head, clearly stewing over his frustrations and his need to keep his family safe. “I’d bet that fine filly and a whole lot more that threat was directed at Jessie, and she doesn’t want me worrying about it. It’s just the kind of thing that stubborn woman would do—try to take matters into her own hands.”
As much as Ian hated to get in the middle of their marriage, he had to say, “I understand your theory, might even give it credence, but this note showing up on the same day someone tried to ambush me is damned suspicious.”
“You’ve definitely got a point there,” Zach said, “and I’ll do my best to get the truth out of Jessie about what she’s been up to. But it’s bound to be a touchy subject since she’s been swearing she won’t talk—for everybody’s safety.”
“I can see why that would worry you. Wait, there she is now.” Ian nodded toward Jessie, who was jogging their way, despite the high-heeled boots she wore with her jeans and a rolled-sleeved blouse.
Zach hurried to meet her, Ian right behind him.
“What’s the matter? You look upset,” Zach asked. “Is Eden all right?”
Jessie stopped and shook her head as she caught her breath. “Eden’s fine. Nobody’s hurt. It’s just—”
“I’ll leave the two of you.” Ian stepped away, wanting to give the couple privacy. He was already wondering how upset Jessie would be with him for ratting her out to Zach about the threat.
But Jessie was raising her hands. “Don’t go, Ian. This concerns you, too. It’s Andrea. I just called her because one of the maids found a pair of headphones under the bed in the guest suite, but when I reached Andrea, she was so upset she could barely get the words out.”
Alarm jolted through him. “Why? What’s happened? Is it her head?”
“Not her head, her heart. You see, her fiancé was none too happy when she told him about what happened between the two of you.”
“About the shooting, you mean?” Zach said. “I understand that, but if she wants to come back, I can guarantee him we’ll be stepping up security around this place big-time.”
But that wasn’t what Jessie was referring to, Ian saw as their gazes locked. And so did Zach, apparently.
“This is about your crazy idea you could steal her away from him,” he said.
“Or that kiss we shared down in the ravine,” Ian admitted, remembering the way their contact had ignited, making him lose sight of everything else. “Because being with her—it brings it all back. For both of us, I’m sure of it.”
“Well, whatever it was,” Jessie said, swinging an accusatory look his way, “you’ve gone and gotten her not only dumped, but fired. Did you have any idea her fiancé was her boss, too?”
“Yeah, but I—I’ll talk to him if that’s what she wants,” Ian said, “make him understand that it was all my fault.”
“Too late for that now. I reminded her how the doctor at the E.R. told her she needed to be sure to rest, but she said she’s packing up her things now and heading straight back to California. She says she’ll drive as far as she can and then get a motel room.”
As Ian fished his phone from his back pocket, Zach said, “That doesn’t make a lick of sense. She’ll run out of daylight long before she runs outta empty prairie if she heads toward the interstate.”
“I tried to tell her.”
“What’s her number, Jessie?” asked Ian. “I never got it from her.”
Jessie pulled out her own cell and showed him the number on her list of recent calls. “You can try,” she said, “but she didn’t pick up when I called her back. I called the main number for the center, too, but all I got was some after-hours recording. I’m really worried about her, Ian. She didn’t sound at all like the smart, together woman we saw when she was out here.”
But Ian’s attention was fully on his phone as he tried calling Andrea. After the call rolled over to voice mail, he tried again with the same results. This time, he left a message. “Don’t you dare leave town until I see you,” he warned. “I’m on my way to the center. Call me when you get this.”
When he disconnected, Jessie shook her head at him. “You can’t go running after her, Ian. It’ll just escalate—”
“I’m going,” he told both her and his brother. “The question is, which one of you is lending me your keys?”
* * *
Aware that she would have very tight quarters at the center, Andrea had sold off or given away most of her possessions before moving here from California. Yet in the months she’d been here, the few belongings she’d brought with her had somehow expanded to more than she would ever be able to cram inside her little blue Honda. She could pack far more efficiently, she knew, if she weren’t half blinded by tears and having to stop what she was doing so often to blow her nose. Her head was pounding, too, in spite of the mild painkiller she had taken.
But it was worry that was exacting the harshest toll, the worry that her refusal to do as Julian wanted would come back to haunt her. Still, the idea that he would call her patriotism into question and threaten her career
, even hinting that she might be putting herself in real danger unless she did his bidding had in the end done nothing but convince her she had to get away from this no matter the cost.
Unwilling to risk talking to the all-too-perceptive Cassidy, Andrea decided to leave the center’s psychiatric nurse a note instructing her to take whatever she wanted and give away the rest. Adding to the hasty message, Andrea included an explanation for her own sudden departure, a lie about an emergency back home involving a nonexistent aunt’s recovery from surgery.
Instead, Andrea would go to her friend Samantha’s place, if Sam wouldn’t mind her couch surfing for a week or two. Andrea told herself it didn’t matter. She’d sleep on a park bench if she had to, whatever it took to put as many miles as possible between herself and Julian.
Was it possible he’d really go after her license as he’d threatened? But whether or not he followed through was out of her hands, she told herself as she wiped away more stinging tears. The only part she could control was her refusal to spy on Ian.
After blotting her red eyes, she sneaked another box of her belongings to the car. With the last few books she couldn’t part with stashed beneath a seat, Andrea climbed into the car, relief spreading through her that she’d managed to get this far without detection. As she cranked the engine, though, her phone vibrated once more in her pocket.
Sorry that she had taken Jessie’s earlier call while she was so upset, Andrea had switched off the ringer. She regretted her babbling even more when she saw Ian’s name on the caller ID window, and her phone’s call log told her she had missed seven calls from the same number. There were several voice mails, too, including one from Julian.
She chose to listen to that message, maybe out of the desperate hope that he was calling to explain himself at last. Instead, her eyes shot wide as his recorded voice said, “Bail on me now, and I swear you’ll regret it, ‘Andie,’” an ugly sneer dripping through Ian’s nickname for her—a nickname she had never used or mentioned to her former boss. “But if you go and warn him, if you say one damned word to him about this, I swear to you I’ll see you in a federal prison for giving aid and comfort to the enemy.”
Lone Star Survivor Page 11
