“Still is, thank you very much,” Killian interjected, causing the officer to smile slightly.
“Yeah, I kind of heard it was like that with you, so I figured when I started to get worried, you might be inclined to do the same.”
“And what does he have to be worried about?” Adam could already feel his muscles start to ache. Tensed and strained for two straight weeks, he didn’t know if they had the energy left to take on any more worries. Hell, he might just snap.
“Well, you know she told me she was researching prostitution for a book, and so I was helping her out,” Watts began slowly.
“You’re not telling us anything we didn’t know.” Adam didn’t even try to hide the implications lurking in his hard tone. It obviously gave Watts pause as he shot Adam a curious look. He didn’t flinch under the scrutiny.
“So it’s like that, huh?” Watts smirked again and shook his head. “I heard tales about you Pittsview boys but thought it was all just bragging.”
“I don’t really care what you heard about us,” Adam shot back. “I’m still waiting to hear what you know about Rachel.”
“Well, I know she’s been feeding the Dothan police tips about a whorehouse being run through a motel out their way.” Watts’s words sank in like hot little bullets slicing through Adam’s chest. It made it hard to breathe, but the shots just kept rolling out of Watts’s mouth.
“According to my buddy, she knows things that only somebody on the inside would know.” The officer paused to pin Adam with his piercingly light blue gaze. “And I mean on the actual inside of the building.
“When I heard that, it kind of put a set of bricks in my stomach,” Watts confessed.
Adam knew what he meant. His gut filled with iron, though. Burning, red-hot rage boiled in the caldron that had become his stomach.
“I figured if you knew about it,” Watts said as he shrugged, “well, you’d be in some kind of trouble with your boss, and if not then you might want to consider how much trouble your woman is digging herself into. Those boys out there are already working on their case and got their plans in place. It’s going to be bad if Rachel gets caught in all of that.”
“Don’t worry,” Killian assured him with such a chipper tone Adam’s head rolled to stare at his friend in amazement. That fucking bastard was still smiling. He really had gone and lost it. “We’ll handle Rachel. Thanks for the heads-up. If we can ever return the favor, you know where to find us.”
“Yeah.” Watts’s puzzled look as he glanced from Killian to Adam and back confirmed that Adam wasn’t the only one who thought Killian might be in need of a little time on the therapist’s couch. “I’ll remember that, and good luck with Rachel.”
Adam would need it, stuck between a lunatic and a madwoman. What the hell could she possibly be thinking? Investigating a real prostitution ring was nowhere near the same thing as doing research for a book. The woman had completely lost control of her senses. The one thing Adam would not tolerate was her getting hurt.
“So,” Killian said as he turned his fool’s grin on Adam, “do I get to abduct her now?”
Chapter 33
It seemed strange to Rachel that a person could be so determined to be happy and still end up weighing twenty pounds extra at the end of the day from all the misery. The high point of her career had come to a stumbling stall these past two weeks. While she had the prostitution story in the works, Rachel didn’t have the focus or concentration to take up anything else as intense.
So Rachel had spent her day interviewing Mary Sue Jennings about her Elvis-faced vegetable collection. Really, Mary Sue was quite sweet, and art was always a matter of interpretation, but Rachel didn’t get it. The wife of an organic vegetable farmer, Mary Sue had collected over thirty different squashes, potatoes, even some bi-colored corn that kind of had a silhouette of a face, if that face happened to belong to Mr. Potato Head.
Rachel figured the readers would have to decide. She’d taken more than enough pictures to run with the article and expected some of the older townsfolk to get into a heated debate over what those faces really looked like. Of course, the article probably wouldn’t be safe enough for Killian’s approval. It was possible she could go out to the farm and get bitten by mosquitoes and end up dying of some rare tropical disease.
That made it easier for her to drop her purse on the coffee table and go listen to the message she knew awaited on her machine. Killian left one every other day right around six o’clock. It had become such a ritual that Rachel didn’t answer her phone during the danger period.
The last thing she needed to deal with was a direct confrontation, no matter what Patton thought. What she really should have done was just erased them without listening, but she couldn’t. A part of her clung to this one last remnant of their relationship and the warmth it gave her to hear Killian’s voice.
Braced, she pressed the play button next to the flashing one, showing how many messages she had.
“You have one message…Six-oh-one pm…Rachel?”
She froze at the cold, hard sound of Adam’s voice. It held no more emotion than the last time she’d heard it coming across the phone line. Only this time, there was a dark, determined undertone as he issued his warning.
“This is your last chance to do things the civilized way.”
Every fiber of Rachel’s being bristled in alarm as she went perfectly still, straining to hear something soft moving in the silence. Were they here? Already in her house? Or were they watching? Her gaze cut to the living room windows, curtains pulled back. Nothing moved out in the road, and she studied the bush line, fearful of what it might hide.
What the hell were they planning now?
Rachel started and shrieked at the shrill sound of the phone. Clamping a hand to her chest as if that would stop the pounding of her heart and let her catch a gasp of breath, she stared at the cordless unit as it let out another ear-piercing yelp.
She didn’t recognize the number flashing in the caller ID screen, but it couldn’t be Killian or Adam. The area code clearly came from out of the county. Still, she hesitated answering, not really in the mood to be distracted when she had to focus.
Adam had threatened her, which meant that he hadn’t disappeared because he’d given up. He’d sulked off. From the sound of it, he’d brooded himself into a dark state. One where he obviously had detailed out a plan of retribution.
That should have terrified her because Rachel knew what Adam was capable of, but the fear fueling her blood was thick with arousal. It made her anticipate the coming attack instead of running from it as a wise woman would do.
The answering machine beeped, finally bringing an end to the obvious ringing. Rachel glanced down at it, snickering to herself as a velvety voice fairly purred out of the machine.
“Hey, Rachel, this is Nick. Nick Dickles. I was thinking about your story the other day, and I might be able to give you a little more help. There’s this—”
Rachel hit the mute button, not caring to hear the rest. The man must have thought she was as bright as Patton did. Of course, if Rachel had followed Patton’s advice, she’d have picked up the phone and given the man his due. There really wasn’t any point in starting that argument. The man was an ass. She knew it. That’s all that needed to be said.
Clicking the ringer off, Rachel sighed and surveyed her living room and dining room. She’d been standing here and so far nothing had happened, so it seemed unlikely that her deputies lurked in any of the corners. Still, to be on the safe side, Rachel searched the whole house, doubling-checking every window and both doors before drawing all the curtains closed and hiding herself away.
They’d come. Rachel couldn’t afford to fool herself into thinking they wouldn’t. Nor could she deny that after the past two lonely weeks, she would submit to a full-on seduction. The real question was what they planned to do after.
Or what she would do. As irritating as Patton had been, their conversation had plagued Rachel all day, maki
ng her question just why she didn’t trust Killian and Adam. She obviously didn’t because she remained morbidly convinced that she couldn’t hold on to them. What she didn’t know is where that conviction came from.
Certainly not from them because neither Killian nor Adam had ever done anything in the slightest to make any of her fears legitimate. Just the opposite, they’d been the ones focused and pushing, outright clinging to her. If actions spoke louder than words, then theirs clearly said how much they cared for her, worried over her.
So why didn’t that count? Why didn’t it calm her fears instead of riling them up? Patton had it right. There would never be another man in her life whom she trusted half as much as she did Killian or Adam. That should be enough to take the risk and call them back, but it wasn’t because a part of Rachel couldn’t believe that they’d ever love her.
Realizing how sick she was didn’t make her day any better. Nor did the sight of her empty bed, but she couldn’t take another night on the couch. What the hell would be the point, anyway? It wasn’t like she slept anymore.
Not that she would spend her night obsessing over whatever Killian and Adam planned. It would be better to be a victim of their seduction than seeking out her own destruction. That way when it was done, she could blame them. It would make a good defense if she got hurt.
* * * *
She decided to ignore Adam’s threat, which turned out to be as hard as Rachel imagined. The fact that they’d decided to wait didn’t make it easier. Thursday came and went without any flowers or other surprises. The most unexpected event had been Brandon’s invitation to his and Duncan’s ritual barbeque on Saturday.
Since Rachel had publicly dismissed Killian, a growing number of Cattlemen had started to issue her invitations. As with all the others, she’d been polite in her rejection, but the practice had started to wear thin. Being suddenly popular hadn’t made the last two weeks any more bearable.
It actually made everything a little worse because she knew they only wanted her because Killian and Adam did, if that were even true. Rachel had begun to wonder just what they were really up to.
She kept her eyes peeled all of Friday for the slightest signal of her oncoming fate, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. The waiting began to drive her nuts. That evening, she finally snapped.
Unable to take it anymore, Rachel changed out of her sweats and went to tempt the beasts into the open by leaving the sanctuary of her house. She even decided to go over to the Bread Box for the first time since the day she’d dumped them. If they were watching her, then they’d read her actions as a silent challenge. Of that, Rachel was sure.
It still felt creepy leaving her house. The neighborhood was strangely quiet, the streets still and uncluttered. Brandon must have canceled his party because Duncan’s and his house sat dark and deserted. It was how the whole town felt as she drove through it. Even the diner’s parking lot was strangely vacant for the dinner rush hour.
There was a quite hush to the building as she entered, nothing like its normal chaos of conversation. Only a few patrons filled in along the booths, mostly families and elderly couples. Only one long-limbed figure sulked alone at the bar, the sheriff, and he couldn’t have better timing because there was no way Killian and Adam could see her talking to him and maintain their patience.
It was a low, dirty trick, but Rachel felt like they’d come to the gloves off part of their battle. Everybody knew she’d be losing in the end, anyway, so she might as well go down fighting. Patton had it right in some respects. Cattlemen only placed sure bets.
That meant they didn’t really need to chase because they knew they could have her whenever they wanted. Maybe that was why she was afraid to trust them. They had all the power. They controlled everything except for one thing.
Plopping her purse down the bar, Rachel beamed a wide grin at the sheriff. “Hey, sheriff, mind if I join you?”
Since she already had, it would have been polite for him to say yes, but Alex shot her a guarded look, issuing a cautious warning. “I don’t know if that’s wise tonight, Miss Adams.”
“Miss Adams?” Rachel cocked a brow. “What happened to Rachel?”
“What happened to my deputies?” Alex shot back. “You know, Killian and Adam aren’t the easiest of men to work with under normal circumstances, but at least they’re good at their jobs. Or they were.
“Now I’ve got Adam running around giving eighty-eight-year-old Mrs. Porter a ticket for doing three miles over the speed limit. And Killian spends more time in a day plotting whatever crazy-ass idea that’s fascinating him at the moment than actually bothering to issue tickets.” Alex pointed his coffee-dipped spoon right at her. “I don’t need this headache, Rachel.”
Somehow, some way, Alex’s rapid paced complaint actually lightened Rachel’s mood. It felt good to be around somebody just as miserable as she was, driven there by the same two exasperating men. “So you want me to take them back to make your life easier?”
“Yes.” Alex nodded. “Thank you.”
Rachel really did laugh at that, settling back in her stool. As the mirth died off, a question remained that she couldn’t resist asking. “So, they’ve been missing me?”
Alex snorted over the edge of his coffee cup. “Hell, I’ve seriously been considering pulling them off patrol and sending them to a shrink’s office to see if they can be saved.”
“Well,” Rachel said, pausing to straighten out her silverware, “that’s good to hear.”
Alex choked on his coffee. She imagined he had a response for her flippancy, but Heather cut him off, appearing to flip over Rachel’s mug and start filling it with coffee. “You want your usual?”
“That sounds good.” Rachel’s stomach grumbled, thinking about the fried chicken to come.
That normally would have ended their conversation, but Heather hesitated. “You, uh, wanna eat in back and keep me company?”
Rachel got the pointed message in Heather’s glance at the sheriff. Then Rachel smiled at the silent warning. “No, I think I’ll stay out here and keep the sheriff company.”
“Are you sure?”
“Geez, Heather.” Alex cocked his head to send her a smirk. “You know, some women actually find my company pleasurable.”
Since Rachel knew he hadn’t said that for her benefit, she had to wonder why he’d bothered for Heather’s. Her friend certainly didn’t jump to his bait. At least not directly. Instead, she focused her attention on Rachel. Resting her arms on the table, Heather slid in close to whisper, “You look around, Rachel. Look good and hard and consider what is missing.” After issuing that cryptic warning, Heather shot Alex a dirty look. “And remember, some sheriffs consider when they want to know what they know.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex retorted, sounding outright bored.
“Of course not.”
“Well, I’d like to know what you’re both talking about,” Rachel interjected. Whatever was going on between Heather and the sheriff, Rachel didn’t want to be in the middle of it. Not with Killian and Adam prowling around in the shadows. Maybe coming out hadn’t been such a good idea.
“I don’t really know,” Heather shrugged. “All I can tell you is what my eyes aren’t seeing.”
That was Heather’s second reference to vision. It had Rachel scowling as she turned around to study the diner. Besides the patrons, what was missing? Nothing but the men who normally filled—Rachel eyes widened in alarm as she spun around on her stool, but Heather had already disappeared. That left Alex, calmly chewing on a Danish.
“Where are they?”
“Huh?”
She’d give the sheriff his due for being a good actor and projecting the perfect expression of innocent confusion, except Rachel wasn’t in the mood for games. Not anymore.
“The Cattlemen, where are they?”
“The who?”
“Drop the act, Alex. I know you know what I’m talking about.”
�
�You’re a reporter, Rachel.” Alex smirked. “And I’m an elected official.”
Rachel narrowed her gaze on that obnoxious response. “Off the record, Alex.”
“Off the record?” He appeared to consider that for a moment before shrugging. “They’re all gathered at the club. Got a big night’s entertainment planned.”
Rachel had a sick feeling she was the entertainment, even if that seemed an extreme conclusion. One thing she knew was Killian and Adam wouldn’t be passing her around to all those men, so if they had planned something, the most they’d let any other man do was watch. The very second the idea hit her, Rachel felt her stomach fall away.
“So,” the sheriff said, shoving back his empty plate, “you want to come home with me tonight?”
“What?” The very suggestion startled Rachel.
“Or,” Alex offered with a smile, “you going to go out there alone?”
He knew, and he was offering her an escape. Only a crazy woman wouldn’t leap at the chance to avoid her fate. The thing about fate was it caught up to everybody eventually. Rachel hesitated to think of what Killian and Adam would up the ante to if she hid behind Alex.
Or maybe it would decimate them, be the final blow that finally had them admitting defeat. Then she could go home to her comfortable couch for the rest of her miserable life.
“I think I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Suit yourself.” Alex slid from his stool to fish his wallet out of his back pocket. “Just remember, they’re only acting so crazy because you drove them to it. If you’d just settle down, they would, too.”
Rachel glared at Alex’s back as he sauntered out of the deli. Now the sheriff was giving her relationship advice. She’d hit a new low. If so many people thought she’d messed up, one had to question if they didn’t have a point.
Her dinner ruined, Rachel barely picked at her chicken, obsessing over what would come after she left the diner. She could wait until close and escape to Heather’s. Killian and Adam couldn’t get overwrought about her hiding behind a female friend.
Penn, Jenny - Rachel's Seduction [Cattleman's Club] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 35
