She thought back to the call. She’d been busy that morning, preparing rooms for the first group of kids. “It was a woman. She was pretty frantic to reach him. I told the investigating officers about the call at the time, but I had no idea what her name was, and they didn’t seem very interested.”
“Nothing distinctive about the voice? An accent? Deep pitch?”
“Nope. It was just a woman’s voice, sounding strident. Was there something memorable in the way Lee’s wife spoke?”
“No.”
They lapsed back into silence and continued walking. Marly’s thoughts sheared off into a whole new direction. “Sam, do you think Chris is in danger?”
“Hard to say.”
“You’re prevaricating.”
“What do you want me to say, Marly? I’m as worried about the boy as you are.” She felt his shoulders lift and fall in a shrug. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a clue as to what might have happened, unless George recognized the name and spirited him out of the hospital to keep him safe.”
“Then why would the press say he’s missing?”
“It could be they’re trying to draw me out.”
Marly thought about that and shook her head. “I wish I could believe that.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Do you think Jake was making the calls to me?”
“Or Carter.”
That surprised her. “Why Carter?”
“He’s in love with you.”
Marly came to a stop, trying to read his face in the darkness. “No,” she stated. “Carter’s in love with the idea of getting partial control of my horse farm. I told you, we had a talk on the drive back from the hospital the other day. He asked me to marry him. I told him no.”
“And you think that’s the end of it?”
“I made my lack of interest pretty clear.” She frowned. “Besides, why would he have done anything to jeopardize what he saw as his potential future by threatening me?”
“You have a different take on the man than I do,” Sam told her as he stepped up their pace.
She wished he would take her hand again. She missed that innocent contact.
“Don’t you think Carter was the tiniest bit upset by all the time you spent with the boys?” Sam asked. “Time he might think was better spent on himself and the horses?”
“That sounds more like Jake.” But a thread of doubt hung suspended with her words. Carter had urged her to stop the program after her divorce went through. He’d wanted her to wait a year. On the other hand, Jake had made no bones about how much he disliked the “brats,” as he called them. Yet he had risked his life in the well to help her rescue Chris.
“The point is, Marly, I don’t trust anyone here except Emma.”
“Well, thank goodness you don’t suspect her, too.”
“It was a man in that hayloft,” he told her. “And I think it took a man’s strength to kill Bill with that pitchfork. On the other hand, she could be working with one of the men.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“Cautious, suspicious, careful even, but never ridiculous. Someone killed Rayback and Porterfield. Someone set fire to your barn and tampered with your brakes.”
“Couldn’t Lee have done all that?”
There was a beat of silence. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Her hand reached to capture his again. She squeezed gently, and he returned the pressure. “So who do we trust?”
“Just you and me, kid.”
“Sam, what are we doing back here?”
She sensed, rather than saw, his hand go to his jaw to rub it tiredly. “I want to talk to Emma, if she’s here.”
“Why?”
“Because I doubt that much goes on around here she doesn’t know about. There may be things she knows or suspects about your husband that she never told you.”
“But—”
“Shhh…”
They had reached the clearing at the top of the driveway. Sam paused, bringing Marly to a halt, as well. Stretched before them was nothing remotely resembling cover. Four vehicles were parked off to one side.
Sam realized he had never been inside the bunkhouse, much less on this side of the building. The converted stable blazed with lights, and there were distinct movements behind one of the windows.
He hesitated, muttering a soft oath. They would never get across that expanse of open ground undetected.
“This way,” Marly whispered.
He followed her to the right as she hugged the tree line, moving toward the training ring. Her white blouse was a beacon in the moonlight. Sam fervently hoped no one was watching as they moved from the shelter of the trees, leaving themselves exposed to prying eyes. The barn lay dead ahead, dark and silent. There was no sign of light or motion from inside that building.
The house stood to their left, equally silent and dark. Almost sinister in the moonlight. Sullen windows eyed their approach. Sam didn’t like this. They were too exposed.
The moon whisked in and out among the low scudding clouds, but there was plenty of light to be seen by. Was anyone watching? The yellow tape marking off the barn sagged, an ugly reminder of their current situation. There was no sign of police activity.
“No lights inside the house.” Sam spoke softly, his eyes never still as he surveyed the landscape.
“Emma’s rooms are in the back, over there on the left. We can’t see them from here. She’s probably locked down the house for the night.”
“Is there an outside entrance to her wing?”
Marly shook her head. “She uses the patio door on the porch or the front door. The front’s our best bet. If we try for the patio door, we’ll be in plain view of the bunkhouse. One of the guys might call the cops, thinking we’re burglars.”
Sam bent and retrieved the gun from his boot. He felt Marly stiffen, but she didn’t protest. “Let me scout it out first.”
“No way. You aren’t leaving me here alone.”
He turned at the steel underlying her words.
“I’m afraid of the dark,” she added with heavy sarcasm.
He bit back a comment. If Marly was afraid of anything, he had yet to see proof. One thing he knew for certain, she was stubborn. He would only be wasting time if he argued with her.
“Okay, but stay behind me.”
She managed a withering look. He knew he was being bossy again, but surely she could see that this was different.
“No problem,” she said drolly. “I’mnot bulletproof.”
“Cute.”
He decided the best approach was to walk straight up to the front door. Since there was no cover, they would be clearly visible no matter what they did. A direct approach wouldn’t be expected.
He set off briskly, aware of Marly at his heels. The side yard was as silent as death. Not a great thought to have at the moment. Why the heck didn’t she have dogs? At least barn cats? He’d have to remember to ask her about that one of these days.
Only when they reached the comer of the house unharmed did he relax a fraction. He paused to look and listen. The night seemed to hold a thousand eyes—all of them directed right at him. He couldn’t shake a growing sensation that they weren’t alone out here.
Moving more quickly now, he followed the porch around to the front. Sam kept a close eye on the barn, though he would have sworn it was empty. They mounted the steps and paused outside the front door.
Marly shifted silently. She, too, scanned the area. Did she sense another presence, as well? Seconds passed, but the night remained unruffled.
His curse was a breath of air. Marly nudged his empty hand, and he found her offering her house key. She held it so that the other keys didn’t jingle together. He wanted to hug her and tell how terrific she was. He’d worked with professional backup who didn’t have her innate common sense.
Sam wished like hell they’d met at any other time and place. He wished he could take her back to bed and make love to her until they were both exhausted—so
mewhere safe, where murder was something she only read about in the newspaper. Instead, he took the key and inserted it into the lock.
The foyer was another well of midnight. Nerves prickling, he stepped inside, gun first. He moved past the stairs to peer down the hall. A weak beam of light embraced the opening of the kitchen doorway, but there wasn’t a sound from within.
Marly entered the hall and silently closed the front door. She waited motionless, ready to take her cue from him.
He would not let anyone hurt this woman.
Motioning to her to stay put, he started toward the light. Suddenly, the kitchen opening was blocked by a short, rotund figure. Only training and good reflexes kept him from pulling the trigger.
“Good. Come.” Emma’s whisper carried easily. She stepped back, out of sight. Sam moved cautiously, aware of Marly at his heels. As the soft yellow light grew brighter, he saw that it came from the door leading to Emma’s suite.
They entered her sitting room, a cozy private chamber with all the amenities of a small apartment. Emma eyed the weapon in his hand and nodded bleakly. Sam tucked it in his waistband, watching as Marly stepped forward to give the older woman a tight hug.
“Chris is there,” Emma said gesturing toward her bedroom.
“Chris is here? At the house?”
Marly sounded astonished. Sam found he wasn’t even surprised. He opened the bedroom door and stopped. The spotless room appeared empty. “Chris?”
Blond hair jutted up over the edge of the bed. “Sam?” The youngster started to stand, but paused, looking puzzled and unsure.
Sam reached up and pulled off the forgotten glasses. “It’s me, kid,” he drawled.
Chris scrambled around the double bed and launched himself into Sam’s arms. The small body trembled against his chest. Sam hugged him tightly, relieved the child was all right. He looked up and caught Marly watching.
“You okay?” Sam asked the boy.
Chris stepped back and nodded. “I was scared,” he admitted.
“Yeah. Me too, kid.”
“Hi, Chris,” Marly said.
The boy moved to share a hug with her as well. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s go in the other room and talk,” Sam suggested.
Emma returned from the kitchen with a pitcher of milk and slices of coconut cake. When she would have left, Marly held out a hand to stop her.
“You can stay, Emma.”
The woman shook her tightly permed head, but gave the three of them a reassuring smile before entering her bedroom and shutting the door.
“How did you get here? Why’d you leave the hospital, Chris?” Marly asked. “Your mother must be worried sick.”
Chris looked down at his knees and said nothing.
“Did it have anything to do with what happened the night I got shot, Chris?”
Gray eyes jerked up to meet Sam’s, fear etched clearly in their depths. Slowly, the small head nodded.
“Can you tell me what you saw that night?”
Chris hesitated, looking from one face to another. Sam could almost taste his fear. But it was up to the boy now. He either trusted them or he didn’t.
“I was looking for Jackie. My brother? I heard these two guys yelling at each other, so I hid so they wouldn’t see me. The cop sounded mad and real scary, but I couldn’t hear all the words. Then the other guy—the one with the white hair—he sort of laughed and said something that made the cop real mad.”
“How did you know the man was a cop?”
The small shoulders lifted and fell. “He said so. The guy with the white hair told him to put the gun away, and the other guy said, ‘You know better. I’m a cop. I’m just gonna shoot you.’ I decided I’d better get out of there, so I started going back to the road when you showed up.”
“Did they see you?” Sam asked.
The blond head bobbed once. “After he shot you, he came after me, but I hid until he went away. Then I found Jackie an’ I told him. He said I shouldn’t tell anyone else. He said no one would believe me an’ I’d go to jail or else the cop would come after me and kill me, too. I thought you were dead.” The last was offered quietly.
Sam swallowed at the images that came to mind. “It’s okay, Chris. You did the right thing, getting out of there.”
“Is Jackie your older brother?” Marly asked.
Even as Chris nodded, Sam remembered George telling him the boy and his brother had both been picked up that night.
“Your brother was doing something illegal, wasn’t he?” Sam asked. Chris hung his head without answering. “It’s not important, Chris. Did you see this cop at the hospital today? Is that why you ran away again?”
“Yeah.”
His answer was spoken so softly, Sam almost missed it. The boy was clearly terrified. “Can you tell me what he looks like?”
“He was big,” Chris said tentatively. “Like you.”
Well, that fit. Lee was the same general height and build. But so were a lot of other people. “What color hair?”
“I don’t know. Dark, I think. I didn’t get a good look at him.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “You were right to be scared. Did your brother see any of this?”
“No.”
“If you didn’t get a good look at him, how did you recognize the cop at the hospital?” Marly asked.
Chris shook his head. “I didn’t see him. I just heard him talking to Carter, in the hall.”
“You recognized his voice?” Sam asked in surprise.
“Uh-huh.”
There was nothing particularly distinctive about Lee’s voice, so what did that mean? Did Chris just have an ear for voices? Chris turned to Marly with a distressed expression before Sam could ask.
“I dropped Jerome’s watch in your barn the other night,” he confessed. “He really likes that watch. His dad gave it to him right before he died. Can you find it and get it back to him?”
Sam and Marly exchanged looks. The watch was sitting in an evidence bag at the local police headquarters.
“Sure, Chris. I’ll see he gets it back,” Marly promised.
“Good. I didn’t mean to take it. I found it an’ I was gonna give it back, only I forgot. And I didn’t mean to set fire to your field, either. I’m not gonna smoke anymore, ever.”
“That’s good, Chris. I’m glad,” she said patting his shoulder.
“What happened that night in the barn?” Sam asked.
Chris shrugged. “I was gonna hide in the loft until morning, but Carter and that mean cop came in. They were fighting.”
“The cop who shot Rayback?” Sam asked, instantly alert.
“No. The one who comes out here all the time and yells at Marly.”
“Duncan?” Marly supplied.
“Yeah. I don’t like him.”
“Neither does anyone else, Chris,” Sam assured him. “Why were he and Carter fighting?”
“’Cause of the goat. That cop wanted Carter to kill it and stuff its head in a box, but Carter didn’t want to.”
An oath escaped his lips. Chris didn’t even notice.
“Carter was the one who took the goat up in the loft the night you ran away?” Marly prodded gently.
“Uh-huh. I hid over near the other ladder until he left. That’s when I dropped Jerome’s watch. I figured I’d hide outside by the rocks instead, only I found the tunnel and fell down the hole and couldn’t get back out”
A flicker of movement drew Sam’s eyes toward the window that looked out over the backyard. The window was open, he realized. And someone was out there.
Marly followed his gaze, asking a silent question. Sam waved his hand, motioning her to keep talking. He brought out his gun and moved to the door leading into the kitchen.
“Why was Carter helping Officer Duncan?” he heard Marly ask. He didn’t wait for the boy’s answer. He opened the sliding glass door leading to the deck and stepped outside. The tall figure cro
uched beneath Emma’s window jerked upright at the sound of the door and turned to flee.
Sam shoved the gun in his waistband and leaped off the deck. He brought down the other figure with a flying tackle his high school coach would have been proud of. They rolled in the dirt for only a few seconds before Sam got his gun free again and jabbed it under the man’s chin. Carter stopped struggling, his eyes wide in the moonlight.
“Don’t shoot!”
“Give me a reason.”
“You’re a cop. You can’t shoot me in cold blood.”
“Try again. Or weren’t you listening back there? I don’t have a thing to lose.”
Carter swore. Sam could smell the sour scent of sweat pouring off the foreman. Beads of it ran unchecked down his face. He hauled the man to his feet. “Back to the house.”
As they stepped into the kitchen, Sam stopped abruptly. Emma stood in the doorway to her quarters, a businesslike revolver in her hands. It was pointed right at them.
In that instant, it crossed his mind that they had been seriously overlooking the silent housekeeper. “Emma?”
She lowered the barrel and stood back. Her eyes never left Carter.
Sam swallowed and shook his head. He was seeing villains under the carpeting. Emma was one of the good guys. Wasn’t she? He nudged Carter forward. “Yours?” he asked, indicating the gun in her hand.
“Matt’s.”
Sam eyed the forty-five. Somehow, he didn’t doubt the housekeeper could hit anything she fired at. He had a feeling Carter had the same impression. “I’m just inviting our foreman here to join the party.”
She stepped back, allowing them to pass. Sam felt certain that if the other man moved in a direction she didn’t like, Emma would point the business end of that weapon right at his midsection again. Carter skirted her as much as he could, stepping inside the small sitting room and heading straight for Marly.
“Hold it, Carter,” Sam barked. Marly had a protective arm around Chris, and she wisely tugged him back out of reach, allowing an armchair to come between them and her foreman.
Carter stopped. Emma brought the weapon up again, sighting it for good measure.
“For God’s sake, I wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Marly, you know me. Tell them to put those things away.”
Man Without A Badge Page 18
