Straight from the Heart

by Linda Warren

  LATER THAT WEEK, the reporters became more aggressive, trying to get into his office. He was at his wits’ end and finally issued a press release for Frank to read, hoping that would satisfy them.

  That afternoon, Blair slipped into his office and laid some papers on his desk. She wore a multicolored dress that buttoned up the front, showing off her slim hips and breasts. She wore her hair down these days, and he wondered if he had anything to do with that.

  She jabbed a finger at the papers. “Look at these.”

  There were several photos from the crime scene. Blair was so eager—so lovely—that it required every bit of discipline he possessed to concentrate on what she was saying.

  “The photographer was very thorough. He took photos of the crime scene and everything around it.” She pointed to the photo on top. “What does that look like to you?”

  He picked up the photo and studied it, then turned the picture over. On the back was written, “Located outside the perimeter of the crime scene, about fifty feet away. Pungent smell—appears to be disgorged stomach matter.”

  He glanced up and smiled. “This is where Blake threw up.”

  “Yes.” She smiled back. “This picture was mixed in with all the other ones, and I’m sure no one knew what it was, but we do. It proves Blake threw up, just like he said he did.”

  “This is going to help,” he told her. “Now let’s hope the photographer’s still around.”

  “I’ll track him down tomorrow,” she said excitedly. Despite her desire to help Blake, Lucas had an investigator who could do that much more easily than she could.

  “Blair…”

  A knock at the door stopped him. Blake walked in. “Ready to go, sis?” he asked.

  “I…I…” She hesitated. She wasn’t ready. She needed to talk to Lucas. Remembering an earlier comment of Lucas’s, she made a sudden decision. “The keys are in my purse in the library. You can drive yourself home.”

  Blake’s eyes opened wide. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, I’m not joking. It’s time you learned your way around Houston again.”

  “Dad’s not going to like this,” he said slowly. “I mean, he’s had someone with me ever since I’ve been home. I know he’s afraid…”

  The unfinished sentence hung between them. Lucas was right. Blake knew no one trusted him.

  Blair walked over and threw her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. “I trust you,” she said simply. “You came home to rectify this horrible situation, and that took a lot of courage.”

  Blake blinked back tears. He cupped Blair’s face in his hand and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

  She pushed out of his arms. “I know.” She smiled, playfully tapping his shoulder. “Just don’t wreck my car.”

  “I won’t,” Blake assured her, and glanced at Lucas. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll head home.”

  “I want to talk to you in the morning,” Lucas told him.

  “Sure,” Blake replied. “Has something happened?”

  “Just some details we need to discuss.”

  Blake groaned exaggeratedly. “Why is it necessary to go over this so many times?”

  “I’m sorry, it just is,” Lucas said.

  “Well, then, I guess I’ll keep talking,” he responded stoically. “Because I know you’re doing everything you can to help me, and I appreciate that. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just be here in the morning.”

  “I will.” Blake made his way to the door, then turned back. “How are you getting home, sis?”

  “I’m hoping a tall, handsome man will give me a lift,” she said cheekily.

  Blake’s eyebrows knotted together in disapproval. “That’s not funny, Blair.”

  “I think she’s talking about me,” Lucas broke in. “At least I hope she is.”

  Blair put her hands on her hips. “Will you two lighten up?”

  “I’ll get her home safely,” Lucas said to Blake.

  “Good.” His gaze swung to Blair. “Please don’t take any chances.”

  “Stop worrying about me.”

  “I will, if you’ll stop worrying about me,” Blake countered shrewdly. They embraced affectionately, and Lucas could feel the bond between them.

  After Blake left, Lucas leaned back in his chair with a mischievous expression on his face. “So I’m supposed to give you a ride home?”

  “Yes.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “It was your idea to give Blake some freedom, so now you have to be my taxi.”

  I’ll be anything you want.

  “But first let’s talk about the photo. I realize you didn’t want to mention it to Blake until we were sure, but it looks conclusive to me.” She was back to business quicker than his arousal could subside.

  “Blair,” he said tiredly. “It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted and hungry. Right now I just want to go home, grab a burger and a beer and just relax. We can talk about the photo tomorrow.”

  “Do you live on burgers?” she asked critically.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Sometimes, and sometimes a pretty woman offers to cook for me.”

  “Is that a hint?”

  “Can you cook?”

  “Of course,” she retorted. “My mother made sure of that.”

  “Then it’s a hint.” He grinned, his lighthearted mood returning. “You want a taxi and I want food.”

  And a whole lot more.

  “I’ll just grab my purse and be right with you,” she said, dashing through Joan’s office. In a minute she was back.

  “Let me guess,” she said as they walked through the door. “You’re a meat-and-potatoes guy.”

  “Yep, and don’t you forget it.”

  Blair smiled all the way to his car. It felt so good to be with him again—to talk, to laugh. She didn’t know what this evening was going to bring, but she intended to make the most of it.

  On the drive, they discussed the trial, and Lucas talked about his visit with his brother. She wondered if he’d ever take her to meet Jacob and his family. She sincerely hoped so.

  As they drove up to the entrance, she waved to the guard who opened the gate for them. Lucas parked in her spot and they got out and began to walk to her apartment. Suddenly they came to a complete stop.

  “No, no, no,” she cried as she stared at her front door.

  In slashing red letters were the words, I’ll get you, bitch.

  Lucas was in shock for a second, then he grabbed her and hauled her shaking body to the car. “Get inside, Blair,” he ordered, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was still lurking in the vicinity.

  “Lucas, what’s happening?” she asked in a voice that twisted his insides.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “What’s the guard number?”

  She gave it to him, surprised she could actually remember it in her dazed state.

  Lucas reached across her for the cell phone. “Get over to apartment twenty-four now,” he shouted into the phone.

  The guard must have said something, because Lucas shouted again, “I said now!”

  In a moment they could see the guard running through the darkness toward them. “What’s going on? I can’t leave my post,” he said, panting.

  Lucas pointed to the door. “How in hell did that happen?”

  “Oh my God,” the guard gasped. “I have to call for backup. Someone has to stay at the gate.”

  In a matter of minutes, the place was overrun with people and uniformed police. Lucas was pacing, demanding answers. Blair sat in the car with her hands locked tightly in her lap. She could no longer feel her fingers but still didn’t release her grip. She lived in a gated, secure complex. No one could get in here. She’d told herself that so many times, especially when fear threatened her fragile emotions. No one could get in here. The words always calmed her, made her feel safe. But now…now all that security was blown to hell. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to
cry, but she didn’t. She wanted to run, but she didn’t do that, either. She kept her eyes on Lucas, counting on him to keep her safe. That frightened her, too. She shouldn’t rely on him so much. But she did.

  She heard a siren, saw Roger pull up behind them. He jumped out and ran to her side. “Are you all right?” he asked through the car window.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  He frowned at the door. “Goddamn bastard. Don’t worry, I’ll get whoever did this.”

  Blair nodded again, unable to speak, but feeling the urge to flee—with Lucas.

  “Sit tight,” Roger said. “I’ll check things out, and after that I’ll take you to your parents’.”

  Blair started to protest, then stopped. Her brain was on overload, but one thing was clear: She wasn’t going anywhere with Roger.

  The apartment manager joined the group just as Roger did. Raised voices went over her head as her eyes traveled to the door. I’ll get you, bitch. I’ll get you, bitch. The fear tried to capture her mind, her emotions, but she fought back. She wasn’t giving in; she wasn’t letting it control her. But she had to leave, and soon. Lucas, please!

  As her eyes found Lucas, she saw that he and Roger were confronting each other a few yards away. Their voices were loud, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  “What are you doing here?” Roger wanted to know.

  “What am I doing here?” Lucas repeated sarcastically. “This is a secure apartment complex and someone came right up to her door and spray-painted a welcoming message and you’re worried what I’m doing here.”

  “Cool it, Lucas,” Roger said in a forbidding tone.

  “I thought you were watching Easton! I thought you had this damn thing under control.”

  “It isn’t Easton. He’s out of town.” Roger gestured at the door. “This looks like the work of Raye’s gang.”

  “Raye’s going away for the rest of his life. How the hell would his gang benefit from frightening Blair?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find out.”

  “When you do, give me a call,” Lucas muttered. “Right now I’m getting Blair the hell out of here.”

  “Where are you taking her?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “I’ll take care of her. You just worry about the trial. Leave her alone.”

  Lucas moved close to Roger’s face, dark eyes boring into him. “I told you before—don’t warn me again, Roger.”

  “Calm down and look at this realistically.”

  “Yeah, right.” Lucas swung away. “You catch this creep and then I’ll look at it realistically.” Lucas walked toward his car.

  “Lucas,” Roger called, but Lucas ignored him.

  He got into the car and drove away from the apartment complex, maneuvering around various police vehicles. He stopped when he arrived at the street, then turned toward Blair. She was staring down at her hands, her hair hiding her face.

  “Blair,” he whispered, gently touching her cheek. “It’s all right.”

  Her hands shook, and he reached down and caught them, prying her fingers apart. “It’s all right,” he said again, wanting to ease her pain but knowing there was very little he could do.

  “It’s not all right,” she whispered. “Someone wants to hurt me, and I…” She glanced at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m so afraid.”

  He rubbed her hands. “That’s understandable, but Roger will catch the guy. He seems to have a personal stake in this.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice catching. “I’ve told him I can’t—that I don’t feel the same way, but he doesn’t seem to listen.”

  Tears ran down her face, and he brushed them away with his thumb. Blair thought of Roger as a friend; that was all Lucas needed to hear.

  “Do you have a tissue?” she asked. She’d been determined not to cry, but now she couldn’t help it.

  He opened the console, rummaged around and pulled out something. “I don’t have a tissue, but I have these.” He held up her panty hose.

  Through the pain, a gurgle of laughter escaped her and she snatched them out of his hand. “What would your nephews think if they found these in your car?” Her eyes were watery, her emotions still shaky, but laughter was releasing the fear.

  “They’d think their uncle was very naughty—and Miranda would have my hide.”

  She dabbed at her eyes with the panty hose. “Then it’s not a common occurrence to find ladies’ underthings in your car?”

  “Hardly.” He raised his eyebrows. “The rumors you’ve heard about me are highly exaggerated.”

  “Are they?” she asked, blinking back tears.

  “Yes,” he assured her. “Now I think its time to get you to your parents’.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No, Lucas, please.”

  “Blair,” he sighed softly. “You can’t stay in your apartment. Someone knows how to get past the guard without being detected. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I know, but I can’t go to my parents’ just yet. They’ll fuss and worry and…and smother me. I can’t handle that.”

  “Okay,” Lucas said, trying to understand what she was feeling, what she was asking. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t…I…” She paused, then lifted her eyes to his. “I know the perfect place.”

  His eyebrows lifted again. “Do we need airline tickets to get there?” he asked jokingly.

  “No, it’s about forty minutes out of Houston. Remember I told you about my grandparents’ farm?”

  “Yes.”

  “We can go there. It’s quiet and out of the way. The place belongs to my mom and Uncle Howard now. They grew up there, so I guess that’s why they never sold it. The house is vacant and Uncle Howard leases the land. I go there a lot just to get away. It’s very relaxing. Sometimes Uncle Howard goes with me.”

  Lucky Uncle Howard.

  “Howard grew up on a farm?”

  “Yes, he did. Just ask him and he’ll tell you all about it.” She smiled unsteadily. “He’s been like a second father to Blake and me.”

  For some reason, Lucas thought of his own father—how alike he feared they were and fervently hoped they weren’t. But he couldn’t brood about that now. He had to consider Blair and her safety—nothing else. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “It doesn’t sound too safe.”

  “But you’ll stay with me, won’t you?” There was a note of alarm in her voice.

  “Of course,” he answered immediately. He would do everything he could to make her feel secure. “But you have to call your parents first.”

  “Lucas.” She closed her eyes.

  “As soon as Roger wraps up his investigation, he’ll call them,” he said logically. “It’s better if they hear the story from you.” He handed her the cell phone.

  She eyed him crossly, then took it. She didn’t want to talk to anybody, but she had no choice.

  Lucas pulled out into traffic. “How do we get to this farm?”

  “Take the 610 Loop, then U.S. 290 north,” she told him, and poked out her parents’ number.

  From what Lucas could hear, her parents were upset and asking her to come home, but Blair refused. He could see the strong will Sam had talked about. It had kept her going for the past sixteen years and it was sustaining her now.

  As she hung up, she said, “We have to stop for groceries. There’s no food at the house.”

  Lucas drove into a supermarket parking lot on the outskirts of town. “I don’t know if this is wise. Too many people around.”

  “You don’t think someone’s following us, do you?” Her eyes grew enormous.

  “Probably not, but I just want to be careful.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, opening her purse. “I have my friend with me.”

  Lucas stared at the small revolver in shock. “You carry a gun?” It suddenly hit him that this was the “friend” she’d been talking about that day in his office—not Roger.

  “Yes, Dad got it for me after the
attack. I was scared of it for a long time, but I still carried it. A weapon gives me a measure of…reassurance. Uncle Howard taught me how to shoot about ten years ago, and I’m not afraid of the gun anymore. Roger also gave me lessons. But I don’t know if I could use it. I hope I never have to find out.”

  All at once, he realized the fear she lived with every single day of her life. How it controlled her every thought, her every move. He also realized that she couldn’t go on like this. The situation had to be resolved and she had to find a life without fear—without a gun. Someway, somehow, he had to make that happen.

  “Let’s hope we won’t need it.” He gave a long sigh. “Now, why don’t we buy some food and find this farm.”

  They quickly bought what they needed and drove out of town. Soon Blair directed him to a freeway exit. They took a paved road, then turned onto a gravel road that led to the farm. Cornfields and cotton fields lay on either side, and a small house appeared in the headlights—white frame with black shutters and a picket fence. Just what Lucas had expected.

  “Go around to the back,” Blair instructed.

  As he did, he could make out a garage and several barns. He parked by the gate and turned off the engine.

  They sat for a moment, then she asked, “Do you hear it?”

  Lucas listened closely, but didn’t hear a thing. “What?”

  “The silence—the unending silence. No traffic, no people, no offensive noises. Just blissful silence. That’s why I love it. The nature, the peace and serenity. I can get my thoughts together here, and somehow I can deal with everything in my life when I’ve spent time at the farm.”

  “My brother, Jacob, would love you.”

  “Why? Does he like the silence, too?”

  Lucas nodded. “After his wife and son died, he lived in the Texas Hill Country for five years, completely alone except for his dog. No modern conveniences.”

  “I couldn’t do that. I’d have to go shopping at least once.” A bubbly laugh left her throat, and he knew this place was magical for her. She was much better than she was an hour ago, and by morning she’d be better still.

  Lucas got the groceries out of the car and they walked up the path to the back door. A motion light came on, illuminating the yard. The grass was lushly green and he saw flower beds with roses, shrubs and various flowers. Blair reached for a key above the door and opened it. They entered a long, screened-in porch and walked into a small kitchen. Blair was flipping lights on as she went. The kitchen was white and green, and Lucas set the groceries on the heavy oak table. Blair ran into the living room; Lucas followed. There was a large fireplace on one wall; an area rug occupied the center and various pieces of antique furniture were grouped around the room.