by B. J Daniels
He eyed her in the ambient light coming from the security light out front as if trying to gauge if he could trust her.
“Darby,” she said impatiently. “You can trust me.”
“I have to wonder about that, little sis.”
She pushed open the door and started to go upstairs, but her brother stopped her.
“Let’s talk in the bar.” He sounded so disappointed in her that she felt like crying. She knew it was a culmination of everything that had finally caught up with her.
* * *
TRASK DROVE BY the saloon and saw Flint drop Lillie off. He was going to circle around and come back when Darby showed up. As much as he wanted to see Lillie, he was glad Darby was there. At least she wasn’t alone.
He’d done what she asked, stayed in the mountains as long as he could. The more he’d thought about everything, though, the more he’d known he couldn’t keep hiding out.
They’d stirred things up and now the killer was running scared. Why else bomb the cabin? Run Lillie off the road in an attempt to scare her. Or kill her? Either way, there was no going back now. They must be getting close to the truth.
Now that he knew Lillie was safe, he drove by Skip Fairchild’s house. If Johnny didn’t kill Gordon and his father didn’t, then that left the other partner.
Fairchild’s sports car wasn’t out front in the circular driveway. Nor did it appear to be in the three-car garage.
On impulse, Trask drove out to the construction site. The little red sports car was parked in front of the office.
He could see that a piece of plywood had been tacked over the window Johnny had shattered to make his break-in look real.
That he was still covering tracks for his thieving father was beyond Trask. But then again he’d never had a good relationship with his own father. Nor had his father taken that kind of interest in him.
Parking outside the mangled gate, he got out and slipped through the fence. He knew he was taking a chance confronting Skip Fairchild, but he’d already decided to turn himself in to Flint.
Lillie was determined to help him find the killer, and after what had happened earlier, he knew he had to do something to stop her.
At this time of day, Trask figured Fairchild wouldn’t have bothered to lock the office door. He was right. When he turned the knob, the door swung in.
Fairchild sat behind his desk in his office. He glanced up, fear instantly tightening the features of his boyish face. He quickly reached for his phone.
“You might want to put that phone down,” Trask said as he entered the office and pulled up a chair in front of Fairchild’s desk. “I know about you and Brittany.”
Fairchild’s hand froze, the phone in it. “What are you talking about?”
“The little thing you have going on with mother—and daughter.”
The man let out a laugh. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he slowly put the phone back in its cradle. “What do you want?”
“I need to know if you killed Gordon.”
He let out a snort. “Of course not. Why would I?”
“For obvious reasons. You wanted his wife. And his daughter apparently.”
He shook his head. “You have things so wrong. Caroline was divorcing Gordon. If I wanted her, I didn’t have to kill her husband to get her.”
“And Brittany?”
Skip took a deep breath as he looked toward the door before shifting his gaze back to Trask. “I don’t know what you’ve found out, but I’m certainly not having an affair with Brittany. She’s my daughter.”
Trask stared at him. “What?”
The man laughed, clearly delighted to have surprised him. “Gordon’s first wife, Clare...” He shrugged. “She quickly tired of Gordon as did his second wife.”
“Did Gordon know about Brittany?”
Again Skip drew his gaze away. “He’d suspected that Brittany wasn’t his, just Patrick, and that was enough to make Gordon bad tempered. Brittany was bright and beautiful. Patrick was, well, Patrick, weird and rather disturbing.”
“So other than possibly Brittany’s paternity, was there another reason Gordon was leaving the construction company?”
Skip leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure you’ve already heard that J.T. was stealing money from the construction company?”
Trask nodded. “Gordon found out and was going to call the sheriff. It would have destroyed your business. You both had good reason to kill Gordon.”
“True enough. He was a miserable human being. He made everyone around him unhappy, but the man knew how to make money,” Fairchild said wistfully. “Sorry, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. J.T. and I certainly aren’t sorry Gordon is dead, but neither of us had what it would take to kill him. If anyone murdered Gordon, it was you.” He reached for the phone and Trask stood.
“One more question, why didn’t you turn J.T. in for embezzling the money?” he asked.
“Ever heard the expression you can’t get money out of a turnip? I wanted to recoup what I could out of him.” He shrugged. “But sometimes you have to cut your losses.”
For the first time, he noticed the boxes half-packed around the office. Skip was closing up shop. “Call the sheriff. While you’re at it, tell him about all your secrets, because if you don’t, I will.”
* * *
DARBY PULLED OUT a chair for Lillie at one of the tables in the center of the bar and, turning another chair, flipped it backward and straddled it. He leaned his elbows on the back and stared at her as she sat down across from him.
“How long has Trask been back?” he asked.
Her throat felt dry as dust. She swallowed. “How did you find out?”
He gave his head a slight shake and waited for her to answer his question.
“A few days.”
“The day you said you saw the bear out back.” He didn’t wait for her to confirm it. “What does he want?”
“Want? He’s come back to clear his name.”
“Clear his name,” Darby repeated.
“He didn’t kill Gordon Quinn.”
“And you know that, how?”
She could see where this was headed. “He didn’t do it. Why would he come back knowing that he’s a wanted man if he had done it?”
His voice remained conversational. But she knew he was furious with her. “What does he want with you?”
Lillie looked away. “He wants me back.”
Her brother shook his head as he gave her a pitying look. “Lillie, don’t you think I’ve seen the change in you. You’re late for work. You always show up looking like you did when you’d been making out in the backseat of a car. You’re often flushed, your eyes too bright. It’s been a while, but I know the look. You’ve fallen for him again. What has he gotten you involved in this time?”
“It isn’t like that. I love him. I’m helping him find Gordon’s killer.”
“Oh, Lillie,” Darby said and swore. “You’re scaring the hell out of me right now.”
“Trask didn’t do it.” She felt tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. “If I call Flint, he’ll find him, and if one of his fool deputies doesn’t kill Trask, he’ll lock him up.”
Her brother shook his head. “You’re exhausted from all this. You’re not thinking clearly. If he’s innocent, Flint will prove it. He is better equipped than you are. Surely you realize that.”
Darby sounded so sensible, so reasonable, so grown-up. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and then met her gaze.
“I’ll do it,” she said, her throat constricting with unshed tears as she took the phone from him. “I’m sorry I lied to you.” After everything that had happened, she figured the safest place Trask could be right now was in jail.
Lillie dialed t
he number.
Flint answered on the second ring. “What’s wrong?”
She rolled her eyes. She called him so little that when he saw it was from her he instantly thought something was wrong? She took a breath. “Trask is back in town.”
Silence. Then Flint said, “I know. He’s standing right in front of me.”
It took her a moment to shake off her surprise. “Then do your job. Arrest him.” She disconnected and looked at Darby. “Trask had already turned himself in.”
Her brother nodded and stood. “You should get some rest.”
She couldn’t imagine, even as exhausted as she was, how she would be able to sleep. She was in too much pain, both physical and emotional. What would happen to Trask now if the real killer wasn’t caught?
“I’m staying down here tonight.” She started to argue, but he stopped her. “I’m staying. Period. I’ll get my stuff from my truck.”
It hurt her physically to have her twin mad at her. They’d always been so close. “Please, I can’t bear us not being best friends.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Lillie, nothing could change that. I’m scared for you and sad. I know you love him. I was just worried how far you would go to be with him.”
She said nothing around the lump in her throat.
* * *
FLINT HAD JUST gotten home when there was a knock at his door. He’d been half hoping it was Maggie. It wasn’t. He’d opened the door and stared at Trask Beaumont, telling himself he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. Just then Lillie had called.
After disconnecting from his sister, he looked at the young man who’d stolen her heart.
“I heard you’ve been looking for me,” Trask said. “We need to talk.”
Flint nodded slowly, his mind reeling as he stepped aside to let the man in. “I didn’t kill Gordon. I came back to clear my name. Lillie—”
“I know she’s been helping you. I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about her pickup being run off the road yesterday.”
“I was on the phone with her when it happened. That’s why I’m here. I doubt you can stop Lillie any more than I can, so I suggest you find Gordon’s killer and fast. Lillie’s in danger.”
Flint swore under his breath. “Whose fault is that?”
“Mine. Which is the reason I can’t be behind bars right now. I have to keep your sister safe. I’ve hired a lawyer. I need to make bail right away.”
“On a murder case?”
“If the sheriff has faith that I won’t skip town...”
Flint studied the man his sister had fallen so desperately in love with. “How do I know you won’t leave again?”
“Because I’m not that kid anymore. Also, I love your sister. I’m never leaving her again. And why would I turn myself in if I plan to run? I could have just stayed gone.”
“Turning yourself in will go a long way with the judge,” Flint said. “I’ll do what I can for you, but the two of you have to stop your investigation.”
“I hope you can convince Lillie of that.”
Flint thought about how his sister was going to take the news if he arrested Trask. If anything, she would be more determined to clear this cowboy.
“She isn’t going to stop looking for Gordon’s killer,” Trask said. “I think you know that. It’s getting more dangerous.”
“She’s going around town accusing people of murder and she didn’t realize how badly this could go?”
“She loves me and I love her.”
Flint groaned. “She wants me to arrest you. I think she’s hoping you’ll be safer in jail.”
Trask shook his head. “You know I have a better chance of protecting her in this than you. You can’t be with her 24/7. I can.”
“You’re the reason people are trying to kill her.”
“That’s why I have to be out. We’re getting close to finding the killer.”
“That’s my job,” Flint snapped.
Trask just looked at him.
“Johnny Burrows called earlier. He told me everything, including that he was the man Brittany saw leaving the stables that night—not you. So apparently she was mistaken.”
“Or lying.”
“Either way, I don’t have enough evidence to arrest you.”
* * *
LILLIE WATCHED HER twin disappear into the dark before she headed upstairs. She couldn’t stand the disappointment in her brother’s eyes. At least in her apartment she could be alone. She desperately wanted to talk to Trask. Tomorrow she would visit the jail. She would see about hiring him a good lawyer.
She felt bereft. Darby was right. She would have given up everything nine years ago and run away with Trask. Worse, she would have done it now if Trask had wanted to run again. What would she do now if he went to prison?
Pushing open her apartment door, she froze. For a moment she felt disoriented. She was sure she’d locked her door. Just as she was sure she’d left a light on. Had the power gone off?
She started to look behind her to see if the security light in the kitchen was on. She caught only a glimpse of the light glowing below her when she remembered that she hadn’t used her key downstairs, either. The door had been open.
Terror coursed through her an instant before her arm was grabbed and she was jerked into her apartment. She caught a rank smell, heard movement both behind and in front of her.
A hand clamped over her mouth. An arm wrapped around her waist and she was slammed into a body that smelled both bad—and familiar.
“Make a peep and I’m gonna hurt ya,” Emery Perkins said next to her ear.
“Your brother still down there?” Emery asked.
She managed to shake her head, suddenly terrified for Darby.
“You lyin’ to me? Won’t do ya no good. Vernon’s down there. He’ll take care a him if he don’t leave.”
She shook her head again and tried to cry out—until she felt the cold biting blade of Emery’s knife. Her skin burned red-hot where he’d nicked her skin.
“Ya make another sound and I’ll cut ya bad, ya hear?”
There was nothing she could do. She just prayed that Vernon didn’t hurt Darby badly.
“Okay, now yer goin’ to call Trask.”
Lillie’s mind raced. Trask had turned himself in to Flint. They were probably on their way to the sheriff’s office right now.
“Ya hear me?” he demanded.
She nodded.
He sighed as she heard heavy footfalls on the steps. Vernon appeared in the ambient light from downstairs.
“You take care of the problem?” Emery asked.
“He’s sleeping like a baby.”
Lillie felt a wave of relief that made her knees go weak. At least Vernon hadn’t killed Darby.
“I’m goin’ to take my hand off yer mouth. Ya start screamin’ or ya lie to me and I’m goin’ to hurt ya.”
She gagged at the stench of him and wiped her mouth the moment he removed his hand. “I don’t know where he is.”
Emery swore. “Yer lyin’.” He slapped her with his free hand, making her cheek burn as if on fire and her head snap back.
“I’m not.”
“Betcha ya can call ’im. Don’t pretend ya don’t know his number.”
“I need a phone.”
“She’s needs a phone,” Emery said, mocking her. “Like you don’t own a cell phone.”
“I was in an accident yesterday. I lost my phone. I’ll have to use the landline on the kitchen wall.” She started to move toward the stairs when Emery stopped her.
“We’ll all go.”
Vernon had stepped into her still dark apartment. She heard him trip over something and begin to hop around from the sound of it, mewing like a kitten in
his pain.
“Turn on the damned light,” Emery snapped.
“Why don’t you let me get it,” she told Emery as she put a little distance between them to turn on the light. Vernon had stopped hopping on his good leg and was now holding his hurt knee.
Emery swore but motioned for her to start down the stairs. She quickly considered her options. Making a run for it wasn’t one of them.
Going for her gun in her bedroom was also not an option. She could feel Emery watching her, waiting for her to try something. He was small and fast and mean.
She led the way downstairs to the small kitchen and started to reach for the phone when Emery snatched it out of her hands.
“Ya call him. I’ll do the talkin’,” he said, handing her back the phone.
Trask might already be in jail. She hoped that he was still at Flint’s house. She dialed the number. Flint answered on the first ring.
“Lillie?” Flint asked.
“Trask, Emery—” Before she could finish, Emery grabbed the phone.
“Trask? I have somethin’ ya might want,” Emery said into the phone. “Think ya might want to renegotiate to get ’er back?”
She heard a sound behind her. A moment later, Vernon dropped a large burlap bag over her head. She hadn’t been watching the other man. She screamed and tried to fight him off her. The blow to her head made everything go black.
* * *
TRASK GRIPPED THE phone as he listened to Emery’s demands. Emery didn’t really expect him to come up with that kind of money tonight, did he? His gaze was on Flint. The sheriff was watching him after motioning for him to take the extension. “If you hurt her—”
“Yer in no position to be makin’ no demands. Ya just listen up. Meet us at the pond. Ya know which one. Come alone and bring the ten grand or yer girlfriend is goin’ to pay in ways I know ya don’t even want to think about.” The line went dead.
“I take it you know the caller?” Flint demanded.
“Emery Perkins and a man named Vernon.”
“I remember Emery.” Flint swore. “I’ll take care of this.”
