Love Under Two Loners [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  The way Estevez framed the question made Rich realize there was an important fact the fed didn’t know. “Special Agent, there are several young women attending this school on the same kind of scholarship as Miss Crane.” Rich approved of the anger on the investigator’s face. Rich’s own ire grew. He’d bet every one of those recipients was being used in the same disgusting manner as Miss Crane. “Officially, they’re scholarships established as a memorial to Bernard Swift, an industrialist and philanthropist who’d been a personal friend to the school’s founder, Edwina Claymore. I don’t know much more about them than that. When I talked with the registrar’s office the other day—because I was concerned about Miss Crane having apparently quit right out of the blue—they offered me that tidbit of information, but nothing else. Except to say that they hadn’t been informed of Miss Crane’s departure and seemed quite upset about the matter.”

  “Dr. Kendall, you alerted the registrar’s office about Miss Crane not being at school?”

  “Of course I did. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I have no damned idea who’s involved in this thing—or even how big it is.” Estevez ran his hand through his hair. “Part of me wants you to look and see if there’s anything there, some note or other clue Dr. Broderick might have secreted away someplace. And the other part wants you to get the hell out of there as fast as you can. I don’t believe the students are in any danger, but because you made a noise about Miss Crane having gone missing, you might be.”

  It was on the tip of Rich’s tongue to assure Estevez he could take care of himself. Then the door to his office opened, and a man he’d never met stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and had his gaze fixed squarely on Rich, his expression that of a man thoroughly pissed off. But that wasn’t what had Rich Kendall worried. Aware he only had a moment to warn Lyons and Estevez before they spoke and gave away their video presence, he addressed himself to his visitor.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here, and why do you have a gun pointed at me?”

  Chapter 19

  Iris had just hung up the phone and was making a notation on her spreadsheet for this latest appointment when Donny came into the clinic. He’d been out on a couple of morning ranch calls—the first one over at the Healing Rides compound to look at one of the horses who was off his feed and the second at the Benedict North Ranch to, she winced at her mental pun, take stock of their situation.

  The latter was an introductory visit, giving Dr. Kendall a chance to meet with the ranchers and get an idea of what their future needs were going to be.

  To Iris’s eyes, the man looked delicious, if rumpled. “You look beat, boss. Heavy morning?”

  “Not so much, it’s just hot. I guess all the times I was warned how hot it could get down here didn’t really sink in.”

  “Maybe because you’d never been working here before in the heat,” Iris said. She’d known a couple of people who’d relocated from up north, and it was always the same story. They were glad to be done with knee-deep snow but not so happy about sweating buckets for a good part of the year.

  “I think you’re probably right about that. Heat aside, the morning was not without its highlights. I got to watch for a few minutes while Trace and Lucas put some riders—on Benedict horses—through something they called bulldogging practice.”

  “I didn’t know they were getting ready to rodeo!” When Donny didn’t seem to make the connection, she chuckled. “They told you it was bulldogging practice, and then didn’t explain what that was, right?”

  Donny grinned. “Yeah, I figured out they were having fun with the Yankee—an example of cousin-speak at its finest. I also didn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing I didn’t know what they were talking about. I can look wise and inscrutable when the situation calls for it.”

  “Bulldogging is a rodeo event, more properly known as steer wrestling. I think there’re some videos on YouTube that show the event and a few that highlight training methods.” She grinned. “I’ll ask around and find out if there are other rodeo disciplines they’re hoping to crack.”

  “Good idea. We could do some research for the next time. I did get the impression their main interest was in training the horses for the event and sponsoring a rider or two.”

  “Well, that would make sense. From what I’ve learned since coming to Lusty, Cord and Jackson Benedict are in charge of the bovine portion of their joint enterprise while Chase and Brian are more into breeding horses. If a breeder can produce good quality animals to compete in rodeo, and if they can furnish some good rough stock as well, then they have a better chance of building a business. Rodeo’s like family, and once you’re in, you’re in.”

  “Well, I was impressed by the quality of the horses they have there and the care they take of them. We’ll set up a file for each of the ranches. These particular Benedicts want us to check out each new equine addition as it’s born, but I also want to maintain a record of their breeding stock.”

  “I can set up a database for that.”

  “Great.” As he’d been talking he placed the case he’d taken with him into the slot on the shelf where it belonged. There was a sink right there, so he washed his hands. Drying them, he turned to lean against the counter. Iris had to swivel her chair slightly to see him. He gave her a look that let her know he wasn’t seeing his assistant just then, but his woman. “It’s just about lunch time,” Donny said. “You want to put the phones on the answering machine for an hour or so, go up to the house and…have lunch with me?”

  “That’s a good idea since I am a little hungry,” Iris said. She was always hungry for one or both of these dynamic men. She’d mentioned the night before that she’d felt she needed to spend some private, one-on-one time with Rich, just as she was able to do with Donny. Rich explained that he and Donny weren’t keeping track of who did what to whom and when or how often. She appreciated that. But she explained to them it wasn’t about her needing to give them equal time, per se. She simply needed Rich just as much as she needed his brother.

  Soon, she hoped, they’d start putting into practice some of the scenes they’d been discussing. She trusted them completely. She wasn’t afraid to step out on faith with these two Doms and cede complete control to them. She very much wanted to experience that side of her personality.

  “Then come into the house with me and let me see what I can do about satisfying your hunger.” The way his voice dipped caused shivers to run up her arms and her nipples to draw tight.

  Talk about making her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Iris took only a moment to set up the phone so that any incoming calls would go straight to the machine. Then she got up, and when Donny held his hand out, she placed hers in it. He pulled her close and laid his lips on hers. His kiss was sweet, soft, and sexy as hell. She opened her mouth, inviting his exploration, begging him to take them deeper. Arousal, hot and heady, began to flow though her veins, igniting little fires along the way.

  Donny broke their kiss and gave her a look that let her know how much he wanted her. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it then held it while he led her out of the clinic. He kept hold of her hand as he locked the door and pocketed the key. Then he led her toward the house, her hand still wrapped solidly in his.

  He squeezed her hand as the sheriff’s cruiser pulled into the driveway, lights flashing. The driver’s door sprung open, and Adam stepped out of the vehicle, but he didn’t move away from the car.

  “I just got a call from Houston, from a federal agent named Ramon Estevez. Rich is in trouble. Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  “You don’t need to know who I am, Dr. Kendall. All you need to do is close your homework there and come with me. You’ll walk ahead of me and speak to no one. If you engage anyone in conversation, if you attempt to call out for help, I will kill you and whoever you speak to. Do you understand me?”

  The man with the gun appeared well dressed, educated, even urbane. Rich didn’t think there w
as madness in his eyes—the kind of soul-deep insanity one might expect to find in a gun-wielding man bent on kidnapping and possibly murder.

  Rich was very conscious of the two men on the other end of the Skype screen who were completely aware of what was going on. He tried to stall, knowing every minute would work toward his rescue or escape. “Why don’t you just kill me here and save yourself the trouble of trying to sneak out of a college building unnoticed?”

  “I’m not planning on killing you here, unless you force me to, in which case that will be totally on you. We’re just going to take a little ride together, and then later—likely tonight—you’re going to have an unfortunate accident.” Then he tilted his head to one side. “But make no mistake. I’ll use this gun if I have to. And hell, if I have to kill you right here and now, I might as well see how many other people—men, women, girls—I can gun down while I’m at it.”

  Rich didn’t feel particularly brave. He didn’t like his chances of his surviving once they left the school, and he sure as hell didn’t like the idea of this man, whoever he was, following through with that vile promise. Still, he couldn’t put aside his anger—or his curiosity. “I’m going to have an accident?” Then a puzzle piece fell into place. “You mean the same way Professor Broderick had an accident?”

  “You’re smarter than he was. I’ll give you that. But not smart enough to keep your nose out of what doesn’t concern you. What the fuck is wrong with you academic types that you can’t leave well enough alone? He started poking around in what didn’t concern him, and see where it got him? That should tell you I’m serious. Now stop stalling, Dr. Kendall. Close that computer and let’s go. And remember, if anyone gets in our way, it’ll be their life as well as yours.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me where you’re taking me?”

  “Out into the middle of fucking nowhere. Now move it.”

  Rich figured he’d done all he could. He let his gaze flick down to the screen on his laptop. Christopher Lyons was still sitting there and met his gaze. He gave him a nod. Behind him, Estevez had his phone to his ear and wore an expression that, strangely, gave Rich a sense of confidence.

  The instant his device closed, the Skype connection—and the hotspot Wi-Fi connection—would both be broken. If someone opened the laptop again, all they’d find—if they could successfully enter his password—was his very boring desktop wallpaper. No one would know what he’d been doing, and that suited Rich fine.

  He closed the laptop and stood slowly, not looking away from the man with the gun. He reached out for his jacket that hung on the back of his chair. He raised one eyebrow, and the man nodded, indicating with his handgun that he should put it on.

  His visitor stepped out of the way and signaled for Rich to precede him out of his office. Rich noticed he’d put the hand holding the gun into his jacket pocket. A little conspicuous but he’d bet no one would notice because no one would be looking for something like that.

  Rich could only hope there weren’t any students lolling about. Most of them should be in their various classes. The security guard at the end of the hall only glanced up but apparently saw nothing out of the ordinary, which told him this man, whoever he was, was known to him. They were nearly at the front entrance when a voice called out.

  “Victor, what are you doing?” Edith Claymore’s voice came from down the hallway toward her office. Rich wondered if it was his imagination that she sounded aghast.

  The man—Victor, apparently—grabbed his arm, halting his progress. The sound of heels on marble told Rich the dean approached them at a fair pace. Edith came close and stood nearly between them, her gaze bouncing between Victor and him. And then she focused on the way Victor had his hand in his pocket. She must have understood exactly what was happening.

  Rich didn’t think he’d ever seen a person’s skin actually turn pasty before.

  “You called me in a panic because your new teacher here was asking too many questions about Marcia Crane. You begged me to do something.” His words hissed out of him, his anger damn near hot enough to set them all on fire. No one else was close enough to hear his words. Even though Rich figured he might have been able to get away from Victor, he couldn’t risk the security guard, still visible but with attention on his desk and obviously an innocent bystander, getting shot. “This is me doing something. So go back to your office, you stupid bitch, and let me do your dirty work for you. Again.”

  Edith’s complexion became even more ashen, if that was possible. “What…what do you mean, again? Victor, what else have you done?”

  “You seriously can’t be that stupid.”

  Edith took two steps back, as if she’d been slapped. Rich didn’t know how involved Edith had been with the “service” required of scholarship recipients. He figured the purpose of the entire scheme had been to make money. But he’d bet Edith Claymore had had no idea what sort of man she’d climbed into bed with, figuratively speaking.

  Victor pushed on Rich’s shoulder, and Rich had no choice but to let the man steer him out of the building toward the parking lot.

  “I believe that Buick over there is yours? Let’s go for a ride, shall we? You drive. My hands are busy at the moment.”

  Rich thought of all the novels he’d read where the poor, stupid bastard of a victim had gone along with the villain and gotten into the car—and then been driven out to the boonies to meet his end with a bullet shot into his head.

  Maybe it was time to rewrite that classic plot and give it a new twist. Maybe it was thinking about Professor Broderick, and maybe it was thinking about Marcia Crane, that gave Rich the courage to make the decision.

  He’d crash the car into a tree or a fence, or even a building, before he let Victor escape completely unscathed. And if that opportunity didn’t arise, he’d watch and wait and take the first moment the man was distracted to take him down—armed or not.

  Rich didn’t feel he could fight him here, where anyone could wander into harm’s way. But he would fight him, no matter the cost to himself.

  Chapter 20

  Iris held on to Donny’s arm, certain her grip was so tight he’d have marks there from her fingernails. They were observers here, only. Iris was so damn glad to at least be in the loop, and from the profound attention Donny paid to the cops on the scene, she knew he felt the same way.

  They were gathered behind an abandoned gas station, about a half-mile from where Rich’s cell phone silently transmitted its GPS signal. Simply standing here and listening as those in authority were focused on getting Rich back safely helped. She only recognized two men from among the many who were involved—Adam Kendall, who’d brought them here in his cruiser, and Ramon Estevez.

  Those two men, flanking a third, approached them now. The man in the middle was introduced to them as Sergeant Clint Parrish of the Texas Department of Public Safety, also known as the DPS. Despite the fact that the FBI was involved in this situation, Parrish, a member of the State Police, was officially in charge of the scene.

  “Are you sure Rich is actually there? How do we know the bastard didn’t just toss his cell phone out the window as they drove past?” Donny’s first question was a question that had been preying on her mind, too.

  That had been the only information they’d been given. Rich had been taken at gunpoint from his office at the Claymore College midmorning. The authorities had pinged his cellphone and had triangulated his location—a location that had been static now for nearly two hours.

  “We’ve had a special drone fly over the location,” Parrish said. “We were able to use thermal imaging, and so we can confirm that there are indeed two human beings inside that house. The officer operating the drone, who’s within sight of where your brother’s being held, was able to manoeuver the drone to look inside the structure, so he has had eyes on him. In addition, his car is pulled around the back of the building, Dr. Kendall, and not visible from the road. And to answer your other concerns, most cell phones can’t get
a signal in this area. Likely Swift’s cell phone is dark, so he’ll assume that Rich’s is, too.” Sergeant Parrish shook his head, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. “Of course your brother, being from Lusty, has a better than average cell phone with better than average capabilities. That’s how we were able to locate him so quickly.”

  As if sensing her curiosity, Donny turned at Iris. “Everyone in the families has a cell phone that’s registered through the security department of Benedict Oil and Minerals. In case of an emergency, they can be tracked. The phones all have built in Wi-Fi. They provide their own hotspots.”

  “That’s good to know.” She understood the reason for that precaution, of course. The families were wealthy, something outsiders didn’t necessarily know.

  Donny slipped his arm around her and then turned his attention back to the men. “Can you at least text him to let him know help is on the way? As I told you, he keeps his phone on vibrate during the school day. He usually doesn’t re-activate the ringer until he’s on the way home.” Donny had run his hand through his hair again. This was a sign she knew well, as both brothers tended to the gesture when they were feeling frustrated.

  “Already done. That’s why we asked you first thing about his phone.” Ramon Estevez had nodded to them the moment they’d gotten out of Adam’s cruiser. When she’d met the Dom, briefly, at the Lyon’s Den a couple weeks before, she never would have guessed he was an undercover federal agent. Looking at him now in that role, it wasn’t very hard imagining him as a Dom.

  “Chris and I happened to be talking with Rich on Skype at the exact moment he was taken. He kept his wits about him and got us a bit of information, including the inference, on the part of his abductor, that the death of Dr. Patrick Broderick hadn’t been an accident.”