by Joanna Wayne
“Mind if I join you for a few minutes?” she asked, sliding into the seat on the opposite side of the table.
“Looks like you already have.”
“I can leave again.”
“Why would you? I figure you have a reason for being here or you wouldn’t have bothered coming over.”
He caught her off guard, had her fumbling in her mind for something to say. “Are you always so direct?”
“Pretty much. It saves a lot of trouble.” He stuck out a hand. “Matt McQuaid,” he said, wrapping his palm around hers and shaking it firmly. “And you must be the famous Ms. Lombardi.”
She grimaced. “So, my reputation precedes me. I’m afraid I’ve made a pest of myself around Dry Creek the last few days.”
“I don’t think pest is the right word, but you’ve gotten a little attention.”
And not all of it good. Heather slid her fingers into her pocket and touched the note that rested there.
“Is this business or pleasure?” The man’s tone bordered on intimidation, but he followed the question with the same easy smile he’d flashed the waitress.
Heather plunged in. “Business.”
“Too bad. I thought I was about to be picked up.”
A blush burned her cheeks. “Not tonight, cowboy. At least, not by me, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“That would have been my second guess.”
His gaze bit into her, a penetrating stare that left her feeling exposed. She took a breath and continued. “I’m trying to find out about a woman named Kathy Warren. I don’t know much about her except that she was last seen in Dry Creek twenty-five years ago. She would have probably been in her early twenties at the time.”
“I would have been a young kid then. What makes you think I might know something?”
“Desperation,” she finally answered. “So far I’ve hit nothing but dead ends in my search, and I noticed that everyone in the café knows you.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you just came right over to my table with your questions?”
“I didn’t think it would hurt to ask you. Apparently I was wrong.” She scooted to the outside edge of the booth.
“No, wait.” He took her hand and tugged, keeping her from standing. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just not good at small talk.”
“So I noticed.”
The waitress interrupted, setting a plate of food in front of Matt. He caught Heather’s gaze. “Would you like something?” he asked.
She took the offer as an invitation to stay. The sandwich she’d eaten was more than enough to fill her, but dessert would buy her more time with the cowboy. His attitude needed adjustment, but, after all, she wasn’t interested in friendship, just facts.
“I’ll have a piece of the cherry pie,” she said, “with a cup of decaf.”
Matt bit into his hamburger as the waitress moved on to the next table. “Tell me about Kathy Warren,” he said, when he’d finished the bite of burger and taken a long drag on his iced tea.
“She was my birth mother. She left me at an orphanage in Dimmit County when I was just a few days old.”
He ate and chewed, taking his time before continuing the conversation. “And you think your mother ended up around here?”
“A woman from the orphanage said she gave Kathy a ride into Dry Creek and let her off at the bus station. I’ve searched and searched, but there’s no record of her after that night.”
“So Kathy Warren rode into the sunset and disappeared, probably just the way she’d planned.” He looked her square in the eye. “She gave you up. It happens. So why go against her wishes to have you out of her life at this late date?”
The chill in the cowboy’s tone caught Heather off guard. Despite his casual demeanor, he’d seemed friendly enough. But now the temperature at the table seemed to have suddenly changed. “You don’t waste a lot of effort on sympathy, do you?”
“I didn’t know you were looking for sympathy. I thought you were chasing around Texas looking for your mother. I can think of better ways to waste your time.”
“Wrong. I’m not looking for my birth mother. She died years ago. I just thought it would be nice to have some closure, to make contact with members of my biological family. But I shouldn’t have bothered you with my problems.” She jumped to her feet.
“What about your pie?”
“You eat it. My treat for wasting your precious time.” She took a few bills from her purse and threw them onto the table. “Have a pleasant night, Mr. McQuaid, if you’re capable of that.”
Matt watched her march out of the café, her head high, her back straighter than a fence post. She was angry with him. The fact didn’t make him feel particularly good. Actually, it ground in his stomach and stole his appetite away.
But if his unsympathetic comments got Heather Lombardi off her mission of recreating the past, he’d probably done her a favor. Fairy-tale endings were the stuff children’s books were made of, not real life.
Still, he had to admit, Billinger might have been right. Heather Lombardi in the moonlight would have made for some interesting memories.
MATT SLOWED HIS TRUCK as a couple of deer stepped from the bushes into the glow of his headlights. Experience had taught him the animals could bolt without warning, dashing into the highway and causing havoc for themselves and the vehicle that hit them. But this time the animals played it smart. They turned and loped back into the gathering darkness.
Matt looked in the direction they’d fled as he passed the spot. No sign of movement, but he caught sight of a car, pulled off into the tangle of brush a few yards from the road. Probably young lovers looking for a bit of privacy.
But maybe not.
Matt cursed the lawman instincts that kept him from driving by without investigating. He slowed and guided the truck into a U-turn. Minutes later, he’d located the spot, or at least close to it. He brought his truck to a stop on the hard dirt shoulder of the road.
The gate the car had probably used was at least fifty yards down the road. Undaunted, Matt grabbed a flashlight, ducked between the rows of barbed wire and tramped through the brush. His beam of light roamed the area in search of the car he’d spotted earlier.
He was about to call out when a loud male voice shattered the quiet. “Somebody’s coming. We gotta get out of here.”
Someone was clearly up to no good. Of all times for him to be without his gun. Matt had just about convinced himself to go back for it when the beam of illumination from his flashlight found the car he’d seen originally. Proximity and a brighter light added dimension and color to the vehicle. Small, white, identical to the one Heather Lombardi had driven away from the café in only a few minutes before he had.
Adrenaline pumped into Matt’s bloodstream, and he took off at a run. An engine roared to life in the distance just as he reached the white car. He looked up, but all he saw was the glow of headlights darting through the brush to the west of him. Cautiously, he turned back to the car, swung the door open and peered inside.
His stomach turned at the sight.
Chapter Two
Heather Lombardi was slumped over the steering wheel. Her jacket was torn and Matt could see blood on one of her hands. He reached inside the car and gripped her upper arm.
“Leave me alone, you ape!” She kicked at him and jerked away from his grasp.
Her voice shook with pain and a fighting spirit that pulled at Matt’s control. He ached to pound his fists into whoever had done this to her. He was far more adept at that than tending the wounded.
“Settle down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, it’s you, cowboy.” She rubbed a jaw that was already swelling into an ugly mass. “How did you get here?”
“Pure luck. The real question is how did you get here?”
“I had help.” She shuddered. “Two nasty men.” She looked around nervously.
“Take it easy. You’re safe for the
time being, and you can fill me in on the details later. Right now, I want to get you out of this car and into my truck.”
“No, I’m not going off with you. I don’t know you any better than I knew those guys. Just call the cops, or the sheriff, or whatever it is you have out here.”
“If that’s the way you want it.” He backed away from the car. It took her about two seconds and one brief glance into the darkness to change her mind.
“Okay, I’ll go with you.” She scooted across the seat, groaning all the way.
“Here, let me help you.” He tucked an arm under hers and tugged.
Her groans dissolved into a string of mild curses, mostly aimed at the cowards who’d attacked her. Matt helped her out of the car, and she leaned against him, her bruised body weak and shaky.
“Where to?” she managed.
“It’s just a few yards to my truck, but I don’t think you’re going to make it on foot.” He swept her into his arms and was amazed at how light she was. He started off through the brush, frightening a jackrabbit and sending it hopping out of his path.
“You don’t have to carry me,” she protested, though with little conviction.
“I know. I could let you crawl, but I don’t have all night.”
“Wait! Go back.”
“Don’t tell me you changed your mind again.”
“No, I need my purse.”
“Do you think it’s still there?”
“Why not? This wasn’t a robbery. It was a scare tactic by some of your friendly townsfolk who don’t like strangers.” She groaned again. “So much for Texas hospitality.”
Matt turned and headed back to the truck. “You must be real special,” he said, possibilities bucking around in his head like a spooked pony. “I don’t remember hearing about any welcoming parties like this around here since...” Memories rushed his mind. He pushed them back. “Not since I was a kid,” he finished.
“Yeah, I’m special, all right.”
Matt propped her against the fender of her car while he dug in the back seat for her purse. Sure enough, it was there, and didn’t appear to have been touched. The plot definitely thickened. He slung the handbag across his shoulder and started to pick Heather up again.
She straightened on her own. “No, thanks, cowboy. My head’s all but quit spinning. I can walk, if you’ll just share an arm for support.”
“Whatever you want.” He led her through the brush, guiding her around a prickly cactus. He had a thousand questions, but he’d let her regain her equilibrium before he bombarded her with them. He opened the door of the truck and gave her a boost as she climbed inside. “The nearest hospital is forty-five miles from here. I’ll call for an ambulance to meet us in town.”
“No, I just need a lift back to my motel room in Dry Creek. Actually, I’m feeling stronger every minute. I think I could drive my own car and not put you to any more trouble.”
She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. “Or maybe not. The stupid jerk with the taco breath slapped me so hard I saw double for a minute or two. And one of him was more than enough.”
Matt turned the key and started the engine. It purred to perfection, and he pulled onto the road. “Can you identify the men?”
“I don’t think so. They wore masks. One of them should have my nail prints imbedded in his stomach, though, and he won’t be walking too straight after where my knee caught him.”
Matt smiled in spite of himself. Miss Lombardi was clearly tough as well as gorgeous. But he was starting to have his doubts about her story of a search for a long, lost mother. Her appeal to men who beat up women and didn’t bother taking their cash suggested that Miss Lombardi might have a few secrets of her own.
“How did you happen to be on this deserted stretch of highway?” he asked, after they’d driven in silence for a few minutes.
“Not by choice. I was kidnapped back in Dry Creek by one of the men. He was waiting in the back seat floor of my car when I left the café.”
“You better start locking your doors.”
“The drivers of half of the cars in the parking lot had left their windows down to combat the heat. I stupidly followed the example of the natives, especially since there were plenty of people around.” She pushed a tangle of hair back from her bruised face. “The man drove me here in my car and then another goon jumped out of the bushes. I thought it was my car they wanted. My second major mistake of the night.”
“The second man must have been driving the vehicle they got away in. I heard it start up just before I got to you, but I only caught a quick glimpse. I don’t suppose you got a look at it.”
“I didn’t even hear the engine. My ears were ringing from being slapped around.”
Matt beat an irritated fist against the steering wheel. “A simple carjacking turned ugly. Only we don’t have car-jackings in Dry Creek.” He was thinking out loud, but Heather jumped on his statement.
“Do you think I’m lying about this?”
“No. I’m just saying there’s a lot more to this than is floating on the surface of the water barrel.”
“Yeah, like someone in your town doesn’t like visitors.”
He drove in silence for the next few minutes, his mind buzzing and coming up with nothing. Finally, he turned off at a dirt road. Grinding to a stop, he swung open his truck door so he could get out and unlatch the gate.
Heather opened her eyes. “Where in the hell are we now?”
“My place.”
“Now, wait a minute. I’m thankful for the rescue, but not so thankful I’m planning on giving up any of my virtue.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to settle for entertainment from someone in the shape you’re in. But since you’re not willing to go to the hospital, you’ll have to withstand my first aid. A little liniment and some peroxide for that nasty cut over your eye.”
Heather feathered the cut with her fingers. With the rest of her body aching like crazy, she hadn’t noticed the bloody cut. “You’re not planning on using cow liniment, are you?”
“No, that stuff’s too expensive to waste on women.”
“Very funny.”
Matt took care of the gate duties, and they headed down the road toward the small cabin that had come with the land. “What do you do when you’re not searching for long-lost relatives?” he asked.
“I work in the public relations department for a television station.”
“So who relates to the public while you roam around Texas?”
“Probably someone vying for my job. I’m on vacation.”
She turned to face him, this time without groaning, but her face was more than slightly misshapen, and her right eye was practically swollen shut.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?” he asked, grimacing at the sight. “You look like a rodeo clown who didn’t escape the bull.”
“Thank you. And, yes, I’m sure. Ice and aspirin will be fine. They just slapped me around a little.” She squirmed and peeked under a stack of papers that occupied the seat space between them.
“Looking for something?”
“A phone. I’d like to report this incident to the authorities.”
“You’ve already done that.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You’re talking to the law, not a local authority, but the law all the same. I’m with the Texas Rangers. My office is in San Antonio.”
“Oh, jeeez. Rescued by a Texas Ranger. They’ll love this story back at home.” She stretched her neck, rubbing the back of it with agitated strokes. “You’re a long way from the office.”
“It’s a small world. I’m on vacation, too.”
“I don’t know about you, but this wasn’t part of my itinerary.” She shifted and moaned again. “I’ll rest at your place for a few minutes, but then we have to go back for my car. It’s a rental. The insurance company would frown on my leaving it parked it the middle of nowhere overnight.”
“It won’
t be. I plan to have it picked up by the sheriff and dusted and checked for prints, and I want the crime scene checked for any available evidence.”
“Didn’t I mention that my attackers wore gloves?”
“No. What kind of gloves?”
“Leather. Not the dressy kind, the kind you might work in. They didn’t look new. What do you expect to find, other than prints?”
“I’ll take what we can get. A piece of clothing would be nice or some unusual tire prints from the other car. That, with any information you can give us, might help identify at least one of the perps.”
“I’ll help all I can. I want these men caught and prosecuted, although I’m sure they meant for me to be too afraid to report the attack. They said as much.”
“I’m glad you’re not. The sheriff and I will both want to hear all the details and the truth about why you’re really in Dry Creek. Then maybe we can figure out why someone around here, or a couple of someones, wants to get rid of you.”
Heather tracked a spot over her left temple where another pain was throbbing to life. “Do you want the story about how I’m a Mafia princess on the run or the one where I’m wanted for spying in twelve countries?”
“I wan’t the truth.”
“You’ve already heard it. Sorry, Matt McQuaid, Texas Ranger, but I’m just a woman tracing her roots. But I’d still like to take you up on that liniment and the strongest pain reliever you’ve got. I have a feeling things are going to get worse before they get better.”
“Funny. I have that same feeling.”
Matt pulled the truck to a stop in the carport and climbed out. He hadn’t been at the ranch house in over a month. He couldn’t remember how he’d left it, though he doubted it was ready for company. But it couldn’t be any worse than the one dilapidated motel in Dry Creek, and besides, as long as Heather was with him, she wouldn’t have to worry about a repeat visit from her wrecking crew.
The thought of any man dirty enough to use a woman for a punching bag ground in his gut. He expected her to be all right except for some nasty bruises and sore muscles, but if he hadn’t arrived the story might have been tragically different. What they’d told her about not wanting to kill her wouldn’t have mattered. He’d seen it happen too many times before. Attacks, fueled by anger and power, that escalated into murder.
