Blake threw up a hand and turned around. “A little late with your concern, but yeah, go ahead. I think you deserve to see what’s inside, both of you.”
Danger clasped Karen’s hand. “Wait for me in the Jeep.”
“I don’t think Blake likes me,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice. “He’s lying. I want to see for myself.”
“Blake doesn’t tell lies.”
“Everyone tells lies, darling.” She patted his face. “Let’s take a quick look and get out of here.”
Danger frowned. “The crime scene investigators are still in there. They won’t let us in.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed as if she really wanted to see the grizzly scene.
Danger gave her a curious look. Huh. This was a side of Karen he hadn’t seen before. Only a few hours earlier, he and Lacey had stood on this front porch. She’d given him his copy of the divorce papers. He’d never forget the look on her face when he told her he was meeting Karen, and they were getting married that afternoon. She hadn’t said a word, but she’d looked at him as if he’d broken a knife off in her heart.
He’d spent the last two hours making love to his new wife when his son and ex-wife had needed him. His stomach clenched. He knew his life with Lacey was over, but hell, what a way to begin a new marriage.
Karen had a way of sweeping him into passion until all he thought about was getting her into bed. She’d done that to him from the moment he laid eyes on her in the Blue Goose Diner over a year ago.
Lacey had been away on a shoot in some country he’d never heard of, and cell phone service was non-existent. Maybe it would have made a difference if he could have heard his wife’s voice in that four months she was away.
He only knew he was fed up with her being gone all the time, angry over the fact that she left him and Joseph and took off with men to spend weeks alone in their company.
His jealousy and doubts of Lacey’s fidelity began to eat at him. Then one of the men confirmed he’d slept with Lacey while they were in Alaska. Danger hadn’t doubted Jared’s word. The man had known intimate details about Lacey’s body only a lover could know.
He’d gone a little crazy then. When Karen invited him to her house for a drink, he accepted, realizing full well she’d invited him for a lot more than a drink. The hours he spent making love to her that first night left him shaken. He’d never imagined he could be unfaithful to Lacey.
But Karen stirred a dark hunger in him—the means for revenge against Lacey. He returned to Karen’s house the next night, and the next, and every night after that, until Lacey returned home.
By then, he was deeply involved with Karen, but meeting her while Lacey was at home was difficult. He found ways, made excuses to his wife for working late. The hardest part had been not touching his wife. He resented the fact he still wanted her and spent more and more time away from home and more hours in Karen’s bed. It hadn’t helped.
He’d decided the best way to cure any leftover feelings for Lacey was to get her involved with another man, get her out of his life, permanently.
His plan had worked a little too well.
Chapter Three
Don’t say it’s a fine morning or I’ll shoot ya.
~John Wayne
McClintock
Rimrock, Montana
Blackstone Ranch
February 6, Friday
7:30 p.m.
When ex-Special Agent Rafe McCord entered the ranch house, he hesitated at the kitchen doorway and swallowed hard. “Jesus.” He’d been warned at the front door by a deputy, but Rafe didn’t think he’d ever seen a more macabre sight, and he’d seen plenty of murder scenes. He glanced at Danger, a little wary. He hadn’t seen him since Christmas, not since he’d—
“Rafe,” Danger said in an unsteady voice. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Are you? I hear you got married today. Congratulations.”
Danger nodded. “Yes. This is Karen. Karen, this is Sheriff Rafe McCord from Triangle, Texas…my…friend.”
Karen gave him a cool smile, one to match his own. Danger might have fallen out of love with Lacey and fallen into this woman’s clutches, but it was plain to see the sheriff of Rimrock was a broken man.
“They won’t let me in there…not yet.”
Rafe nodded his understanding. The CSI team couldn’t have strange fibers showing up. It’d blow the entire stack of evidence they were collecting. He watched the team a few minutes, three women and a man. Dressed in white, wearing gloves, shoe covers and nets over their hair, they snapped pictures, collected fibers, hairs, semen samples, blood samples, and gathered anything and everything to seal the case once it went to court. They were professionals and damn good, but Rafe understood Danger’s desire to do his own investigation.
Danger waited at the entrance to the kitchen, a solitary figure. From where he stood, Rafe was certain the man saw way too much, more than anyone should see who’d been emotionally involved with the victim. Karen clung to him. She didn’t look like a happy bride.
All Danger’s attention was focused on the blood on the floor.
Rafe worked his way closer to him. “I’m sorry to hear about Joseph and Anna Leigh.”
Danger looked up. Bleak shadows filled the sheriff’s gray eyes. “I wish you’d gotten here sooner.”
Rafe nodded. There was no life, no spark in the silver depths of Danger’s eyes. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“He took her,” Danger whispered. “He took my wife. I don’t know how to find her, where to start looking. I told her I never wanted to see her again. I think I might never get to.”
“We’ll find her.”
Rafe glanced at Karen, saw her lips tighten, and wondered if Danger realized he’d called Lacey his wife. From the tight look on the woman’s face beside him, she did, and she damn sure wasn’t pleased about it.
Lord, what a mess. He closed his eyes for a brief second. This wasn’t a good place for Danger to be right now. The man had to know what he was looking at, the evidence on the floor. Blood. Semen. And the writing and symbols on the walls, all written with Lacey’s blood.
“She’s pregnant, Rafe. Two months.”
Rafe swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Danger shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. I haven’t touched Lacey in months. It’s not my baby.”
Rafe froze. “Christ.” He rubbed the side of his forehead. “Oh, Jesus.”
“I told her at Christmas I wanted a divorce. I told her I wanted her out of my life, permanently. She gave me my freedom today, but I don’t feel free.”
Rafe drew a shaky breath, slowly exhaled. Pain slashed his heart as if he’d been cut by a knife. “Maybe we should go outside, get some fresh air while the scene is being worked.”
“No. I’m afraid they’ll miss something. A clue. A sign of where he might have taken her. I owe her that much. I know she’s probably dead. Smitt Davis is a careful bastard. He’d not leave her alive. Jesus, there’s so much blood. Even if she’s alive, she might not be for long if she lost the baby.”
“Don’t say that! She’s alive. The baby is alive! We’ll find her.”
Danger nodded. “I want my wife back. I know I can’t have her back, but if she’s dead, I want her body brought home. I want to bury her where she belongs, on Blackstone land. I don’t want her left somewhere he chose. She’s my wife.”
Rafe noted the way Karen glared at Danger, but the man paid little heed to her obvious rage. He shrugged it off. She was none of his concern, but there was something about the woman that looked downright dangerous, and he couldn’t help wondering if Danger had a clue.
“I’m your wife, Danger,” she said, sounding bitter. “Lacey’s in the past, exactly where she belongs.”
Rafe squelched his anger. They were all tense and upset. He was probably imagining things. Now was not the time to shout accusations at anyone. He ignored her offensive words the same way Danger did. “I understand.” Rafe hesitated, war
y of asking questions, but he had to know what had happened if he was going to help. “How’s your sister? I heard she’s the one who made the nine-one-one call?”
For a moment, Danger appeared utterly lost. His mouth worked, as if he searched for the right words, but couldn’t quite find them. He cleared his throat, his gray eyes bleak when he met Rafe’s gaze head-on. “Yes, she barely had the strength to make the call.” He shook his head. “I...she...uh...she died in flight to Havre.” Tears swam in his eyes. “Blake’s on his way there now. I have to go, too. My son…Joseph’s barely hanging on. I need to be there with him, and I need to be here.”
Rafe swore beneath his breath. “I’m here. Go to the hospital. You know for sure your son is still alive. He’s the one who needs you the most right now.”
Danger nodded, glanced around at the scene and swallowed hard. “I lost my wife six months ago. I pushed her away, pushed her into doing what she did.”
“No. You didn’t push her away. You gave her away. I watched you give her away.”
“I want my wife back in my arms.”
Karen gasped.
“Jesus, Danger!” Rafe shook his head. “You know it’s too late for that.”
“No matter what Smitt did to her, if she’s alive, I want her back where she belongs. You know what I’m saying?”
Rafe glanced at Karen and back at Danger. He wondered if the man even realized what he was saying. He nodded. “I understand all of it, but what did Lacey want?”
Danger gave a choked laugh. “The father of her baby.”
Chapter Four
Love is like a spider web, the harder you struggle, the more tangled up you become and the harder it is to escape.
~Unknown
Rimrock, Montana
Blackstone Ranch
February 6, Friday
7:45 p.m.
Sheriff Rafe McCord of Triangle, Texas stood in the home of Sheriff Danger Blackstone, his best friend, and wished he was anywhere but here. At last, the CSI team had cleared the house and let him in the kitchen. So much traffic. So much tramping about the crime scene. He doubted there was much left in the line of evidence he could actually sort through, but for Lacey’s sake, he’d give it a shot.
At least Danger had taken Karen and left for the hospital to be with Joseph.
He figured it was just as well Lacey wasn’t here to meet the woman who’d stolen her husband. God, he didn’t understand how Danger got himself involved with the scheming bitch.
Rafe hadn’t known for certain the Rimrock lawman was having an affair, but the way things had fallen in December, he’d strongly suspected it. He hadn’t known Lacey had sought a divorce either, or that she was pregnant.
Jesus, this entire thing was a frigging nightmare, and one little step from a bigger catastrophe. He needed a few minutes to clear his head. There was so much to take in he couldn’t concentrate on the crime scene. All he saw in his head was Lacey—Lacey in front of the fireplace popping corn. Lacey crying. Her sorrow at the things Danger did and said. Why the hell couldn’t he get her off his mind?
In his callused hands, he held a Colt .45 and the strong desire to use it on one man. At the moment, it was the only comfort he had. He studied the gun and knew if he had to, he’d put a bullet between Smitt Davis’s eyes, but damn it, he also knew if it came right down to it, he’d do it legally. Legal was a whole lot more than the rat bastard serial killer deserved.
Rafe stared at the antique firearm and realized he must be in a bit of shock over all the events he’d walked head-on into tonight. Danger’s new marriage. Lacey divorced. Lacey pregnant. The baby wasn’t Danger’s, so where did that leave everything standing?
Smitt’s attack on Lacey, Joseph, and Anna Leigh was a nightmare, but Danger calling Lacey his wife while his new bride stood beside him was unbelievable. Rafe had met Karen a time or two when he’d came to visit the Blackstone’s and Danger and he’d go to town for coffee. He’d never liked her. She’d always been too flirty for his tastes.
He never would have guessed she was the woman Danger was seeing. To say Karen was a little upset with her new husband would be putting it mildly. Danger might not have witnessed her displeasure, but he damn sure had, and the woman hated Lacey.
It was a lot to take in, or he wouldn’t be standing here eyeing something as mundane as the gun in his hand.
However, it was as much a part of his personal history as history itself. It let his mind escape from what was all around him—Lacey’s blood—her last moments inside the ranch house.
Think about something else! Think about the gun.
The Colt had been passed down through generations of Texas Rangers, of McCord males, to his grandpa, and finally to him. Men, who’d, upheld the law, not taken it in their own hands.
He couldn’t dishonor those men by cold-bloodedly murdering a man who deserved killing in the worst way. It would make him no better than the animal he was going to hunt down, but in his heart, Rafe knew the way he’d dealt with Lacey Blackstone had stained a part of him, put a blot on his honor.
Rafe had always been a straight-shooter, honest to a fault, and upfront with the women in his life—an honorable man, except for—
No, that was personal, not professional.
He returned the gun to the specially made holster he’d designed for it and wore inside his jacket. The pistol had seen him through many ordeals. It was an old and necessary friend. His love for law and justice started at an early age. A former Texas Ranger, he still used the Colt .45.
Even though he’d gone on to become a federal agent and was issued a Glock, he trusted his old friend more. When it came to dealing with bastards like Smitt Davis, he liked to believe he was merciless. Still, he’d always followed the letter of the law.
And that was the problem. This time was different. This time he was torn between what was right and what he wanted to do, because this time, there was a woman involved—and he owed her.
Not knowing if Lacey Blackstone was dead or alive was ripping out his guts one pearly strand at a time. Everyone assumed she was dead, even her ex-husband. Rafe figured the odds of her still being alive were pretty slim. Smitt Davis didn’t leave survivors. His profile listed him as a ruthless killer known to take his victims’ bodies away from the original crime scene and dump them somewhere else.
But he wouldn’t give up or stop searching for Lacey until he found her body, until he was proven wrong and she was still alive. Oh, God. He couldn’t bear the thought of what she must have suffered at the hands of a butcher like Davis.
“Shit!” He couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t think about what Smitt had done to her. If he did, he’d go mad. Hell, he couldn’t think about what he’d done to her.
Shoving a small spiral notebook and gold-capped ink pen in the pocket of his plain white shirt, he leaned back against the kitchen counter and rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip.
An honorable man? Nothing he’d done concerning Lacey struck him as honorable. He’d known it then, and still he’d—Rafe broke off his thoughts. “Jesus, what the hell am I doing here?”
He had to be completely insane coming back to Danger’s home, insane, or a total glutton for punishment. And why did Danger welcome him, when he had to suspect—
Fuck! Suspect hell! The man set his own wife up for a fall. What man did that to the woman he loved? Supposedly loved? And why? That was the weird thing. Why?
Rafe rubbed a spot between his eyes and tried to block out the ache his memories brought on. The last time he’d stood in this kitchen, in this exact spot, he’d made an absolute fool of himself. He winced. Hell, he didn’t even want to think about the things he’d said to Lacey, words he never should have voiced.
At the time, he’d only known an opportunity presented itself, and he grabbed it. No doubt he’d do it again, because nothing about the way he’d felt then had changed now. If anything, his emotions were deeper involved than ever.
Just because he’d left Lacey Bla
ckstone standing at the airport and he hadn’t known if she’d welcome him back, didn’t change anything that happened or make the fact he loved her go away.
“It’s never going away.” He knew it, and if he knew it, so had Lacey.
What happened couldn’t be fixed. He hadn’t realized until much, much later it was what broke her emotionally—what scared her. Why she’d cried like her heart was shattered in a million pieces after the first time he made love to her. She’d known immediately nothing could be mended, and still she’d stayed with Danger. She’d tried to fix it.
To him, it seemed there were no choices, but he hadn’t allowed for the fact she had a son to consider. Had he had the same realizations Lacey had, instead of walking away, certain she’d go with him, he’d have pressed his advantage, hammered away at her defenses, persisted in his seduction, and he’d have won—then, when he left the Blackstone Ranch that last morning, he would have taken her with him. Smitt Davis would never have had the opportunity to do the things he did to her.
Too late! Rafe scrubbed a hand across his furrowed brow and stared at the bloody scrawling on the kitchen wall. They were all so damn late in their care of her. The bastard used Lacey’s blood to finger-paint symbols on the walls.
Swallowing hard, Rafe fought to gain control of the anguish running rampant inside him. If she was still alive, then he wouldn’t do Lacey any good if he couldn’t keep a clear head.
And he had to find her.
He was as anxious about her as Danger. The difference—Danger was the only man with the right to be concerned. Rafe frowned. No. That wasn’t true any longer. Rafe figured the sheriff cast away any privileges he’d had when he’d walked away and left Lacey to the wolves. It didn’t matter that he was the wolf waiting to devour her. What mattered now was finding Lacey. And by the grace of God, finding her alive!
No matter how difficult it was, Rafe knew he had to keep his feelings under wraps. Reigning in his emotions had never been easy, especially when anger was involved. He was plenty pissed at Danger.
Too Close To The Fire/Too Hot To Handle (Montana Men 3) Page 14
