by B. J Daniels
He stopped and swung the pickup around, planning to chase her down and find out what was going on. His cell phone rang. He grabbed it and flipped it open without even bothering to see who was calling he’d been so sure it was Georgia.
“I just heard back from that patrolman in Tennessee,” his brother Lantry said when Dalton answered. “I hope you’re sitting down. I got a detailed description of Taylor K. Ambrose from the Tennessee patrolman. Taylor K. Ambrose is actually Taylor Karen Ambrose. Ambrose is a woman! Tall, blond and beautiful. But wait until you hear this.”
Dalton was already swinging the pickup around and heading down the road after Georgia’s pickup.
“You wondered what Ambrose’s connection was to Nicci?” Lantry was saying. “Well, the patrolman said one of the FBI agents told him that Ambrose is none other than the woman Nicci’s father was having the affair with—that’s right, the young girl caught in the scandal because she was in the car with Nicholas Angeles the night he died.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dalton took off after the pickup. It finally made sense. Nicci and Ambrose. Not another man. A woman. The woman who’d taken Nicci’s father away from her and somehow the two women had ended up in cahoots? He tried to get his head around that, fighting the fear that came with it.
“Ambrose has Georgia,” he said into the phone.
“What?”
“I was on my way into Georgia’s for dinner and I saw her pickup headed south. There was a woman with long blond hair in the cab with her.”
Lantry swore. “What are you going to do?”
“They’re headed south toward Old Town Whitehorse,” he said. “Ambrose must be taking her to Nicci. I’m going after her.”
Dalton expected his brother to try to talk him into calling the sheriff and was surprised when Lantry said, “Don’t call the sheriff. For Nicci to come back here with Ambrose…She has nothing to lose.”
He’d been thinking the same thing. Nicci had every law enforcement officer in the country after her, including the FBI. She wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.
“She isn’t after Georgia,” Lantry said. “She wants you.”
Dalton was counting on it. He slowed, keeping enough distance between him and the pickup. With luck, Ambrose wouldn’t know his truck. That was why Georgia hadn’t looked in his direction. The woman was smart and coolheaded. She would be fine. He had to believe that.
The storm moved in. Thunderheads blew across the prairie extinguishing the last of daylight. Dalton saw Georgia turn on her headlights as the first hard drops of rain pinged off his windshield.
He let a rancher in a two-ton truck pass, falling back to put plenty of distance between him and Georgia’s pickup. He had no idea what Ambrose would do if she spotted him following them.
Hell, he had no idea what had brought Nicci back to Whitehorse except for a nagging suspicion that had his heart racing.
He could still get glimpses of Georgia’s pickup from behind the big ranch truck. Where was Ambrose taking her?
He thought of Lover’s Leap, where he’d met Nicci that day. Surely she wasn’t going back there. Not on a day like today.
With relief, he watched Georgia turn left toward Old Town Whitehorse instead of right onto the road to the river.
He drove on past the turnoff, following the farm truck. Over the next rise, he stopped and turned around as he considered what was down the road Georgia had taken.
Ranches and farmhouses out here near the Missouri Breaks were few and far between. He knew the road eventually led to Old Town Whitehorse, but he doubted that was where Georgia was headed. She must be holed up in one of the farmhouses along the way. An abandoned one?
He drove back up the road and turned to follow as a burst of lightning illuminated the countryside. Even though the rain was coming down harder now, he could still see a plume of dust Georgia had kicked up in her pickup.
The sky darkened again. Dalton turned off his headlights as he drove down the narrow dirt road, keeping Georgia’s taillights in view.
This country was wide and open, rolling hills and vast dark sky. He could see her taillights for miles. But his fear was that she would turn off the road and he might lose her.
His fear was so intense he had trouble catching a breath. If Ambrose had Georgia, where was Nicci?
The pickup’s brake lights glowed brighter. Georgia was pulling into the yard of a huge old farmhouse.
He kept going, driving on past, but noting the name on the mailbox: Palmer.
GEORGIA GLANCED in her rearview mirror as Dalton’s pickup sped past.
“Is there a problem?” Ambrose asked, glancing over her shoulder at the road behind them.
The pickup kept going, disappearing over a small rise.
“Other than you holding a gun on me?” Georgia asked.
The woman smiled. She reminded Georgia a little of Nicci, a rich girl who’d always had it all.
Georgia looked out through the now pouring rain at the large old farmhouse. Only one lone light flickered from behind the curtains. She felt her heart ache at the thought of Agnes in there with Nicci.
Rain pounded the roof of the pickup and careened off the hood. Lightning flickered all around them, followed almost instantly by nerve-racking booms of thunder.
Georgia was jumpy enough with Ambrose holding a gun on her—and knowing Dalton was somewhere nearby. That had definitely been his truck she’d passed earlier. At the time she’d hoped he’d seen her. He had because he’d just driven past.
But did he know about Ambrose? That she was tall and blond and just as deadly as he’d feared? Georgia had made a point of not checking her rearview mirror before she turned into Agnes’s yard, but seeing him drive past just now left her both relieved and afraid. She wasn’t entirely alone. But Dalton, she feared, would be in as much danger as she was.
What would he do now?
For that matter, what was she going to do?
THE WIND BLEW IN the rain, soaking the flapping curtains. Agnes rushed to the windows to close them, feeling the sting of the drops. She was already chilled just knowing that Nicci was somewhere in the house.
Why hadn’t she shown herself?
Agnes’s flesh crawled as she shut and locked the last window. The house felt unusually cold and empty. It had always been too large for Agnes and her husband. They’d planned to fill it with children. When that hadn’t happened, they’d closed off some of the extra rooms, just as they’d closed off that part of their hearts with regret.
As Agnes started to turn away from the window, a bolt of lightning lit the yard and she saw through the pouring rain the pickup sitting out front.
Her heart dropped at the sight of Georgia’s truck. Earlier Georgia had called her to thank her again for the garden vegetables and told her about the dinner she had planned with Dalton Corbett.
“It sounds as if you’ll have a wonderful dinner,” Agnes had said, giving Georgia her blessing.
After she’d hung up, she’d felt a sense of knowing again. Something horrible had happened at sea on Nicci’s honeymoon with Dalton Corbett. Something that Agnes feared had sealed the two of them together in some awful bond that couldn’t be broken until death parted them.
She shivered now, chilled at the thought of what would happen in the next few hours. A deadly cold had settled into the house and into her heart.
Another bolt of lightning daggered down in the dark sky behind the curtain, momentarily blinding her. Thunder boomed and the light Agnes had turned on, blinked off. The power had gone off as it often did out here during storms.
The house went dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t see the woman who’d come up behind her. Nicci’s hideous smiling face was reflected in the windowpane streaked with rain.
“LOOKS LIKE it’s not letting up,” Ambrose said over the pouring rain outside of the cab pickup. “You don’t mind getting a little wet, do you?” The question was obviously rhetorical as Ambrose reached across and opened Georg
ia’s door. “Don’t forget. You do anything stupid and Agnes pays the price.”
Georgia wasn’t likely to forget. She stepped out, raindrops pelting her with huge icy droplets, as she ran toward the porch.
The front door blew open on a gust of wind. Georgia stumbled into the dark living room, Ambrose behind her still holding the gun.
“Agnes?” Georgia called, fearing that Nicci had already done something to the sweet elderly lady.
“In here,” called Agnes from the back of the house. She sounded fine. Maybe Nicci hadn’t—
A light blinked on from the kitchen down the hall and Georgia caught her breath at the sight of Nicci standing silhouetted against it.
She stood, the gun at her side, smiling. “Glad to see you could make it,” she said, sounding as if they’d all come out for dinner.
Ambrose pushed Georgia forward, forcing her to walk down the long hallway toward the glow of the lamp and the two women waiting for her.
“The lights went off, but Agnes here is so resourceful, she had a kerosene lantern,” Nicci said. “She is just full of surprises.”
Ambrose shoved Georgia into one of the kitchen chairs and tossed the pale yellow sweater Nicci had bought her on the table.
“You don’t seem all that happy to see me again,” Nicci commented before leaning down to give Georgia a quick hug. “I still think of you as a friend despite everything.”
She was insane. Georgia wanted to believe that over the alternative—that Nicci was evil on earth.
“What’s going on, Nicci?” Georgia asked, surprised she sounded so calm. One look at Agnes and her fear had leaped even higher. She and Agnes both knew why Nicci had come back.
“I just had to tie up some loose ends and I’ve never seen you in that sweater. Put it on.”
“Nicci—”
“Now!”
DALTON’S HEART THUNDERED in his chest as he sprinted over the rise through the rain and saw the shapes of two people melt into the dark shadows of the massive old farmhouse.
He’d caught the glint of a gun in the dim light. Ambrose was armed. That meant Nicci had to be packing as well. She and her friend were waiting for him. They had Georgia and Agnes. That was all he could think about.
He sprinted toward the farmhouse through the tall green grass. He’d parked in the ditch up the road from the Palmer farmhouse and ran back. He had no weapon, no real plan. All he knew was that somehow he had to save Georgia. He didn’t care what happened to him, but he couldn’t let Nicci hurt her.
A bolt of lightning illuminated him for an instant before the sky went black again. He cut across a field heading for what looked like a garden, the cornstalks high.
He’d just reached the garden when his cell phone vibrated. He stopped to hunker down in the field of corn and check the caller. Nicci. Just as he’d known it would be.
The phone vibrated again. He tried to catch his breath, needing to be calm and not give himself away. It vibrated a third time. He saw the garden shed off to his right and ran to it, stepping inside before he said, “What do you want?” into the phone.
“I have your lover.” Her voice was filled with jubilance.
Dalton forced a laugh. “I don’t have a lover.”
“Oh? I’m surprised, Dalton. I thought you and Georgia would have consummated your relationship by now. You and I were lovers within hours after we met.”
“I’m more cautious now.”
“Is that it? Or is it that you think Georgia is special? The kind of woman a man takes home to meet his family?”
The truth in her words made his heart pound a little harder. If Nicci had already figured that out—
“Surely you hadn’t planned on waiting until you were married?” She laughed. “I fear you’re going to miss out.”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, realizing he actually wanted to know, although he suspected it wasn’t even clear in that sick warped mind of hers.
“Do you know I’ve always regretted that night on the boat?” Nicci asked. “I’ve thought about it the last nine years and I think we could have made it.”
“You kind of crumbed the deal when you tried to kill me, Nicci.”
“It wasn’t my idea. It was Ambrose—” She broke off. “Too late now, huh. Still I wanted you to know. I loved you.” He heard her take a deep breath and let it out. It sounded as if there were tears in voice as she said, “Anyway, I have Georgia.”
“She doesn’t have anything to do with this, Nicci,” he said as calmly as he could manage.
“I think you should come out to Agnes Palmer’s place. Think you can find it quickly because I’m really tiring of all this, Dalton. You have forced me to do things that I didn’t want to do.”
“Nicci, don’t—”
But she’d already hung up.
Dalton broke from the cornfield and sprinted toward the back of the house. A sole light flickered from one of the windows. He started up the back steps.
A step creaked under his weight, then another. He moved a little faster, telling himself they wouldn’t kill him outright. Nicci was like a cat with a mouse. She would have to bat him around for a while. Tease him. Torment him a while longer before she finally put him out of his misery.
His worry was that she planned to use Georgia to do it.
He reached the back door and grasped the knob.
GEORGIA GLANCED AT AGNES. The elderly woman had been sitting at the table so quietly that Georgia feared Nicci had done something to her before she and Ambrose had arrived.
Agnes’s gaze met hers. “What is our next project going to be for knitting class?”
Georgia blinked. Agnes wanted to talk knitting at a time like this? Maybe Nicci had been telling the truth about Agnes starting to lose her mind. “I…I don’t know.”
“I’m thinking we should make a baby bunting,” she said thoughtfully. “All these babies everyone is having.”
Nicci shot Agnes a look, then cut her eyes to Georgia as if to say, “Told you so.” She turned her back on Agnes, her gun back at her side. Earlier when she’d been on the phone with Dalton, she’d pocketed the gun and had Ambrose keep both Georgia and Agnes in her sights.
Georgia had listened to Nicci’s side of the conversation, knowing it was Dalton on the other end of the line.
She tried not to watch the back door or listen too intently for him, for fear Nicci would notice.
But her heart was pounding with anticipation and fear. Ambrose had put her gun in her pocket, but Nicci still had hers and Georgia didn’t doubt for a moment that she would use it if Dalton came bursting in.
“I need a glass of water,” Agnes said, getting to her feet.
“Sit down!” Nicci ordered.
“I’m thirsty. I always drink eight big glasses of water a day. If I don’t—”
“Fine,” Nicci snapped. “Ambrose get her some water to shut her up.”
“Not that glass,” Agnes said. “That big tall thin one. I can’t lift those heavy ones anymore.”
Nicci motioned with a scowl for Ambrose to get Agnes the other glass. “Now shut up,” she snapped when Ambrose put the glass in front of her and Agnes took a sip.
Nicci seemed subdued, almost sad, as they waited.
Georgia feared the reason why. She couldn’t get it out of her head that this is where it would end for all of them. Nicci must just be waiting for Dalton to get here.
“You don’t mind if I knit, do you?” Agnes asked.
“Get the old crone her knitting,” Nicci ordered Ambrose.
“It’s in the living room where I dropped it,” Agnes said, sounding bored with all this.
Ambrose disappeared only to return a few moments later with the baby afghan Agnes had been working on.
Agnes pulled out the two needles and ball of yarn, then studied the afghan for a moment. “I’m glad you talked me into these colors, Georgia.”
“Oh, shut up, you stupid old woman,” Nicci snapped.
In the flicke
ring light of the kerosene lantern, Agnes began to knit as if oblivious to what was taking place in her kitchen.
DALTON KNEW there was no way he could sneak into the house. Nicci was waiting for him. She would have Georgia and Agnes guarded. If he tried to pull something heroic, he could get both of them shot. He had to assume that both Nicci and Ambrose were armed while he had no weapon.
Nicci wanted him. He could only hope for a chance to save Georgia and Agnes, even if it meant taking a bullet himself.
He turned the doorknob, not surprised to find the door wasn’t locked.
Nicci turned in surprise, the gun in her hand coming up so the barrel was aimed at his chest. “That was quick.”
“This is between you and me,” Dalton said, raising his hands as he stepped in. He took a quick glance toward Georgia and Agnes. They sat at the round oak kitchen table. Agnes was knitting and didn’t seem to hear him come in. Georgia met his gaze with one of fear for him as Ambrose pulled her gun as well.
“Let Agnes and Georgia go,” he said quietly.
“Close the door,” Nicci ordered.
He did as he was told.
“And you’re wrong. It was once between you and me. Back when I thought you were a man to be trusted. I told you my secret and what did you do?”
“You don’t think you were asking a lot, Nicci, given the secret you wanted me to keep?”
She actually looked as if she might cry, but the gun in her hand never wavered. “It wasn’t my only secret, so if you couldn’t accept that one how could you…”
He knew what was coming, had known the moment Lantry told him the name of Nicci’s father’s lover. Taylor K. Ambrose.
“Accept that Ambrose and I killed my father as well?” Nicci asked simply, but her voice broke at the end. “I loved him so much.”
“So you kill everything you love?” He saw that now, the poor little rich girl, greedy in her need and easily disappointed in those she loved most.
Nicci glanced back at Ambrose, her expression darkening. “Not everyone.” Her gaze came back to him. “I didn’t kill you.”
