Irish Thoroughbred

by Nora Roberts

  Lieutenant Hallinger was nearly sixty, and after thirty-seven years on the force he figured he'd seen it all and heard twice as much. He'd certainly experienced more than his share of frustrated and angry spouses. It seemed to him that the man in front of him was both.

  "Mr. Logan, we have an APB out on your wife right now, and several officers are asking questions at the track." Though he envied Burke his cigar, he didn't mention it. "It would help clear things up, and give us a better chance of locating your wife, if you'd fill me in."

  "I've already told you Erin hasn't come back to the hotel. No one's seen her since this morning, and her wedding ring was found at the stables at Churchill Downs."

  "Some people are careless with jewelry, Mr. Logan."

  Some people. What the hell was this business about some people? They were talking about Erin, his Erin. Where the hell was she? He looked back at Hallinger again and spoke precisely. "Not Erin. And not with her wedding ring."

  "Um-hmm." He made a notation in his book. "Mr. Logan, occasionally this sort of thing comes down to a simple misunderstanding." He could have written a book, Hallinger thought. Yeah, he could've written a book on misunderstandings alone. "Did you and your wife quarrel this morning?"

  "No."

  "It's possible she rented a car and decided to do a little sight-seeing."

  "That's ridiculous." He glanced up as Travis handed him a cup of coffee. Burke accepted it but set it aside. "If Erin had wanted to go for a drive, she would have taken the car we've already rented. She would have told me she was leaving and she would have been back two hours ago. We had plans for this evening."

  He'd had plans himself, which had included a nice quiet evening with his own wife. And a footbath. Hallinger wriggled his aching toes inside his shoes. "Derby week can be chaotic. It might have slipped her mind."

  "Erin's the most responsible person I know. If she's not here, it's because she can't get here." He thought again of the hateful and terrifying calls he'd already made to the hospitals. "Because someone's keeping her from getting here."

  "Mr. Logan, kidnapping usually prompts a ransom call. You're a wealthy man, yet you tell me you haven't been contacted."

  "No, I haven't been contacted." But he still broke out in a sweat every time the phone rang. "Look, Lieutenant, I've told you everything I know. And I'm damn sick of going over the same ground when you should be out doing your job. I'd go out and look myself, but I feel it's more important for me to stay here and-" Wait. Endlessly.

  Hallinger glanced over his notes. He was a thin man with small, aching feet and a quiet voice. He was a man who took his appearance as seriously as he took his job. It was possible for him to admire Burke's casually expensive shoes while noting his nerves and anxiety.

  "Mr. Logan, you had some trouble at the Bluegrass Stakes. How did your wife feel about that?"

  "She was upset, naturally." Crushing out his cigar, he rose to pace.

  "Upset enough to want to avoid the crowds tonight and tomorrow? Upset enough to want to escape from it, and you?"

  There was a flat and dangerous look in Burke's eyes when he turned. "Erin wouldn't run from anything or anyone. The fact is I asked her to go back home until this thing was settled. She wouldn't do it. She insisted on staying and seeing it through."

  "You're a fortunate man."

  "I'm aware of that. Now why don't you get the hell out of here and find my wife?"

  Hallinger simply made a note in his book and turned to Travis. "Mr. Grant, you're the last person we know of who spoke with Mrs. Logan this morning. What was her mood?"

  "She was anxious about the race, about Burke. A little tired. She told me she intended to sleep a week when the Derby was over. The last thing on her mind was missing the race or leaving her husband. She's only been married a few weeks, and she's very much in love."

  "Um-hmm," the lieutenant said again with maddening calm. "Her ring was found in the stables. You tell me she didn't go in the stables, Mr. Logan, yet she was seen walking toward them early this morning."

  "To prove a point to herself, maybe, I can't be sure." His patience was stretching thinner by the second. If she'd waited for him to go with her- if she'd asked him to take her in, stand with her- He'd been the one who'd pulled away, far enough that she'd stopped asking him for anything.

  "What sort of point, Mr. Logan?"

  "What?"

  Patience was an integral part of Hallinger's job. "You said she might have gone inside the stables to prove a point."

  "She had an accident a few years ago and was afraid of horses. Over the past few weeks she's been trying to win out over it. Damn it, what difference does it make why she went in? She was there, and now she's missing."

  "I work better with details."

  When the phone rang, Burke jumped. His face was gray with strain when he lifted the receiver. "Yes?" With a muttered oath, he offered it to Hallinger. "It's for you."

  "They're going to find her, Burke." Travis touched a hand to Burke's shoulder as he passed. "You've got to hold on to that."

  "It's wrong. It's very wrong, I can feel it." It was welling up inside him; beyond the first panic, beyond the lingering fear, was a dread, a certainty. "If they don't find her soon, it's going to be too late. I've got to get out of here. Will you stay in case a call comes in?"

  "Sure."

  Hallinger watched Burke walk to the door and simply gestured for one of his men to follow.

  She must have slept. Erin woke from the nightmare soaked with sweat and shivering with cold. She murmured for Burke and tried to reach out, but her arms wouldn't move.

  It wasn't just a dream, she realized as she closed her eyes and took deep breaths to stem another wave of panic. How long? Oh, God, how long? Perhaps they were just going to leave her here to go mad or slowly starve to death.

  She wouldn't go mad, because she would think of Burke. She would close her eyes and remember how it felt to lie beside him at night with the moonlight coming through the windows and his body warm against hers. She would think about the way he would kiss her in that way he had-that slow, devastating way that made her bones melt and her mind go dim. She could taste him. Even now she could taste him and feel the way his hand felt as he brushed it over her cheek and into her hair.

  He had such wonderful hands, so strong and hard. They were always so steady, always so sure. Sometimes at night she'd reach for his hand and hold it against her cheek just to have it there. She didn't think he ever knew.

  If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost feel his hand against her cheek now. She could hold it there as long as she wanted.

  When her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she could see his head on the pillow beside hers. His profile was such a handsome one, with its firm jaw and the sharp planes of his cheeks. She liked it when it was shadowed just a bit with beard. Had she ever told him that? He was such a pleasure to look at.

  And if she was careful, she could cuddle close, not waking him. The scent of his skin would lull her to sleep. He always smelled as she'd thought a man should, without the sweetening of colognes. So she could cuddle close, and sometimes he would shift closer, his arm stretching lazily over her waist. Those were the best times, when she could murmur that she loved him. She'd told herself that if he heard it enough times in his sleep he would begin to believe it.

  So Erin kept her eyes closed and thought only of Burke. After a time, she slept again.

  It was nearly three, but Burke sat in the same chair. He'd gone out for only an hour, driving to the track with some wild hope that he would find Erin waiting for him. He'd prowled the stables and badgered the stable boys and grooms with the same questions the police had already asked.

  But there was no Erin, nor any sign of her.

  So he'd come back, to pace the parlor, haunt the bedroom and ignore the coffee that Travis poured for him. For the past hour he'd sat unmoving, staring at the phone.

  He'd told Travis to go, to get some sleep, and had been ignor
ed. It reminded him that there had only been one other person in his life who had stuck by him. If he lost her- He couldn't think of that. He knew that luck could change, could turn cruel like a change in the wind. But not with Erin.

  She hadn't had her chance yet, not a real one, to see everything there was. Maybe he'd been wrong to lock her in so quickly, to bind her to him. But she still had so much life, so much energy. Why was it he couldn't get past that one sick thought that whatever was happening to her now was because of him?

  When the phone rang, he grabbed the receiver with both hands. "Logan." The voice in his ear was thick with liquor, but he understood. And his heart began to thud. "Where is she?"

  "I don't want no trouble. Spiking the horse was one thing, but I don't want no trouble."

  "Fine. Tell me where she is." He glanced up to see Travis beside him, waiting.

  "I didn't want no part of it. He'll kill me if he finds out I'm talking to you."

  "Just tell me where she is and I'll take care of it."

  "Kept her at the track, in the van. I don't know what he's going to do. Kill her, maybe."

  "What van? What van, damn it?"

  "I ain't having no part in murder."

  When the phone went dead, Burke simply dropped it and rose. "She's at the track. They're holding her in a van."

  "I'll call the police and be right behind you." He drove like a maniac, ignoring red lights and speed limits. Kill her, maybe. Those three words drummed in his head over and over so that he didn't notice the speedometer hovering at a hundred and ten. The streets were deserted. People were asleep, anticipating the race tomorrow. Some would already be camped on the infield grass.

  He prayed that Erin was asleep as well. And when she woke he would be there.

  Gravel spit from under the tires as he braked behind the stables. Vans were parked there for trainers, for owners who preferred to stay close to their horses, for grooms and hands who could afford a little luxury. He only needed to find one. He started across the lot when he heard steps behind him. Fists clenched and murder on his mind, he whirled.

  "Easy, lad," Paddy told him. "Travis called me." He nodded briefly, though in the moonlight he could see that the old man hadn't slept, either. "Durnam's van. Which is it?"

  "Durnam? Travis said you didn't know which."

  "Call it a hunch. Which one is Durnam's?"

  "The big black one there." Paddy turned as he heard the whine of sirens. "The police are coming." But Burke was already racing to the black van.

  "Erin!" The door held fast. For a moment he thought he could tear it off with his bare hands.

  "Use this." Paddy handed him a crowbar. "When Travis called and filled me in, I thought we'd have use for it."

  Without hesitation, Burke began to pry the door open, all the time calling to her. He wanted her to know it was him. He couldn't stand the thought of her having one more instant of fear. The metal groaned, fought back, then gave. Burke gripped the crowbar like a weapon as he jumped inside. He shoved away the plywood partition that separated the back of the van from the cab.

  "Erin?" There was no answer, no sound. What if he was too late? Burke turned the crowbar in his hands, wiping sweat on metal. "Erin, it's all right. I've come to take you out of here." He cursed the lack of light and dropped to his hands and knees. He saw her then, curled in a corner in the rear.

  He was with her in an instant, but he was almost afraid to touch her. His hand went to her cheek first. So cold, so still. "Erin." In a fit of rage, he tore the gag away. When her eyes fluttered open, he nearly wept with relief. "Erin, it's all right."

  But when he reached for her she cringed, making small sounds in her throat.

  "It's all right," he murmured. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. It's Burke, darling, it's okay now."

  "Burke." Her eyes were still glazed with shock, but she said his name.

  "That's right, and I'm going to take you out of here." He shifted her, cursing under his breath each time she whimpered. Her trembles became shudders that none of his soothing words could halt.

  He found the ropes, but when he started to loosen them she cried out. "I'm sorry. I have to get them off. I don't want to hurt you. Can you stay very still?"

  She simply turned her face to the wall.

  The van shook as men entered, and she pressed back in the corner. "I need a knife." He looked up and saw Lieutenant Hallinger. "Give me a damn knife, then get out. She's terrified."

  Hallinger reached in his pocket with one hand and signaled his men back with the other.

  "Just hold on, Irish, it's all over now." He hurt her. He could feel each jerk and tremble inside his own body as he cut through the bonds. Both his skin and hers were damp before he had freed her feet as well. "I'm going to pick you up and carry you out. Just stay still."

  "My arms." She bit her lip, as even the gentlest touch sent the pain throbbing.

  "I know." As carefully as he could, he lifted her up. She moaned and pressed her face against his shoulder.

  When they stepped outside, the lot was bright with lights. Erin squeezed her burning eyes shut. She couldn't think beyond the pain and fear, and concentrated on the sound of Burke's voice.

  "You stay the hell away from her," he said very quietly, his eyes on Hallinger.

  "I called an ambulance." Travis stepped between Burke and the police. "It's here now. Paddy and I will follow you."

  As if in a dream, Erin felt herself laid down. The light was still too bright, so she kept her eyes closed. There were voices, too many voices, but she focused in on the only one that mattered. She jolted as she felt something cool over the raw skin of her wrist, but Burke stroked her hair and never stopped talking to her.

  He didn't know what he said. Promises, vows, nonsense. But he could see the dried blood on her wrists and ankles and the bruises that ran up her arms. Each time she winced, he thought of Durnam. And how he would kill him.

  "In the stables," she murmured. "I heard them in the stables, talking about drugging the horse."

  "It doesn't matter." Burke kept stroking her hair.

  "In the stables," she repeated in a voice that was thin and tended to float. "I couldn't get away. I tried."

  "You're safe now. Just lie still."

  They wouldn't let him go with her. Erin was wheeled away the moment they reached the hospital, and Burke was left helpless and hurting in the hallway.

  "She's going to be all right." Travis laid a hand on his shoulder.

  Burke nodded. The ambulance attendants had already assured him of that. Her wrists were the worst of her physical injuries. They would heal, just as the bruises would fade. But no one knew how badly she'd been scarred emotionally.

  "Stay with her. There's something I have to do."

  "Burke, you'll do her more good here. And yourself."

  "Just stay with her," he repeated, then strode out through the wide glass doors.

  He kept his mind carefully blank as he drove out to Durnam's farm. The rage was there, but he held it, knowing it would cloud his thinking. So he thought of nothing, and his mind stayed as cool as the early-morning air.

  The thirty-minute drive took him fifteen, but still the police were faster. Burke slammed out of his car in front of Durnam's palatial stone house and faced Hallinger once again.

  "Thought I'd see you here tonight." Hallinger lit one of the five cigarettes he allowed himself-which was five more than his wife knew about. "Figured a sharp man like you would have already put it together that Durnam was the one who had your horse drugged."

  "Yeah, I put that together. Where is he?"

  "He's my guest tonight." Hallinger blew out smoke, then leaned against the hood of Burke's car. If the footbath didn't work, he was going to have to go see the damned podiatrist. "You know, sometimes cops have brains, too. We were here questioning Durnam when the call came in that you were on your way to the track to get your wife."

  "Why?"

  "Well, assuming that your wife's disappe
arance had something to do with the trouble last week, which was a big assumption, I had to figure out who had the most to gain. That would be Durnam. I take it you'd already worked that out."

  "I had everything but proof."

  "We've got that now, too. The man was already on the edge. Our call coming in was all it took to push him over. He'd cleaned out his bank account, what was left of it. Knew that, did you?"

  "Yeah, I knew that."

  "Had his bags packed. But he wasn't going to miss that race tomorrow. Today," Hallinger corrected with a glance up at the lightening sky. "He wanted that Derby win bad. Funny how people can set their minds on one thing and forget about the consequences. How's your wife?"

  "She's hurt. Where are you keeping him?"

  "That's police business now, Mr. Logan." He examined his cigarette thoughtfully before taking another drag. "I know how you feel."

  Burke cut him off with a look. "You don't know how I feel."

  Hallinger nodded slowly. "You're right. And I doubt you're in the mood for advice, but here it is. You haven't been a Boy Scout, Logan." He smiled, a little sourly, when Burke only continued to stare at him. "I make it my business to check details. You've had a few scrapes in your time. Some bad luck and some good. Right now I'd say you've got yourself a good woman and a chance to make things click. Don't blow it on something as pitiful as Charles Durnam. He lost a hell of a lot more than a horse race. Isn't that enough?"

  "No." Burke pulled open the door of his car, then paused to turn back. "He gets out in a year, in twenty years-he's dead."

  With some regret, Hallinger flipped the butt of his cigarette away. "I'll keep that in mind."

  When Erin awoke, she opened her eyes cautiously. The hospital. The wave of relief came as it did every time she awoke to find herself safe. The light beside her bed was still burning. She'd hated to be weak, but had insisted the nurse leave it on even when the sun was coming up.

  Burke hadn't been there. She'd fretted and asked for him, but they'd wheeled her to a private room and tucked her into bed, promising he'd be with her soon. She was to sleep, to relax, she wasn't to worry.

  But she wanted him.

  Listless, she turned her head. There were already flowers in the room. She imagined Travis or Paddy had seen to that. They'd been so kind.

  But she wanted Burke.

  Shifting in search of comfort, she pushed herself up in bed. And she saw him. He was standing by the window, his back to her. Everything fled but the pleasure of knowing he was there with her.

  "Burke."

  He turned immediately. His first thought was that she was sitting up and her cheeks were no longer pale. His second thought was that if it hadn't been for him she wouldn't be in a hospital bed with bandages on her wrists. Because she was holding out a hand, he went to her and touched it lightly.

  "You're looking better," he said inadequately.

  "I'm feeling better. I didn't know you were here."

  "I've been around awhile. Do you want anything?"

  "I could eat." She smiled and reached for his hand again, but his was in his pocket.

  "I'll get the nurse."

  "Burke." She stopped him as he reached the door. "It can wait. Look at you, you haven't slept."

  "Busy night."

  She tried another smile. "Aye, it was all of that. I'm sorry."

  His eyes went hard and flat. "Don't. I'll get the nurse."

  Alone, Erin lay back on the pillows. Maybe she was still confused and disoriented. He couldn't really be angry with her. With a half sigh, she closed her eyes. Of course he could. There was no telling with men, and with Burke in particular. Whether it was her fault or not, she'd put him through hell. And now she was tying him to a hospital room on the most important day of his life.

  When the door opened again she made sure her smile was cheerful, and her voice, though her throat still tended to ache, mirrored it. "You should be at the track. I had no idea it was so late. Did anyone think to bring me a change of clothes? I can be ready in ten minutes."

  "You're not going anywhere."