Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grace woke up tied, gagged, and with a bag over her head. One minute she’d been trying to get into the hotel room and the next she was in a moving car. She told herself not to panic. Slumped over, she tried to right herself when she felt a cold hand wrap around her bicep. Immediately repelled she slid in the opposite direction, putting as much distance as she could between her and her kidnapper.
“It’s about time. I was beginning to think Dwayne really screwed up.” Lyle removed the hood covering her head. “Especially when it took so long to call and tell me he had you.”
She squinted, trying to focus, the rising sun outside the car window nearly blinding her. They were on a dirt road, Lyle and her in the backseat of an SUV. The bald guy from the party, who she now knew was Dwayne, was driving. What made her heart go into overdrive was the rifle on Lyle’s lap, the rifle aimed at her.
She jumped as he reached over and yanked the tape off her mouth. It stung. “I know what you did,” Grace said to Lyle.
“Really? What is it you think you know, Ms. Irvine?”
“The police know too.” If he thought the cops were on to him, maybe he wouldn’t kill her. “Your Cadillac killed Jessie.”
The son of bitch laughed. He laughed. “Poor woman. Drinking got the better of her, but I’m sure with the right help, she’ll beat this.”
So they’d guessed right. Stanton’s drunk wife had killed Jessie. “How does one beat vehicular manslaughter while impaired? That’s a serious offense.”
He shrugged. The prick shrugged, as if killing an innocent woman meant nothing. “It’s a good thing my son filed for divorce three weeks ago then.”
“That bitch kills my friend and you’re concerned about your son’s career? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“That bitch has been a problem for years. Her drinking was easy to excuse after my grandson was killed. She was a mourning mother. But that excuse wore thin after a while.”
Had he missed the part about killing Jessie? Did he really think a drunk’s problem with the bottle was more important?
“Keeping her on a short leash became more and more burdensome. Well,” he waved his fingers in front of her face, “you saw what happened when she wasn’t being watched. She’s just lucky I have friends who knew how to deal with her little joy rides.”
“She was caught twice before hitting that tree.”
“Oh, she was caught a lot more than three times, Ms. Irvine. Like I said, I have friends.”
Crooked cops. Her father had been right.
“That last incident was hard to sweep under the rug. She’d done it in broad daylight—with witnesses,” Grace said. “And how are you going to explain covering up what she’s done this time? The police aren’t going to let that slide, no matter who you bribe.”
“I didn’t cover it up. Our foreman did.”
“And he’s going to take the fall for you?”
“They’ll have to find him first, won’t they? And that’s not going to happen. No, Rick is probably on some forgotten tropical island without extradition rights, living the life of a king.”
The son of a… She stopped herself. Lyle Stanton’s parentage had nothing to do with this. No, this was all on him and he was going to get away with it. “You paid him off?”
“You’d have a hard time proving that, so I wouldn’t go around slandering my good name.”
Did that mean he was going to let her go? After he’d brought her here by force? Then again, as he’d implied, who would believe her? Shit, her purse was missing with her cell phone inside. It wasn’t on the floorboard.
Lyle yawned. “I hate getting up early.” He yawned a second time. She took the opportunity to look in the rear cargo, and there was her purse among some tools. What were the chances of her getting to it?
“Now for the real reason we’re together. I have some questions and apparently, you have the answers.”
“Me?”
“You and Mr. Bailey. But considering my options, I chose you.” He snapped his fingers and the driver passed him a file folder over his shoulder. Lyle withdrew a piece of paper and turned it around for her to look at.
Not a piece of paper. A picture of her going to Regina’s Lewis’s workplace.
“It’s odd how many times you showed up in my surveillance photos. Here you are going into the IRC home office building.”
They were right. He was after Regina and her family.
He pulled out another picture. “Habitat for Humanity.” And then another. “New York County Public Defender Services’ office on Broadway.”
She made a sour face at the last one. “That’s a terrible shot. I look at least ten pounds heavier.” No way could he know they’d moved the family.
“This is funny to you?”
“That you’re stalking me? No, it’s not funny at all. Are you so worried I’ll bash your son in the paper that you’re having me followed?”
“I’m not following you.”
“Pictures say otherwise.”
He shook his head condescendingly. “I’d say I admire your sense of humor, but I don’t. Why were you at all these places?”
“Why do you care?”
“Ms. Irvine, I’m losing my patience with you.”
She’d be inclined to go the smartass route, but considering it was two against one, she opted to tone it down. “Research. I’m thinking about doing an article on humanitarian aid in the United States. How far are Americans willing to go to for their fellow man? Don’t worry—you’re not part of the story.”
“I see. Well you’re nothing if not imaginative.”
“I’m also a good reporter. I have the awards to prove it.” Did he believe her?
“Do they give awards to liars? Because you’re good at that too.”
They went over a particularly bumpy road, and without a seatbelt on, she had to brace herself to keep from falling over. She glanced outside the window and realized they were on a dirt road headed into the hills. “What have I lied about?” She wasn’t admitting to anything.
“Stop the bullshit, Ms. Irvine. Why were you looking for Regina Lewis?”
She furrowed her brow. “Who?”
She wouldn’t have thought an old fart like him could hit hard, but he proved her wrong. She underestimated the prick’s speed or she’d have had more time to turn her face; as it was his hand caught the left side of her cheek, making her ear ring. Several things went through her mind at the same time. He wasn’t kidding, Jessie had been right to be concerned about Isaiah’s welfare, and she wasn’t going to get out of this alive, not unless she kept her wits about her and didn’t panic.
“Now let’s try that again, shall we?”
She could try to play stupid, but what would be the point? Lyle wouldn’t believe her. Instead she tried another lie. “Her name featured prominently in Jessie’s notes. I figured she was a clue to her whereabouts. Then…” She swallowed, not having to pretend how hard this was for her. “Then when Jessie’s body was found, I thought Regina Lewis might have an idea who killed her.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“And what did you find out?”
“Nothing that could lead me to her killer. At first I suspected they were involved or that they were running from whoever had killed Jessie. But in hindsight I guess their employers had been right. The Lewis family went on an extended vacation.”
“And were you able to find out where they’d gone?”
She’d hoped he’d believe her lie and that it would be the end of it. But she now knew he was looking for them. And that wasn’t good. “Nearest I could figure out, Canada.” The least she could do is keep him as far away from them as possible.
“Canada? How did you come to that conclusion?”
“One of her coworkers said Regina often talked of visiting and in her last week in the office she’d bought a French dictionary.”
“Maybe she went to France.”
“Maybe, but she didn’t talk to her coworker about wanting to go to France.” They went over another nasty bump and this time she fell over on the seat. Lyle didn’t bother trying to help her, not that she’d want his foul hands anywhere on her.
“Is there anything else you discovered?”
She shook her head, reminding herself to stay calm. It wasn’t over until it was over. She’d taken several classes on learning to defend yourself without the use of your hands. What she needed was an opportunity to dropkick whoever held the gun whenever they got out of the car. She only prayed they wouldn’t think her much of a threat and only one of them would have a drawn weapon.
“I hope you’re telling me the truth.”
The SUV stopped. She shot a nervous glance at Dwayne, who was now getting out. He opened her door and, hooking a hand under her arm, pulled her out. She stumbled and had he not had a death grip on her bicep, she’d have fallen.
“Easy, you’ll leave bruises.”
Why did he not want bruises? Would they kill her and make it look like an accident? Would she end up like Jessie? Then she mentally slapped herself. This type of thinking would only get her killed. She had never been more grateful for her father’s incessant training. She’d been taught to shoot, to think like a cop, to fight.
She assessed her surroundings. How long had she been out? They stopped at an old outbuilding of some kind, a work shed maybe. To her left was a pasture, with a wire fence for as far as the eye could see and cattle in the distance feeding. To the right she could just make out a small creek. Were they still on the ranch?
Lyle led the way, a sign that he didn’t see her as threat. That was good.
She considered making Dwayne wish he didn’t have balls, but unless she could take out Lyle before he shot her, what would be they point? It would ruin any real chance she had of getting away.
Dwayne pushed her inside the dark, one-room building that hadn’t seen action in years. Cobwebs hung in the corners and dust covered a small workbench. In front of it sat an old cot and beside it, a wooden chair with most of its spindles gone. The two windows were shuttered closed, making the already small space hot and claustrophobic.
Lyle set the rifle down on the bench, yet another sign that he didn’t consider her dangerous. Could she reach it in time?
“Let’s see, Ms. Irvine, how honest you’ve been.”
She braced herself, ready to do some damage. When she felt the pinprick to her neck, she realized she’d made a mistake in not acting sooner. She was being drugged again. Falling to her knees, she thought of Jessie, the friend she’d lost. As her head hit the dirty wooden floor, Cowboy’s lazy smile came to her. Why hadn’t she told him she was falling in love with him when she had the chance?
She tried to open her eyes and couldn’t, but that was all right. She didn’t want to open them anyway. She wished whatever, whoever, was causing that incessant ringing would stop. She couldn’t move. Which might be a good thing. If the world didn’t stop spinning, she was going to puke. As time dragged on, the nausea subsided.
“You idiot, you gave her too much.”
Were they talking about her? Each second brought a memory. Cowboy had gone for pizza. She’d woken up with Lyle. And drugged a second time. But with something different, something worse. Eyes closed. Eyes closed. She repeated it over and over again. Through the fog she wasn’t sure why she needed time, only that they couldn’t know she was conscious.
“I gave her the same as the last one.”
“Yes, and look how well that turned out.”
Jessie, were they talking about Jessie?
“Go outside and make sure no one is coming. We’ve been here too long.”
What? How long had she been out? A door opened. A door closed. Someone paced. A door opened.
“There’s a car coming.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell.”
“What kind of car, you moron.”
“A jeep. Two men.”
“That would be my neighbor. This shed adjoins their property. They’re probably making sure no one is trespassing.” Lyle. That was Lyle’s voice.
“What should I say?”
“Did they see you?”
“They’d have seen someone, but they’re too far off to know who, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Of course it’s what I’m asking. Why the hell do I keep you around? I’ll go talk to them.”
“It’s hot in here. Can I at least open a window?” Dwayne asked.
“The back one, where they won’t see you, and for God sake, do it quietly.”
A door opened. A door closed. The fog began to lift.
* * *
He’d expected them to be surprised, pissed even. What he hadn’t expected was his brothers’ tears and his mother’s stunned silence. She’d stared at him for so long, he hadn’t been sure any of them had believed him. Then she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him so tight that had she been a man, she’d have cracked a rib.
“I knew it,” she’d said. “I knew I wasn’t going crazy.”
“Where they hell have you been?” Ellis, his oldest brother had demanded.
“Ease up.” Garth, the more intuitive of the pair, had known something was wrong. “Can’t you see he looks like shit?”
“I need your help.”
He’d explained as much as he could, leaving out his part in Edward’s death. That they didn’t need to know. He’d been a fucked-up kid who made bad choices and running away was simply one of them. Owning up to what he’d done might be the right thing to do, but now his focus lay in getting Grace back, safe and alive.
After nearly sixteen years of no communication, his brothers were there for him. Did absence make the heart grow fonder? Or had a fourteen-year-old kid read his family wrong? So here he was, in the back of his brother’s jeep, hiding. Of course his mother had been instrumental in getting his brothers to go along. She’d met Grace. She liked Grace. Whatever questions they’d wanted answered were shelved for later. Just like his conscience.
He hadn’t wanted to put his brothers in danger, but as the sun had started to rise there’d been no way for him to get up here without being spotted. If Lyle had Grace, and he was certain he did, then Cowboy needed their help.
The jeep stopped and Ellis and Garth got out, leaving the engine and the radio on, just like they’d planned. They jeep had no doors, so as long as his brother’s kept Lyle distracted, he’d be able to get out without being seen.
“Lyle? It’s early. What the hell are you doing out here?” Ellis asked.
He waited until he was sure his brothers had the asshole’s full attention. He could hear him feeding them some bullshit about cattle rustlers and how he’d come up to check things out. Cowboy tucked his gun into his jeans and slipped out from under the tarp and out the open door.
His brothers had assured him the area hadn’t changed much in sixteen years and the long grass would provide enough cover for him to circle to the back of the old cabin. They weren’t wrong. Which was good. Hiding a seven-foot frame wasn’t easy. The back window was open and through it he saw Dwayne. He couldn’t see her, but he knew Grace had to be inside. Did they have more men with them? He was fairly certain he could handle Lyle, but this meathead had to go first.
He waited until his brothers had finished with Lyle and driven back down the road and were out of sight. Then he made his move. The good thing about long grass in late summer, it was dry. And dry grass provided the perfect kindling. It was a risky move, one that could cause acres of land to be destroyed, but he was counting on the creek putting out the fire before it got to that. He pulled out the lighter he’d brought and lit the flame. Reluctant as Lyle was to do his own dirty work, he’d send Dwayne out to investigate.
It took a few minutes for the fire to build enough smoke to alarm Lyle. “Do you smell that?”
“Smoke?”
“No, pizza. Of course, smoke. Go outside and see what it is.”
Circling around, he waited. The front door opened and Dwayne emerged. “The brush is on fire.”
“How in the hell… ?” Lyle stuck his head out, looking to either side of the cabin, listening. Was he wondering if it was a trap? “It can happen this time of year. Put it out before it gets any bigger.” Then he returned inside.
Cowboy considered shooting him, but as he wasn’t sure who else Lyle had with him, he decided against it. Instead he waited for Dwayne to get close enough before diving for the man’s ankles. He was outweighed by several pounds and a standing Dwayne was too much of an opponent. Dwayne hit the ground in a loud thud. To incapacitate him, Cowboy had to break his nose and make him see stars, so his next strike could take out the man’s trachea. It wouldn’t kill him, but lack of air would knock him out.
As Dwayne struggled to get up, cracking his nose was easy. Cowboy’s next punch did the trick and out Dwayne went. Cowboy guessed he should feel bad. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure he hadn’t killed him. But then he remembered Lily and, poof, there went his conscience. He pulled his gun out of his jeans and stood.
“Guess that’s what I get for hiring a moron.”
Cowboy swung around to see Lyle standing on the front stoop, a rifle aimed in his direction.