Chapter 15

Big Jim Garrett grabbed his phone the second time it rang. “Hello,” he said.

“Is this the gentleman who came to my classroom to inquire about Gracie Benson?”

Big Jim could immediately envision the vibrant woman on the other end of the line. “Why, yes, Miss Diaz, it is. Is everything okay with Gracie?”

Miss Diaz huffed out a breath. “She’s fine, only her mother didn’t come to pick her up. She called and talked to Gracie last night and said she would be here right on time today…but she hasn’t arrived.”

A spiral of fear coiled down Big Jim’s spine. “Well, her grandmother is here at my house. We can come get Gracie right now, if you’ll release her to us.”

Another deep sigh. “I couldn’t reach her other contact either, Tyler Garrett. I suppose there’s some relationship here?”

“My son.”

“I’ll release Grace to you and her grandmother, but I’m deeply concerned. If this continues, I’ll have to contact the child protective services.”

“No, I mean, yes. I understand. We’ll be right there.” He hung up and tried to reach Ty on his cell phone, but it went straight to message. Damn! Where is that boy?

Hurriedly, he located Fern Davis and loaded her into his truck. He may have exceeded the speed limit on the way to Langston, but he figured he had a damned good reason.

When he reached the town and headed to the school, he made another call to Tyler. This time, he answered.

“Where is everyone? I just got my horse in the stable and washed myself up.”

By the time they reached the schoolhouse, Big Jim had brought him up to speed. He was striding down the hallway of the school, Fern Davis in his wake.

“You need to find out why Leah isn’t here to pick Gracie up herself.”

“Damn,” Ty exclaimed. “Did you check the law offices? That’s where I left her.”

“Not yet,” Big Jim said. “We’re here for Gracie, and then I’ll drive over there.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m on my way.” Ty disconnected.

Big Jim stopped at the open doorway to the third-grade class. He reflected that this was the least-strained father-son conversation they had shared in months. He tucked the phone in his pocket. Fern Davis had caught up and scrambled around him.

“Where is my Gracie?” she demanded.

The pretty, little dark-haired teacher sat at her desk, and Gracie was right in front of her. Good. Front row seat. Teacher’s pet. He nodded to the teacher. “Miss Diaz.”

She looked him over from his face down to his boots. A smile spread across her face. “Mr. Garrett.”

Yeah, I’m looking a little better than the last time you saw me. “Folks around here generally call me Big Jim.”

Dimples flashed in her cheeks as she gave him an impudent grin. “They do, huh?”

Gran was busy gathering Gracie’s things and fussing over her. She hustled Gracie out, and they were walking down the hall toward the truck.

Big Jim took a moment to return Miss Diaz’s thorough inspection. He liked what he saw.

Miss Diaz picked up her purse and keys and headed to where Big Jim was standing. “Well, Big Jim, folks around here”—she gestured to the empty seats in her classroom—“they call me Miss Diaz.” She put her hand in the middle of his chest and backed him out into the hall. “But you can call me Celia.”

* * *

Ty was in his truck and speeding toward Langston before he’d even disconnected from his dad’s call. It felt as though his insides were clamped in a vise. There was no way Leah would have failed to be right there, waiting to pick Gracie up immediately after school, unless she was in some kind of trouble.

When he arrived at the law office, he found his dad’s truck parked in front beside a sporty looking Mustang, but Leah’s old beater was nowhere to be seen. He rolled to a stop and jumped out.

Big Jim climbed out of his vehicle, leaving Gran and Gracie inside. “I called Breck at home, and he said he thought Leah should still be here until five.”

“Something’s wrong,” Ty said. “She wouldn’t have left without good reason, and she wouldn’t have failed to pick up Gracie.”

Ty stepped to the door of the law office. The big beveled glass inset didn’t boast the clock-face sign that was always in place after hours. He put his hands up to shade his eyes from the glare and peeked inside. There was still a light on, and it appeared to be business as usual. He twisted the knob, and the door opened inward.

A deep sense of foreboding washed over Ty. “Hello?” he called.

Big Jim pushed the door farther open.

There was a bentwood coat-tree behind the door that had been knocked down. The only other sign of disorder was a batch of papers scattered on the floor near Leah’s desk.

“Leah?” Ty’s voice sounded hollow within the confines of the tomb-like offices.

He heard a soft moan from the far side of the room and rushed toward the sound. Spying a form crumpled on the floor behind the table she used for sorting, he called out, “Leah.”

Ty knelt and gently turned her over, seeing it wasn’t Leah. He helped the young woman to sit up as she made little sputtering noises.

She touched her throat gingerly. “He…he choked me,” she said in a raspy voice.

Ty noted the bruises on her face and throat. “Who?”

Big Jim called the sheriff and then fetched a cup of water from the water cooler against the wall. “Here, little lady. Drink this.”

She accepted it gratefully, taking several tentative sips, “The man…he was someone Leah knew. Someone from Oklahoma.” She swallowed hard as a rush of tears rolled down her cheeks. “Leah tried to help me escape, but he came after me and choked me. I thought I was going to die… I guess I passed out.”

The sheriff and a deputy entered through the open door and took charge of the scene. Big Jim immediately took charge of the sheriff and told him what they had learned.

The sheriff called for an ambulance and then came to squat beside Ty. He regarded the victim, who was crying and holding her throat. “Sara Beth? Are you okay?”

Ty supported Sara Beth, who seemed likely to collapse again. “Where is Leah? Did the man take her?”

The young woman turned her horrified gaze to him. “Oh no! I hope not. He admitted to killing some woman in Oklahoma. Just matter-of-fact like. He said he had been in jail and it was because of Leah.”

“Caine!” Ty said.

* * *

“Hurry up!”

Leah tightened her damp hands around the steering wheel, her fingers cramping with the effort. “I’m already going over the speed limit. You don’t want me to get stopped by the highway patrol, do you?”

“Hah! I been up and down this road a dozen times and I never saw a cop car.”

Leah said a silent prayer there was one coming to her rescue at that moment. “My friend…the woman who was in my office. Is she all right?”

“It depends on your definition of all right.” His lips twitched in derision. “I would say she was resting peacefully when I left her.”

“She’s okay? You didn’t hurt her?”

“Naw! She’s just a little bit dead. I choked her until she turned blue.”

“No!” Leah howled. “You didn’t have to do that. She—she was my friend.”

“It wasn’t my fault. You were the one who was sittin’ all cozy like, gossipin’ with your girl. I couldn’t leave her to tell the tale, now could I?”

Leah stared blindly out the windshield. Struggling with a combination of anger and terror, she cast about for some way to get free…to turn the tables on Caine, but other than running the car in the ditch, she came up blank.

“My boyfriend is going to come looking for me. He’s expecting me to be home by now.”

“Now don’t you go lyin’ again. I met up with your boyfriend this last week and I smashed his face in. Ugliest sumbitch I ever did see.” Caine slouched back against the door, regarding her through half-closed eyes.

Leah swallowed against the bile rising in the back of her throat. She saw him shaking with laughter out of the corner of her eye but refused to look at him.

“An’ then I took some rusty old shears he had on him and cut him good. He looks even uglier now.”

She sucked in a shaky breath.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Are you gonna cry for your poor dead boyfriend?”

“That was not my boyfriend,” she said as calmly as possible.

“Liar,” he said. “What would that guy be doing at your place? He was working on the fence when I come up on him.”

“No, he was cutting the fence. He was someone who had been bothering my grandmother for a long time.”

He tilted his head to one side as if he hadn’t made up his mind whether to believe her or not.

“Turn off right up here,” he directed, pointing to the farm-to-market road to her grandmother’s house.

She slowed the vehicle. “Where are we going?”

He snorted. “Why, we’re going home.”

* * *

Ty paced the length of the law office and back again. His dad and the sheriff were talking in low tones. Sara Beth had been removed by ambulance to the hospital over in Amarillo.

He couldn’t believe this guy, Caine, had come out of the woodwork to kidnap Leah. Where would he take her? What would he do to her?

Colton and Beau came into the office, looking around. “What’s going on?” Colton asked. “First there were messages from Ty and then Dad.”

Ty glowered at them. “A little late to the party.”

“Sorry, man,” Beau said. “We got here as soon as we could. We went over to the school, but it was locked up tight, and we saw Gracie and her grandma out in Dad’s truck.”

“What’s going on here?” Colton demanded.

Ty quickly brought them up to speed, but he was so anxious, their presence was more irritating than comforting.

“I want you boys to drive Miz Fern and Gracie back to the ranch and wait there with them.” Big Jim pointed at Colton. “You make sure they’re safe at the house.”

Colton glanced from Big Jim to Ty but nodded and reached for his keys. “Sure thing.”

Ty released the breath he’d been holding.

Big Jim called him over. “The sheriff just got an update on the Mustang outside. They ran the plates, and the car was stolen from a murder victim in Oklahoma.” He shook his head. “At the murder scene, they matched fingerprints to a convict who violated his parole. The victim’s credit cards have been used here in Langston too.”

Ty reeled as a wave of nausea rose to choke him. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but if there had been anything in his stomach, he would have hurled it right then. “I can’t lose Leah, Dad.”

Big Jim nodded. “The sheriff is on it.”

Ty glanced at the sheriff, who appeared to be punching buttons on his phone. “I see.”

“They’re looking for her car.” Big Jim placed his hand on Ty’s shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.” He glanced down and then raised his eyes to meet Ty’s. “I know I let you down in the past, when I didn’t listen to what was important to you, but I’m trying to make it up to you, Son.”

Ty released a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding. “I know you are, Dad. Let’s just get through with this. I need to get Leah back.”

“Do you have any idea why this guy targeted Leah?”

Ty nodded. “Yeah. Leah told me about someone she went to school with back in Oklahoma. He—he assaulted her when she was just a kid and went to jail for it. Sara Beth said it was the same man, and he was blaming Leah because he served time. She said he sounded bitter and admitted to murder right in front of her.”

Big Jim nodded. “Maybe that was the woman in Oklahoma. He sounds like a real nutcase.”

Fear coiled around Ty’s spine like a snake. And he’s got Leah.

* * *

Leah drove down the road toward her grandmother’s house. She had no idea what Caine had in mind, but it was clear to her he had no conscience at all.

Leah’s throat was so tight she could hardly breathe. She slowed and turned in at Gran’s drive. She ground the gears into park next to one of the big silver trucks and turned off the motor.

“Whoa!” Caine gazed around suspiciously. “Where did this truck come from?”

Leah had no idea which one of the Garretts it belonged to, nor where they might be situated. She wished they were ready to jump out and save her.

“It belongs to one of my boyfriend’s brothers. He left it here when he went out of town.”

Caine squinted at her, a wariness in his eyes. “Y’don’t say? Well that’s one sweet ride. I might be taking it with me when I leave.”

She swallowed hard. “Now what?”

“Now me and you are going to have some fun.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them on the dash. “Get out.”

Leah’s pulse pounded in her ears. I have to get away, but how? She surveyed Caine’s lean, muscular body. She might be able to outrun him, but he appeared to be in excellent shape, and he had overpowered Ray Carter, who had been well over six feet tall and strong as an ox.

Swallowing hard, she put her hand on the door handle and swung it open. She stepped out into the dry heat of an early dusk. Crickets chirped and cicadas sang. The air felt close and heavy, like walking into a damp blanket.

Caine unfolded himself from the passenger side, then sauntered close to where she stood.

“You must be hungry,” she said.

He straightened his spine and gave her a hard look. “Yeah, I could eat.”

She walked purposely to the house as though she had the right to. Marching up on the porch, she opened the door, letting it swing wide as she strode through. “Sit down. I’ll see what’s in the fridge.”

He followed close behind her, grabbing her shoulder and whirling her to face him. “Okay, but no funny business.”

Leah tried to maintain eye contact without flinching. “Sure.” She turned back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Let me see. I have chicken and I have ground beef. I can whip you up some mashed potatoes.”

“Yes,” he snarled. “I want chicken. Haven’t had any home cookin’ since they took me to prison.”

“Okay then.” She took the ingredients out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. “How do you want your chicken? I can bake it or I can fry it.”

He sucked in an audible breath and sank onto one of the chairs to the dinette. “Fried chicken? Yes, fried.”

Leah took out one of her grandmother’s heavy cast-iron skillets and set it on one of the front burners of the stove. She opened the can of Crisco and scooped a generous portion into the pan before lighting the burner under it. She stopped breathing as she reached in a drawer and removed a large and very sharp knife. Without turning around, she began to cut the chicken into serving pieces. The legs and thighs first. Caine didn’t move from the table, and she was afraid to look around lest she alert him. She opened a canister and scooped flour onto the counter, added salt and pepper, and rolled the four pieces in the mixture, then slipped them into the hot grease. She picked up the knife again, this time severing the breast bone. Deftly, she cut apart the rest of the chicken and dredged it in flour. Just act natural. Don’t look nervous.

Leah grabbed several potatoes out of a basket and began to pare them, hoping her homely actions didn’t raise any suspicions on Caine’s part. Rinsing the potatoes in a colander, she placed them in a deep pot and covered them with water. She set the pot on a back burner and lit the flame under it.

The silence pressed in on her. The only sound was the sizzle of chicken frying in melted grease. She was afraid to look at Caine. Afraid to speak. Mostly, she needed a miracle right about now.

“Who would have thought?” Caine broke the silence.

She glanced quickly around, then continued to turn the chicken, using a long-handled fork with two sharp tines.

He was still sitting at the table, his hands splayed out on the surface in front of him.

She had surrounded herself with possible weapons, not knowing when she might get the opportunity to use any of them.

“I never thought you would be the little Suzy Homemaker type. With that body, I figured you would have become a stripper.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she concentrated on spearing pieces of chicken with the long fork and turning them over, as though this task required all her concentration. All the while, she mentally rehearsed how she would stab him with the fork or the knife if he got up off the chair.

“I spent eight years thinking about what I would do to you when I got out, but I never pictured this.” The chair creaked as he leaned back in it. “I was just barely eighteen when I went to prison. Do you have any idea what they do to young guys in prison?”

Leah didn’t answer, keeping her head averted.

He slammed his hand on the table, causing her to flinch. “Do you?”

Leah dropped the fork, sending it clattering to the floor. Swallowing hard, she leaned down slowly to pick it up, her hands trembling violently. She shook her head, finally daring to glance at him again.

“Let’s just say them boys used me like—” He broke off, his voice low and deadly. “No man should be treated that way.”

Her gag reflex was working overtime. “Tha—that’s horrible,” she said.

He let out a low growl, like an enraged animal. “You think so? I promised myself, when I got out, I would make sure to pay you back for doin’ that to me.”

A heavy silence followed.

She stole another glance at Caine. His face was like a marble sculpture of pure hatred.

* * *

A sheriff’s department helicopter hovered over the scene, relaying images back to headquarters.

Ty stared at the video on the sheriff’s monitor. His heart throbbed in his chest, resounded in his ears, quickened the blood pulsing through his veins. There she is.

“She may not be with Caine at all,” the sheriff said, his tone reasonable. “I’ll just send a couple of deputies out to the Davis place to make sure she’s all right.”

Yeah right. “You do that, Sheriff. In the meantime, I’ll be checking on her myself.” Ty made a break for the door.

“Now, hold on a minute, Son,” Big Jim shouted.

“Wait!” the sheriff yelled.

“Damn!” Big Jim let out a disgusted snort and followed on Tyler’s heels.

Ty was already halfway to his truck when Big Jim caught up with him. “Hang on.” He laid a hand on Ty’s shoulder.

Ty spun around, not willing to let anyone get in the way. “I can’t stop, Dad. I have to find her.”

“I know that,” Big Jim said. “We better take my truck.”

Ty let out an impatient sigh. “Why?”

Big Jim gave him a knowing look. “Because I have guns.” He clicked his remote to unlock his vehicle.

“Okay,” Ty said. “But I’m driving.”

Big Jim tossed him the keys. “Knock yourself out.” He climbed into his own truck on the passenger side and reached for the seat belt.

Ty was astonished. Was his father actually letting him take the lead on something? He quickly recovered and jumped into his dad’s silver, extended-cab pickup, identical to his except in color. Well, with perhaps a few more bells and whistles. He turned the key in the ignition, taking in a huge lungful of air when the powerful diesel engine roared to life. He tore out and made it to the edge of town in no time at all. He glanced at his father. “Guns, Dad?”

Big Jim issued a huge sigh. “Of course.” He opened the glove compartment and took out a large caliber handgun and a box of shotgun shells.

He reached behind the seat and pulled a shotgun in a case to the front seat. “I just figured we ought to be prepared for all eventualities.”

A chill ran down Ty’s spine. To hear his own father talk about the possibility of pointing a gun at someone was hard to take. “Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Son, if this Caine fellow is with her, he’s a dangerous son of a bitch. You can’t go in there all ‘let’s talk this over and be friends.’ That man killed a woman in Oklahoma and tried to kill Sara Beth Jessup. I’m pretty sure they’re not having a tea party.”

Ty nodded. “I know you’re right. I just hope he hasn’t hurt her.”

He drove in silence, way faster than the law allowed. When he slowed to turn off the highway and onto the farm-to-market road, his palms were damp. This Caine had hurt Leah in the past. He had injured Gracie. A cold rage seethed in Ty’s gut. He didn’t need a gun. If Caine hurt Leah again, Tyler Garrett would kill him with his bare hands.

* * *

Leah used Gran’s ancient potato masher to pulverize the hot, boiled potatoes. The sound of the metal instrument against the stainless-steel bowl was enough to set her teeth on edge. She added butter, salt, pepper, and a little cream and continued the assault on the potatoes.

She had taken the last pieces of chicken out of the black cast-iron skillet and set them on a folded paper towel on a big Fiestaware platter. Now she had the two items ready with no more stalling. She was out of time. Taking a plate out of the cabinet, she loaded it up with a big serving of potatoes and placed three pieces of chicken alongside. She turned to Caine, approaching him warily with her offering.

“Right here,” he growled, indicating the space in front of him.

She sat the plate down, but he grabbed her wrist when she tried to draw away. “Bring me a beer and some ketchup.” He released her abruptly.

Leah was amazed her rubbery legs could transport her to the refrigerator. She opened it and peered inside, momentarily confused as to what she was looking for. Pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling, she found the ketchup in the door and removed a longneck bottle of beer from the back of the top shelf.

“Hurry up!” Caine snapped.

“Coming,” she sang out, trying to inject a cheery note into her voice.

She set both items on the table and stepped back.

“No, sit yourself right down here. I want you to tell me about my daughter.”

All the air was sucked out of her lungs. Her heart stopped beating. Her brain flatlined. He had said the words she feared most. In her heart, she had never thought of Gracie as having any connection with Caine. Gracie belonged to Leah. Caine had no right to Gracie or any knowledge of her.

“Well?” He picked up a drumstick, tearing a bite of meat off with his teeth as he glowered at Leah.

“Um, she’s eight now.”

Caine snorted. “Well, I know that. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“She’s in the third grade, and she’s very smart.” Leah heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Maybe it’s Ty. Maybe it’s someone to help me. She raised her voice and started talking faster. “She loves animals, and she has a dog named Eddie. She’s only been in her new school a few days, but she already has a friend.”

The screech of tires right outside was impossible to cover up.

Caine turned around to stare out through the screen and the open doorway. “Oh, hell no!” He jumped up and grabbed Leah, dragging her in front of him. He backed up to the counter where she’d been working and grabbed the knife she had used to cut up the chicken. When Ty burst through the door, Caine held the knife against her throat. “Easy now,” he warned. “You need to back on out of here. Me and the little woman here was just settin’ down to dinner.”

“Put the knife down,” Ty ordered.

“Well, you ain’t in no position to be tellin’ me what to do.” Caine took a step backward, but Ty advanced toward him.

“You do not hurt her,” Ty said. “You can walk away from this, but so help me, if you hurt her, I will take your life.”

Caine laughed and loosened his grip on her. “This must be the boyfriend.” He gestured with the knife, and she twisted away, reaching for the cast-iron skillet, still filled with smoking hot grease. When Caine grabbed at her again, she slung the grease on him, bashing him with the skillet in the process.

Cursing, Caine howled in anguish, dropping the knife and sinking to one knee.

Ty rushed him and threw a punch that took Caine all the way down to the floor. Ty scooped Leah into his arms, crushing her against his chest. “Are you all right?”

Leah wrapped her arms around Ty’s torso, but when she opened her eyes, she saw Caine reach for the knife as he struggled to his feet. She let out a scream, and Ty turned, thrusting her behind him.

At that moment, a shotgun blast exploded Caine’s chest. He fell back, lying motionless on the floor, his eyes wide open, gazing at the ceiling.

Big Jim Garrett stood, holding a shotgun on the fallen man, a steely expression on his face.

Ty drew her back into his arms. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Leah pressed her face against his shirt.

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

Big Jim snorted. “’Bout damned time.”