Читать книгу Rescue at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 9

Chapter Three

McKenzie’s head ached. She gingerly touched the bandage and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t provide you with a description of the man. I never saw his face.” She’d tried to remember, but everything felt fuzzy and out of focus. She’d never felt so shaken or so unsure.

“Is the light bothering you?” the policewoman asked.

She opened her eyes as the woman rose to adjust the blinds on the hospital-room window. The room darkened, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain in her head. “It all happened so fast.” Her voice broke as she remembered the gaping open trunk and the man’s arm at her throat as she was lifted off her feet.

“You said the man was big.”

She nodded, remembering how her feet had dangled above the ground. She was five feet six so he must have been over six feet. “He was...strong, too, muscular.” She shuddered at the memory.

“You said he was wearing a baseball cap. Do you remember what might have been printed on it?”

“It was too dark.” She saw again in her memory the pitch-black parking lot. “He must have broken the light because I would have remembered parking in such a dark part of the lot.”

“Did he say anything?”

McKenzie shook her head.

“What about cologne?”

“I didn’t smell anything.” Except her own terror.

“The car, you said it was large and dark. Have you remembered anything else about it?”

“No.” She hadn’t been paying any attention to the car or the man and now wondered how she could have been so foolish.

The policewoman studied her for a moment. “We received a call last night from your receptionist about a man named Gus Thompson.”

McKenzie felt her heart begin to pound. “Gus works for me. You aren’t suggesting—”

“Is it possible the man who grabbed you was Gus Thompson?”

McKenzie couldn’t speak for a moment. Gus was big. He also had to know, after numerous warnings, that she was ready to fire him. Or at least, he should have known. Could it have been him? Was it possible he hated her enough to want to hurt her? “I don’t know.”

“We found a car registered to him, a large, dark-colored Cadillac. Did you know he had this car?”

“No. But his mother recently died. I think he mentioned she’d left him a car.”

“He never drove it to work?”

“No, not that I know of.” Again, she hadn’t been paying attention. She knew little about Gus Thompson because she’d chosen not to know any more than she had to. “I saw him parked outside my house one night. I spoke to him about it and I never saw him again, but I can’t be sure he didn’t follow me sometimes.” She thought of one instance when she’d noticed him driving a few cars behind her. But Bozeman was small enough that it hadn’t seemed all that odd at the time.

The policewoman raised a brow. “You never reported this?”

McKenzie tried to explain it to herself and failed. “I guess I thought he was annoying but harmless.”

“Did you ever date him?”

“Good heavens, no.”

“But Gus Thompson probably knows your habits, where you go after work, where you shop?”

She nodded numbly. Gus could have followed her many times and she wouldn’t even have noticed. She’d been so caught up in making her business a success....

The policewoman closed her notebook. “We’ll have a chat with Mr. Thompson and see where he was last night at the time of your attack.”

“He wasn’t at the office last night when you sent a patrolman over there?” she asked.

The policewoman shook her head. “He’d already left. Your receptionist was unsure when.”

McKenzie felt a shiver, her mind racing. Could it have been Gus who’d attacked her? She swallowed, her throat raw and bruised from last night. Gus was big and strong and she knew he resented her. To think she’d almost reassured Cynthia that Gus wasn’t dangerous. He could be more dangerous than she would have imagined.

“I used to work with his mother when she owned the agency,” she said. “I inherited Gus. He is my best salesman, but I know he felt his mother should have left him the business and not sold it to me.”

The policewoman nodded. “This could have been building for some time. We’ll see what he has to say.”

She had a thought. “I hit the man last night several times, but I’m not sure I did enough damage that it would even show.” She described the ways she’d hit him.

“Don’t worry. We’ll check it out. In the meantime, you’ll be safe here.”

As the policewoman started to leave the room, McKenzie said, “The man who saved me last night...” She had a sudden flash. You’re safe now. She blinked. “I’d like to get his name so I can thank him.”

“He asked that his name be kept out of it.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“There actually are people who don’t want the notoriety. I can contact him if you like and see if he might have changed his mind. What I can tell you is that he just happened to fly in last night and stop at that grocery store on his way to see family. Fortunately for you.”

“Yes. Fortunate.” She had another flash of memory. Warm brown eyes filled with concern. You’re safe now.

“The doctor said they’re releasing you this afternoon. We’re going to be talking to Mr. Thompson as soon as we can find him. Maybe going to the office isn’t the best idea.”

“I have to go into work. I was planning to fire Gus Thompson today. Even if he wasn’t the man in the parking lot last night, I can’t have him working for me any longer.”

“Why don’t you let us handle Mr. Thompson. We have your cell phone number. I’ll call you when he and his personal items are out of your business. In the meantime, I would suggest getting new locks for your office and a restraining order for both yourself and your business.”

She must have looked worried because the officer added, “You might want to stay with friends or relatives for a while.”

“I have a client I need to see tomorrow south of here. I could go down there tonight and stay in a motel.”

“I think that is a good idea,” the policewoman said.

* * *

“LOOK WHAT THE cat dragged in,” Tag Cardwell said as Hayes walked into the kitchen on the Cardwell Ranch. “We were getting ready to send the hounds out to track you down.”

“Hey, cuz,” Dana said as she got up from the table to give him a hug and offer him coffee. It was his first time meeting his cousin. She was pretty and dark like the rest of the Cardwells. As Tag had predicted, he liked her immediately. “We thought you’d be in last night.”

“Ran into a little trouble,” Hayes said and gladly took the large mug of coffee Dana handed him.

“That’s Texas-speak for he met a woman,” his brother joked.

Hayes told them what had happened and how it was after daylight before he left the police station. He didn’t mention the strange feeling he’d had when the woman had opened her eyes.

“Is she all right?” Dana asked, clearly shocked.

For months, Tag had been talking up Montana and its low crime rate among all of its other amazing wonders.

“She regained consciousness in the ambulance. Last I heard she was going to be fine—at least physically. I’m not sure what a close call like that does to a person.”

“Have the police found the man?” Dana asked, and hugged herself as if feeling a chill. Hayes thought about what his cousin had been through. She had personal experience with a psychopath who wanted to harm her.

“Unfortunately, the police don’t have any leads. I wasn’t able to get a license plate or even the model or make of the car the man was driving.” He felt exhausted and stifled a yawn. He’d been going on nothing but adrenaline and caffeine since last night. “Hopefully, the woman will be able to give the cops a description so they can get the bastard.”

“You look exhausted,” Dana said. “I’ll make you breakfast, then Tag will show you to your cabin. You two don’t have anything planned until late afternoon, right?”

“Right,” Tag said. “I’m taking my brother to see the restaurant space I found.”

“Then get some rest, Hayes. We’re having a steak fry tonight. Our fathers have said they are going to try to make it.”

“That sounds great.” He wasn’t sure he was up to seeing his father. Harlan Cardwell had only been a passing figure in his life. Tag, who was the oldest, remembered him more than the other four of them. Harlan had come to Texas a few times, but his visits had been quick. Being the second to the youngest, Hayes didn’t even remember his uncle Angus.

Hayes felt emotionally spent, sickened by what he’d witnessed last night and worried about the woman. He kept seeing her staring up at him with those eyes. He mentally shook himself as Dana put a plate of silver-dollar-sized pancakes with chokecherry syrup in front of him, along with a side of venison sausage and two sunny-side-up eggs.

He ate as if he hadn’t eaten in days. As it was, he’d never gotten around to eating that sandwich he’d purchased at the grocery store last night. After he’d been plied with even more of Dana’s amazing buttermilk pancakes, his brother walked him out to his rental SUV.

“So how are the wedding plans coming along?” he asked Tag as they got his gear and walked up a path behind the barn into the pines to his cabin.

He’d flown in a month early to talk his brother out of opening a Texas Boys Barbecue joint at Big Sky. The five brothers had started their first restaurant in a small old house in Houston. The business had grown by leaps and bounds and was now a multimillion-dollar corporation.

All five of them had agreed that they would keep the restaurants in Texas. But in December, Tag had come to Montana to spend Christmas with their father and had fallen in love with both Montana and Lily McCabe. Nothing like a woman and a little wilderness to mess with the best-laid plans.

It was now up to Hayes, as a spokesman for the other three brothers, to put Tag’s feet firmly back on the ground and nip this problem in the bud.

“It’s going to be an old-fashioned Western wedding,” Tag was saying, his voice filled with excitement. “I can’t wait for you to meet Lily. She’s like no woman I have ever known.”

Hayes didn’t doubt it. He’d never seen his brother so happy. All of the brothers had the Cardwell dark good looks. Add to that their success, and women were often throwing themselves at one of them or another. Except for Jackson, none of them had found a woman they wanted to date more than a few times. They’d all become gun-shy after Jackson had bitten the bullet and gotten married—and quickly divorced after he found out his wife wanted nothing to do with their newborn son.

Hayes couldn’t wait to meet this Lily McCabe to find out what kind of spell she’d cast over his brother—and possibly try to break it before the wedding.

* * *

GUS THOMPSON HAD never been so angry. The bitch had called the cops on him. He glanced toward the empty receptionist’s desk at the front of the real-estate office. It didn’t surprise him that Cynthia hadn’t come in today. Stupid woman. Did she really think he would blame her?

No, he knew Cynthia didn’t do anything without checking with her boss.

So where the hell was McKenzie Sheldon? No matter what was going on, she was usually at work before him every morning. She must have had a rough night, he thought with a smirk.

Where was everyone else? he wondered as he checked his watch. Had they heard about the police coming by his house last night?

When the front door opened, he turned in his office chair, the smirk still on his face since he’d been expecting McKenzie. He felt it fall away as he saw the cops. Hadn’t it been enough that an officer had shown up at his door last night, questioning him about stalking the receptionist at the office? Now what?

“Mr. Thompson?” the policewoman asked. Her name tag read P. Donovan.

“Yes?” he asked, getting to his feet. He saw them look around the empty office.

“Are you here alone?”

“Everyone seems to be running late this morning,” he said, and wondered why that was. Because they’d all been given a heads-up? Gus noticed the way both cops were looking at him, scrutinizing him as if he had horns growing out of his head.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” the woman cop said. “Ms. Sheldon has asked us to first see that you remove your belongings from the premises.”

“What?” he demanded. “The bitch is firing me? Has she lost her mind?”

P. Donovan’s eyes went hard and cold at the word bitch. The word had just slipped out. He’d known McKenzie had it in for him, but he’d never dreamed she’d fire him.

“I’m her biggest-earning salesman,” he said as if there had been a mistake made and he hadn’t made it. Neither responded. Instead, he saw the male cop looking around. “What?”

“Are there some boxes in the office you can put your belongings into?” the cop asked.

Hadn’t either of them been listening? “She can’t do this.” Gus heard the hopelessness in his voice. He hated nothing worse than the feeling that came with it. He wanted to break something. Tear the place up. Then find McKenzie Sheldon and punch her in the face.

The male cop had gone into a storage room. He came back with two boxes. “Please take only those items belonging to you personally. We’ll watch so we can tell Ms. Sheldon.”

Gus gritted his teeth. McKenzie didn’t even have the guts to face him. Well, this wasn’t the last she’d see of him. He’d catch her in a dark alley. He started to shovel the top of the desk off into one of the boxes, but the male cop stopped him. T. Bradley, the name tag read.

“Leave any inventory you’ve been working on.”

He grabbed up his coffee mug and threw it into the box. The couple of tablespoons of coffee left in the cup made a dark stain across the bottom. The same way McKenzie’s blood was going to stain the spot where they met up again, he told himself.

His personal belongings barely filled one box. That realization made him sad and even angrier. This business should have been his. When he was a boy, he used to sleep on the floor of the main office when his mother had to work late. This place had been more like home than home during those years when she’d been growing the business.

“Is that everything?” P. Donovan asked.

He didn’t bother to answer as T. Bradley asked for his key to the building.

“Ms. Sheldon has taken out a restraining order against you,” the cop said. “Are you familiar with the way they work?”

He looked at the cop. “Seriously? Do I look like someone who is familiar with restraining orders?”

“You are required to stay away from Ms. Sheldon and this building. If you harass her—”

“I get it,” he snapped, and handed over his key. As he started toward the door, T. Bradley blocked his way.

“We’re going to need you to come down to the police station with us to answer a few more questions.”

“About what?” The receptionist, bloody hell. “Look, I haven’t done anything that any red-blooded American male doesn’t do. I like women.” He realized they were staring at him. “Come on. She liked it or she wouldn’t have led me on.”

“Whom are you referring to?” P. Donovan asked.

He frowned. “Cynthia. The receptionist. She was threatening to call the cops last night, but I didn’t really think she’d do it. Why would you ask me that? Who else called the cops on me?”

“Didn’t she ask you to leave her alone?” the woman cop asked.

He shrugged. “I thought she was just playing hard to get.”

“What about Ms. Sheldon? Did you also think she was just playing hard to get?” T. Bradley asked.

Gus closed his eyes and sighed. So she’d told them about that time she’d caught him in her neighborhood. “There’s no law against sitting in your car on a public street. I didn’t even realize she lived in the area. I was looking at the house down the block, okay?” Not even he could make the lie sound convincing.

“Let’s go,” P. Donovan said and led him out of the building as if he were a criminal. In the small parking lot, he saw his colleagues waiting in their vehicles for the police to take him away.

He wanted to kill McKenzie.

“Please open the trunk of your car, Mr. Thompson,” T. Bradley said as Gus started to put the box in the backseat.

“Why?” he demanded.

“Just please open it,” P. Donovan said.

He thought they probably needed a warrant or something, but he didn’t feel like making things any worse. He cursed under his breath as he moved to the back of the vehicle and, using his key, opened the trunk. It was empty, so he put the box in it. “Satisfied?”

It wasn’t until T. Bradley rode with him to the police station and they had him inside in an interrogation room that they demanded to know where he’d been last night after he’d left the office.

“We know you didn’t go straight home,” P. Donovan said. “Where did you go?”

So much for being Mr. Nice Guy. Through gritted teeth, Gus said, “I want to speak with my attorney. Now.”