Читать книгу Live Ammo - Joanna Wayne - Страница 12
ОглавлениеChapter Three
Tague thumbed through the newsmagazine for about twenty seconds before dropping it back to the waiting room table. It was his first time in a pediatrician’s office since he’d been a kid himself and he felt as out of place as a wasp in a beehive.
He was the only person in the room not accompanied by a kid or two. One woman was corralling three, none of whom appeared to be old enough to go to school.
Tague had nothing against kids, but the idea of being outnumbered by them three to one was a little frightening. They seemed more work than a herd of cattle, and they definitely required more supervision.
It had to be tough raising one on your own the way Alexis was doing. Already married and divorced though Tague figured she was likely no older than his twenty-six years.
The woman was definitely intriguing. She was feisty enough to try to fight off an armed thug and then commandeer Tague into action to go after her son. But she was ready to run from a cop just trying to help.
What really had him going was that she looked so hauntingly familiar. Yet he was pretty sure he hadn’t run into her before.
He couldn’t help noticing her great figure and stunning legs that did terrific things for her white shorts. Straight, blond, silky hair that cupped her chin and fell to her shoulders. Enticing lips.
But it was the eyes that really mesmerized him. Sort of a blue-violet color tucked in between thick, dark lashes. Sometimes fiery. Sometimes shadowed and troubled. Always hypnotic. She was not the kind of woman a red-blooded male would forget meeting.
And the druggie who’d stolen her purse had her ID and her home address. Neither Whitfield nor Alexis had mentioned the danger that could entail, but both had to be aware of it.
Even if the detective who’d be calling on her later today brought it up, he’d only warn her to be careful and keep her doors locked. She’d be on her own if the thug decided to show up for a return engagement.
Or maybe she wouldn’t be alone. She could have a jock live-in who could make the thug wish he’d kept running. But if there was a man on demand, Alexis hadn’t mentioned him nor called him—at least not on Tague’s phone.
That still didn’t make Tague responsible for her safety. After all, it was only a bizarre act of fate that had thrown them together. The only reason he’d been on that street at all was a detour prompted by a street repair crew.
Tague had come into town this morning to pick up a saddle from the best saddle maker in Texas. Not for himself, but for his brother Damien who’d had it made as a surprise for his new wife. He wanted it to be in the tack room waiting on Emma when they returned from their honeymoon.
It was midafternoon now and Tague was yet to pick up the saddle. Alexis had insisted he didn’t have to wait for her at the doctor’s office. But what kind of jerk would leave a woman and a kid stranded after the morning they’d been through?
Still, he was rotten at sitting and doing nothing. He stood and left the waiting room, choosing instead to pace the wide hallway of the three-story medical complex. Even that felt confining.
He took out his phone and called Cork. With his brother Damien on his honeymoon, he relied on his head wrangler more than ever.
“How’s it going?” he asked when Cork finally answered.
“Busy. Just finished moving the cattle scheduled for their injections into the holding pens. And one of the horses is acting colicky. Don’t know what brought it on. There’s been no change in the feed.”
“Which horse?”
“King.”
Damien’s personal horse. “Keep an eye on King. Administer the usual treatment, but don’t hesitate to call Doctor Benson if you think it’s necessary.”
“Will do,” Cork said. “Are you heading back this way yet?”
“No, I decided last minute to take care of some other business while I’m in town. I’m not sure what time I’ll get back to the Bent Pine,” Tague said. “I could be late so tell Mother not to wait dinner on me.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“If anything comes up, you can always reach me on my cell,” Tague added.
“Gotcha.”
While he had the phone out, he made a quick call to Harry Rucker and let him know that he might not make it to his shop to pick up the saddle today.
It was forty-five minutes of pacing later when Alexis came swinging out the door.
“Me got a sucker,” Tommy said, holding up a bright red lollipop before poking it between his lips.
Alexis’s brows arched. “You’re still here.”
“I told you I’d wait,” he said.
“I know, but I thought you might reconsider and decide you’d wasted enough time on me.”
“I wanted to make sure the boy is okay.”
“Really? You stayed for Tommy?” Her expression registered surprise and a hint of pleasure. “I appreciate that.”
“So where is my lollipop?” Tague asked.
“Sorry. You have to get examined to earn one of those.”
“Maybe we can work on that later?”
Her cheeks reddened.
“Once again, only teasing,” Tague said. “I’m just here to taxi you home.” He opened the door and they walked out of the waiting room together, Tommy sucking for all he was worth and holding fast to his mother’s hand.
Once Tommy was safely buckled into the backseat, Alexis climbed into the front seat with Tague.
Tague started the engine. “I’ll need directions.”
“Take a left when you leave the parking lot, then a right at the second light. My apartment complex is two miles down on the right. It takes up two blocks. You can’t miss it.”
“That would have been a long walk in this heat.”
“Ten steps is a long walk in this heat. I’m sure I would have opted for a taxi. I have cash at home that I could have paid him with.”
“Did the doctor give Tommy a good report?”
“He said he’ll have some bruising where the safety belt dug into his shoulder and on at least one of his legs. The flesh is already turning purple. But Dr. Pendleton detected no signs of internal injuries or sprains.”
“That’s great and incredible, especially seeing the condition of your Honda.”
“I know. I hate to even think about how close we skirted tragedy.”
“My mother would say that angels saw Tommy through the danger,” Tague said.
“I think I’d like your mother.”
Unfortunately, the thief had also been uninjured and able to flee the scene.
Alexis turned toward the backseat to check on Tommy. “Remind me when we get to my house and I’ll clean the sticky handprints from your seat.”
“Absolutely. Can’t have you messing up my work truck. Cows wouldn’t like it.”
Alexis wrinkled her nose. “You don’t really put cows in here, do you?”
“Not in the cab. And speaking of bruising, you have a nice range of ugly colors painting your eye.”
She pulled down the visor and checked her reflection in the mirror. “Pretty hideous, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Did the doctor say what you should do for that?”
“Put ice on it. In fact, his nurse had me keep a cold pack on it while I waited for the doctor to see Tommy.”
“What about that bump on your head?”
“He thinks I should have gone to the emergency room, but since I didn’t, and since I’m not having any problems with coherence, balance or unusual pain, he says I should just watch for symptoms of a concussion. In other words, it’s no big deal.”
“So you both got good reports. That should relieve your mind.”
“The only thing that could make it better would be to learn that the thief looks even worse after wrecking my car than I do.”
Once Tague had turned the corner, he spotted a supermarket on the right.
“You never got your groceries,” he said. “Do you want to stop now?”
“Thanks, but I can get what I need later.”
“Why wait? You have a vehicle and a guy to tote the bags now. Unless you have a handy man at your disposal.”
“I don’t have any man at my disposal, handy or otherwise.”
The answer pleased him, though it shouldn’t have. It wasn’t like he was going to stick around for more than a day. They were strangers. He was helping out in a crunch.
The fact that she was fascinating and a temptress even with her black eye didn’t mean he was looking to start parking his boots under her bed or even pop in for a beer on occasion. Not that she’d invited him.
He pulled into the supermarket lot and found a spot near the front door.
Alexis looked around cautiously as he parked, as if she half expected the monster who’d attacked her earlier to show up for a rematch.
“I don’t have any money with me,” she reminded him as she opened her car door.
“I do.”
“I’ll pay you back when we get to my house,” she said.
“Better than that, you can fix me a sandwich. I missed lunch and I’m famished.”
“I should provide more than a sandwich after all you’ve done,” she said, “but to tell you the truth, I’m a lousy cook.”
“Now you tell me after I’ve wasted a whole day on you.”
“Whoa, cowboy. I never asked you to do…”
“Just trying to ease a little of the tension that’s got you gripping my door handle so tight, you’re liable to dent it.”
He was beginning to think it wasn’t only cops she mistrusted, but men in general.
She exhaled slowly. “I am a little uptight.”
“And you have every right to be. But you’re safe now, so let’s go buy some groceries.”
“Want kokalat,” Tommy said, as she released the catch on his safety belt.
“I don’t think you need chocolate,” she said. “You just had a lollipop.”
“All gone. Want kokalat,” he said, unperturbed by reason.
“You can choose a chocolate bar for later, but you can’t open it until after dinner,” Alexis said as they started toward the door.
Tommy walked between them until they reached the lines of empty carts. Then Alexis swung him up and settled him in the child seat, buckling him in so that he couldn’t crawl or fall out.
It struck Tague how much they must look like a typical family out shopping.
The thought terrified him. He walked away from Alexis as soon as they entered the store, shopping alone to buy a few items, including a couple of steaks, two baking potatoes and a nice bottle of wine. Alexis could use a glass after the day she’d had. And he hadn’t been kidding about being starved. A sandwich wouldn’t cut it.
* * *
“T OMMY ’ S FALLEN ASLEEP ,” Alexis said when they arrived at her apartment with the few groceries she’d bought. “I should have known he was being too quiet.”
She shifted Tommy’s head to a more comfortable position and then unbuckled his safety belt before lifting him into her arms.
“Why don’t you let me carry him in for you?” Tague offered.
“I can handle him.”
“I wouldn’t feel too manly following you up the stairs empty-handed while you’re lugging a sleeping kid.”
“You’d be lugging groceries.”
“A carton of milk, a loaf of bread and a kokalat bar?”
“I bought more than that.”
“Not much.”
Because she’d be leaving town before the detective had his fingerprints and she’d be traveling light. And if Tague really knew her, he’d be running for the hills instead of offering to hang around.
“Far be it for me to offend the manhood of my chauffeur,” she said, handing Tommy over.
A niggling uneasiness crept deep inside her as Tommy stirred and then resettled with his head resting against Tague’s chest. It was the first time any man had held him since they’d fled Los Angeles in the middle of a dark, smoke-filled night.
She reached into the backseat for the groceries.
“Just get the chocolate so it doesn’t melt,” Tague said. “I’ll come back for the rest as soon as I put Tommy down.”
“I can easily manage two bags.”
“And leave my six-pack to boil? Besides, you’ve got to come up with a key. Do you have one hidden somewhere or will you need to have a manager let you in?”
“I’ll need to have a key reissued.” She would have never risked leaving a key where it could be found. She grabbed her two bags of groceries. The beer could stay where it was and go home with Tague.
She didn’t have time for company now. She had to find a way to get her hands on a vehicle that would get her out of town.
Tague stared at the three flights of stairs.
“I’m on the second floor,” she said. “Apartment 212, just up those steps and turn right at the top.” She motioned to the covered walkway that ran from one corner of the building to the other. “Two doors down. There’s an elevator at the west end of the building, but I never take it.”
“No wonder you’re in such terrific shape.”
She turned to hide the unexpected blush that burned in her cheeks. It was just an offhanded compliment. It shouldn’t have affected her at all, especially with all she had on her mind.
Tague started toward the stairs.
“You should probably go with me to the leasing office so that you can wait in the air-conditioning,” she said. “It may take a few minutes to get a key. It all depends on how busy they are.”
“We’re right behind you.”
She hurried to the first-floor office. Fortunately, one of the leasing agents was readily available and eager to accommodate. Alexis only told her she’d lost the keys, omitting any reference to the carjacking incident.
Once she had a replacement key in hand, she climbed the stairs with Tague at her side. The day’s developments, including his presence, were mind-boggling.
A day that had started out as normal—or at least as normal as any of Alexis’s days ever were—had quickly deteriorated. When that thug had driven off with Tommy, the terror had consumed her. The same way it had when another maniac had threatened Tommy’s life.
That fear still haunted her every waking moment and created a never-ending nightmare. No hunky cowboy had ever ridden to the rescue in that nightmare. And no matter how genial and accommodating Tague seemed, she didn’t dare trust him to play that role now.
They were almost up the stairs when she noticed an unfamiliar man leaning against the railing near her door. Tall, with red hair, a modest paunch, and ruddy skin. His stance and stare were intimidating.
Her muscles tensed and her arm tightened about the bags she was carrying, forcing a couple of oranges over the rim of the paper bag. They rolled for a few seconds before bouncing their way down the stairs like squishy orange balls.
“Are you Alexis Beranger?”
She left his question unanswered. “Who are you?”
“Detective Gerald Hampton with the Dallas Police Department.” He flashed a badge and an ID. “I
understand your vehicle was carjacked and then wrecked today.”
Her muscles relaxed until she was no longer grinding her teeth. “I was a carjacking victim, but I’ve already told Officer Whitfield all I know.”
“I’ve seen Whitfield’s report,” Hampton said. “But I’d still like to talk to you. This shouldn’t take more than a half hour.”
She juggled the groceries so that she could poke her key into the lock.
Keep cool, she reminded herself. Don’t do anything to arouse suspicions. She was the victim, not a suspect. She had to keep it that way.
Amazingly, the conversation didn’t wake Tommy. Apparently the day had taken a lot out of him, as well. “Just have a seat anywhere,” she said, as they entered the small and sparsely furnished living area. “I’ll put my son to bed so that he can finish his nap.”
Tague followed her to the bedroom and lay Tommy in his toddler bed. When she bent over her son, her arm brushed Tague’s. Awareness created a quivering sensation in her stomach. Was she now so desperate for a man to lean on that even a kind act affected her senses?
“Thanks,” she whispered as she backed away from the bed. “You handled putting him down like a pro. He didn’t even open an eye.”
“Beginner’s luck,” he assured her once they’d stepped into the narrow hallway. “Only kid I’ve been around is my brother and sister-in-law’s foster daughter Belle and she’s only a few months old.”
Alexis started back to the living area, but Tague stepped in her path. He leaned in so close she felt his warm breath on her neck. The quivery sensations in the pit of her stomach became more intense.
“Are you nervous about talking to the detective or am I misreading something?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were literally shaking when you spotted him outside your door.”
“It’s just been a very difficult day.”
“I can sit in on your meeting with the detective, if you like.”
“It’s not necessary.” In fact, it was downright dangerous.
At this point, Tague was likely a bigger threat to her anonymity than the detective was.
Yet, the truth was, she didn’t want him to leave her alone with a man who might recognize her at any moment and pull out his cuffs. Tague might only be a pseudo friend, but that was better than nothing.
“Stick around if you want, though,” she said. “I promised you a sandwich. Wouldn’t want to send you back to your cows on an empty stomach.”
“Good thinking. I’ll grab the rest of the groceries before they spoil in the heat and be right back.”
He gave her hand a quick squeeze. He was nice to have around. Nonetheless, when he left today, she’d have to make sure their bond was irreparably severed.
She joined the detective in the living room, choosing a chair opposite where he sat on the worn sofa she’d picked up at a secondhand store.
“I’d like you to start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened, step by step, leaving nothing out no matter how insignificant it may seem,” the detective urged.
“I’ve already done that.”
“Sometimes people remember more after the crisis is over. Every detail is important. We can’t get the carjacker off the street unless we can identify him.”
“You’ll have fingerprints,” Alexis said, all too aware of how damaging that would be.
“We can’t count on that. It’s a lot more difficult to get usable prints than you’d think from watching TV crime shows.”
That offered little consolation. Her prints were undoubtedly all over the car. Some were surely distinct. She went through the particulars again. “I tried to scratch his eyes out,” she admitted. “I brought blood and I’m sure I left scars.”
“Did you tell Whitfield that?”
“I think so. I don’t remember.”
“It’s not in his report,” Hampton said. “But it is important. It’s possible you have traces of the perpetrator’s DNA under your fingernails.”
She studied her nails, but could see nothing beneath the hot-pink polish she’d applied herself. “I’ve washed my hands several times since the incident.”
“There could still be DNA under the nails. I have a kit in my car that will collect even small fragments of skin. I’ll take care of that once we’re through talking.”
“So you actually have no ideas about the carjacker’s identity?” she asked.
“Did you think that we would? Your description was vague.”
“It happened too fast for me to register a lot of pertinent details, but the guy was stoned and a thug. You must have arrested him on other charges in the past.”
“It’s possible. We suspect he’s a member of a neighborhood gang known as the Death Knights. They’re suspected of several drive-by shootings and instances of violence over the past twelve months.”
“But no one’s been convicted?”
“No, because no matter how many people witness the crime, no one will testify against them,” Hampton said.
“Why not?”
“Fear of being put on the Death Knight’s target list.”
Tague stepped into the room. “So you’re hoping Alexis will do that for you.”
Alexis had no idea how much Tague had heard, but apparently enough that he’d gotten the gist of the discussion.
Detective Hampton leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees. “I hope Mrs. Beranger will have the courage to testify—or at least try to pick the carjacker out of a lineup.”
“I’ll help if I can,” she lied. She wouldn’t be around that long.
The detective turned to Tague, scrutinizing him as if he were a suspect—or at the least a troublemaker. “Are you a friend of Mrs. Beranger’s?”
“You could say that. I was with her at the scene of the wreck.”
Hampton studied his notes. “Tague Lambert?”
“That’s right.”
Hampton leveled his stare at Tague. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Whitfield’s report indicates you and Alexis never met before today.”
“Alexis needed a ride. I provided it. I don’t find that unusual.”
Hampton worried a frayed spot at the edge of his pants’ pocket. “Texans do tend to help their neighbors. You may want to stay in the picture awhile longer. I have good news and bad.”
“Good news would be that you apprehended the carjacker,” Alexis said.
“It’s not quite that good,” Hampton admitted, “but we did locate your handbag. It had been tossed into some shrubbery about two blocks from where the wreck occurred.”
“Was my wallet in it?”
“No wallet and no keys, but your phone was still in the side zip compartment. The handbag is being held for evidence at the present time, but I rescued the phone for you. I figured you might need it.” He took it from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Thanks.”
“So the armed druggie who attacked her still has the keys to her house and her wallet with her ID and address,” Tague said.
“That’s the bad news,” the detective said.
“What kind of protection do you propose to provide?”
Hampton looked a tad indignant. “We’ve alerted the patrol team for this area. They’ll keep close watch on your apartment, Mrs. Beranger. If you hear or see anything suspicious, call 911 and officers will be here in a matter of minutes. If you have a friend you could stay with or who could stay with you for a few days, that’s not a bad idea, either.”
No, but having cops watch her house was a horrible idea. That would make sneaking away in the night all but impossible.
“I won’t be staying here tonight,” she said. “I’ve already made arrangements to stay with a girlfriend.”
“That’s probably the best solution,” Hampton agreed. “By the way, we need your place of employment for our records.”
“I’m currently unemployed.”
“If it wasn’t a job that took you to that specific part of the city this morning, why were you there?”
“Horrid luck. But it was job related. I was planning to put in my application at stores in the mall near where the car was stolen,” she lied.
“Had you been to that market before?”
“No.”
“Then we can rule out that you were a targeted victim rather than a random one.”
“I’m sure I was random.”
“You might want to find a safer area to go job hunting after this,” the detective said. “And a safer place to shop.”
She didn’t care for his insinuation. “Are you suggesting that I deliberately took my son into a risky area?”
“I’m just saying you should be aware of your surroundings.”
Now he was starting to piss her off. “That market looked perfectly safe. The parking lot was full of cars. I saw other women with children. Is it not safe for them, either? If that’s the case, the DPD should do a better job of policing the area or put up signs saying Unsafe for Lone Female Shoppers.”
“That’s the first incident of a carjacking or violence in that particular parking lot,” Hampton said, going on the defensive. “I’m heading up a newly formed task force to clean up the area. And I will apprehend your carjacker,” he said. “Count on it. But we can’t work miracles overnight.”
“Maybe not, but you’d best make some headway quick if you don’t want to lose lives.”
“The department is aware of that.” Hampton stood and rocked back on his heels. “Now if you’ll walk down to the car with me, Mrs. Beranger, I can scrape beneath your nails and have the findings checked for possible DNA of the suspect.”
“I’ll be happy to accompany you.”
Suffocating heat smacked her in the face as she opened the door, but that was nothing compared to the fire-breathing urgency that filled her lungs as she followed Detective Hampton back to his vehicle.
He was the leader of the task force. His reputation was on the line. Nothing was going to get past him. Not even her.
She had to find a vehicle to use for her escape and she had to find it fast. Right now, her only option might lie with the cowboy who smelled of musk and pine and swaggered like a man who was incredibly comfortable in his own hunky body.
By the time she returned to the apartment, Tague had steaks sizzling beneath her broiler. She checked them out.
“Where did these come from? I was only going to make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“I did some shopping of my own while we were in the market. I also got potatoes to cook in the microwave.”
“I’ll wash them and get them started.”
“First, can you get me a corkscrew? The wine I bought probably needs to breathe.”
“Why did you buy wine? It’s not as if this is a celebration.”
“I thought it might help settle your nerves. But you don’t have to drink it.”
“Maybe just a glass. There’s a corkscrew in that top drawer just in front of you.”
As the odors filled the room, her stomach reminded her that it had been almost twenty-four hours since she’d supplied it with food.
She never ate breakfast and while she’d fed Tommy his lunch before they left the house, she’d merely had another cup of coffee while she’d studied her city map.
“How do you like your steak?” Tague asked.
“Free and cooked by someone else,” she admitted. “And medium rare.”
“Good. Judging from your lack of body fat, I was afraid you only ate carrots and lettuce on tasteless diet bread.”
“I can make a meal of that,” she admitted. “But I’m not opposed to a good steak.”
While the potatoes cooked, she set the table and then put out the sour cream and grated cheese Tague had picked up at the market. The guy thought of everything.
And he had a great truck—a truck she desperately needed to make her getaway. Maybe she could just take it. How difficult could a carjacking be if a man who was stoned out of his mind could do it?
“Are you really looking for a job?” Tague asked, jerking her back to sanity—at least for the moment.
“I am. Do you have one for me?”
“Do you have any experience as a wrangler?”
“I rode a horse once.” Actually, she hadn’t, but she was supposed to. A double took over when she’d panicked in the saddle.
“Once won’t cut it. But my brother could probably find you a position with his company.”
“Baling hay?”
“Nothing that glamorous. But he’s always looking for good office personnel. Only problem is he’s in the Middle East right now negotiating a very important merger.”
“What’s his company?”
“Lambert Exploration and Drilling. It’s a major subsidiary of Lambert Inc.”
That got her attention.
“Have you heard of it?” Tague asked.
“I’ve heard of it.” Anyone in Dallas who’d ever picked up a local newspaper or watched the evening news had heard of it. The company was not only a major player in the international oil scene, but was a major contributor to the Dallas arts and charitable organizations. “So you’re one of the filthy rich Lamberts?”
“I wouldn’t call us filthy—well, except when I’ve been shoveling manure.”
“But definitely among the city’s elite. Yet I don’t recall seeing you grace the society pages of The Dallas Morning News.”
“I’m not the gala type. Tux trapped me in a stranglehold once and thought I’d never break free. But I’m not completely without fame. I did get quoted in the Cattleman’s Association newsletter last month.”
“Thank God. I’m sure you said something brilliant.”
“I can have it printed on a T-shirt for you if you like,” he teased.
“I can hardly wait.”
Too bad she wouldn’t be around long enough to get it. One of the wealthiest men in Texas was basically slumming in her kitchen. Under other circumstances, it would have been great fun to check him out.
Now he was simply her get-out-of-town-free card—or he could be if she played this right. But she couldn’t make mistakes. If Tague found out who she was, he’d turn her over to the authorities even faster than he’d come to her rescue.
Neither of them talked much once they began eating. Her stomach was still uneasy, but she managed to get down most of the steak and a few bites of the nuked potato. Yet even with a full stomach, she couldn’t figure out her next move.
Tague wiped his mouth on the napkin and took a gulp of his cold beer. “You really remind me of someone, Alexis, and it’s bugging me that I can’t place who.”
“It’s the black eye,” she said. “It gives me that familiar girl-next-door look.”
“The girl next door to me is seventy, walks with a cane and has gray hair. Trust me, you look nothing like her.”
Just her luck. Apparently Tague had seen one of her three box-office failures. He might be the only one in Dallas who had.
She was building up courage to ask to borrow his truck when her cell phone jangled. Probably Detective Hampton with more questions.
She rushed to the living room to grab her phone before it woke Tommy. He’d slept long enough, but she needed a few more minutes alone with Tague.
“Hello.”
No response.
“Hello.”
She heard breathing on the line. Her palms began to sweat. “Who is this?”
Still no response. She started to shake.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want, Melinda.”
Her blood ran cold as the sound of Scott Jeffery Hayden’s voice burned into her soul.
