Читать книгу Cowboy Commando - Joanna Wayne - Страница 8

“You sort of kidnapped her? What is that supposed to mean?”

Linney tried to stay calm. “I didn’t set out to do it. The woman at the day-care center called and said Julie was crying hysterically. I went to check on her.”

“Why did the center call you instead of her parents?”

“They tried to reach her father. He didn’t answer his cell phone. Amy—her mother—had put my name on the emergency caller list so the woman who manages the center called me.”

“If you’re on the list, then how is this kidnapping?”

“I said ‘sort of’ kidnapping. You have to pay attention, Cutter.”

“It would be easier if you didn’t talk in riddles. The father must have called you by now to see where his daughter is and when you plan to bring her home.”

“He hasn’t.”

“Then this is simple. Just take Julie home.”

“It’s not quite that simple.”

His eyebrows arched again. “Because…”

“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Julie.”

“She’s already asleep? What did you do, drug her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s exhausted and she’s been through a terrible ordeal over the last few days.”

“A sort-of kidnapping will surely help that.”

“Sarcasm under fire is not the mark of a hero, Cutter Martin.”

“I never claimed to be a hero and we’re not under fire. Not yet, anyway.”

Linney flashed what she hoped was a persuasive look. “Would you just sit down and let me explain?”

“I like standing, and I don’t see how anything you will say can justify a kidnapping—or even a sort-of one.”

Linney studied Cutter. He looked different than he had the last time she’d seen him. Older, harder and, if possible, even more ruggedly handsome. Then, desire had fired in his dark eyes. Tonight his gaze seared into hers accusingly.

His five o’clock shadow was pronounced, his face a mix of taut planes and angles, his muscles strained and pushing against the white cotton dress shirt. The white dress shirt didn’t fit the image she’d carried of him for the last six years, not even with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

The rest of him fit the image perfectly. The lean, hard body. The tanned skin. The thick locks of dark hair falling across his forehead giving him a devil-may-care look and a sexiness that wouldn’t quit.

Linney took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then pushed her back against the slats of the chair. “Julie’s mother drowned last Friday. Amy Colley. You may have read about it in the newspaper. It happened in Green’s Harbor. That’s a small town on the bay about twenty miles south of Houston.”

“Yeah, I know where Green’s Harbor is. And I read about the accident. Her husband came home from work and found her floating in their backyard swimming pool.”

“That’s what he said. It’s not what happened.”

Cutter’s eyebrows arched. “Oh?”

“He killed her.”

“By he, I assume you are talking about the husband?”

“Yes, Dane Colley. Amy’s husband.”

“And also Julie’s father?”

She nodded.

“I suppose you have proof of your accusation.”

“I don’t have hard evidence, if that’s what you mean. But I know he did it.”

“So now you’re psychic?”

“This isn’t a joke, Cutter.”

“I’m not laughing.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “Didn’t I read that Dane Colley is a homicide detective?”

“Yes, and that’s the worst part of all this. He knows how to play the system and he’s got friends in all the right places. They’ll take him at his word and there won’t be a real investigation into the murder. He’ll just kill my friend Amy and get away with it—unless someone stops him.”

“Did you talk to the Green’s Harbor Police Department about your suspicions?”

“I tried. I gave the clerk a statement and he said I’d hear from one of the detectives. That was two days ago. I’ve called several times since then as well. No one’s called me back. I also called the news department of several of the local TV channels. They told me they’d need more than groundless suspicions to run a story.”

Cutter walked to the refrigerator and retrieved a couple more beers. He opened them both and set one in front of Linney. “Only two left,” he said. “I’m not sure that will get us through this explanation.”

“You asked for the facts.”

“I’m still waiting for the main one. Why is the daughter of the recently deceased mother and the homicide-detective father sleeping in my bedroom?”

Linney pushed back from the table. “Don’t you get it? I can’t get through to the police via normal channels, but if they suspect I’ve kidnapped Julie, they’ll have to contact me. And if the media gets involved, all the better.”

Cutter took a huge gulp of the cold beer before finally straddling one of the kitchen chairs. He stretched his left leg in front of him and massaged the thigh.

She knew from what Merlee had told her that he’d taken two bullets in that leg. She wondered if the stress she was causing him was making the wounds ache. She hoped not, but it couldn’t be helped.

“You’re not making a lot of sense, Linney. If there’s a beginning to this story, I suggest you start there.”

The beginning? Linney had no clue how far back the roots of the murder actually extended, but her first suspicion about Dane Colley went back to the day she’d met Amy. It had been the faculty’s first day of school last September. The fading bruise on Amy’s right cheek had caught Linney’s attention during the principal’s introduction of new staff members.

It had brought back bitter memories of the one and only time Alfred had slugged her. She’d packed her bags that night, left his overpriced, gaudily grandiose mansion in River Oaks and never returned.

The punch had done what years of unhappiness and feeling like the pseudo-princess of a bogus furniture kingdom couldn’t. It had knocked some sense into her and freed her to file for divorce.

Linney hadn’t asked Amy about her bruise that day, but she had asked her about several subsequent ones over the next few months as she and Amy developed a friendship. Amy had always made flimsy excuses—until last week.

“Are you going to talk or not?”

The impatience in Cutter’s voice pushed Linney to find a place to begin. “Amy and I both work at the Green’s Harbor Kindergarten and Early Learning Center,” she said, deciding basic background was all he really needed to know. “I’m a teacher. Amy’s a paraprofessional.”

“When did you start teaching?”

“Two years ago, right after I left Al. This was Amy’s first year and she’s come to work with bruises on her face and arms too many times to count.”

“Did she say her husband had caused them?”

“No. I think she was too embarrassed to admit it. She always came up with some ridiculous story about falling over a rake in the garden or walking into an open door.”

“Yet you seem sure he’s to blame?”

All too sure. Linney took a sip of the beer. “Amy called me last Thursday and asked me to meet her at the café on Bay Drive for coffee. It was the first time I’d heard from her since school had let out three weeks earlier for summer vacation and I was really looking forward to seeing her.”

“What happened?”

“When I arrived, she was already sitting at one of the outside tables near the water. The first thing I saw when she looked up was a violently purple bruise and a ball of swollen flesh beneath her right eye. That time when I asked her about it, she admitted that Dane had punched her.”

“Did she say why?”

“Does it matter why?”

“Call me curious.”

“He’d tried to reach her on her cell phone and couldn’t.”

“Sounds brutal.”

“It sounds criminal,” Linney said, “because it is. Amy told me she was afraid of him. She’d made up her mind to leave him, even though he’d threatened to kill her if she ever tried it.”

If Linney had suspected for a second what was going to follow, she’d have begged Amy to run away that very day. But who could foresee murder?

“And this was last Thursday before Amy Colley drowned on Friday?”

“Right. Dane must have found out she was leaving and made good on his threat.”

“That’s a big assumption, Linney.”

“Men kill their wives. I hear about cases like that all the time on those TV crime documentaries. And those are just the ones who get caught.”

“Maybe so, but thousands of women leave abusive husbands every year. Very few of those husbands resort to murder.”

“Then I guess Dane’s the exception.”

“Have you seen him since Amy’s death?”

“I saw him at Amy’s funeral, but didn’t get a chance to speak to him.”

“When was that?”

“Two days ago, on Monday afternoon.”

“The same day you went to the police.”

“Right. I attended the funeral with several of the other teachers from the school and more than one commented that Dane didn’t look like a man bereft because he’d just lost his wife. He didn’t shed a single tear. That added a lot of fuel to my suspicions.”

“You can’t accuse a man of murder based on the flow of his tears, or the lack thereof.”

“I’m not basing my accusation on any one thing. But when you put it all together, it’s obvious that the drowning was no accident.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I’d agree that the drowning raises a few questions. What I don’t see is how you think being arrested for kidnapping is going to improve the situation.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Almost anything is better than that, unless you’re ready to go to jail to prove your point.”

“Dane killed Amy,” Linney said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t get away with it. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

“All I understand is that you are in big trouble, Linney. How long have you had Julie?”

“Since four-thirty.”

Dane checked his watch. “It’s after eight now. I can’t believe Dane hasn’t tried to get in touch with you.”

“He doesn’t have my cell-phone number, and I haven’t been back to my house.”

“He’s a cop. He could get your number.”

“Then I don’t know why he hasn’t called. Maybe he’s just glad not to have his daughter around.”

“More likely, every cop in this part of Texas is out looking for you.”

Cutter reached over and laid his hands on top of hers. The touch was casual, almost incidental, yet it affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. It was as if his strength and support made her feel more vulnerable.

She was swimming in dangerous waters, not only in the situation with Julie but in her own conflicted emotions regarding Cutter. She wasn’t the naive, gullible, nineteen-year-old coed she’d been six years ago. She didn’t need another relationship on a fast track to nowhere—no matter how hot and thrilling their brief fling had been.

“I can see where you’re coming from, Linney, but kidnapping a detective’s kid is over-the-top. Even if some high-priced lawyer keeps you from going to prison, no school board is going to hire a teacher who’s been accused of kidnapping.”

She hadn’t considered that, and she loved teaching.

Cutter stood and walked back to the counter, leaning his backside against it and staring at her as if she were some disobedient private he was about to dress down.

“I have a friend in the Houston Police Department, Linney. Goose Millburn and I were on the same SEAL team for my first two years in the service. I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I have on several occasions. I’d like to run the situation by him and get his take on this.”

“His take will be that I return Julie and we’ll be right back where we started—with Dane getting away with murder.”

Cutter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started punching in numbers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Calling Goose.”

Linney’s temper flared. “I didn’t agree to that.”

He turned away, but kept punching in numbers. Linney jumped on his back and tried to wrestle the phone from his hand. Her right foot hit the table and the two empty plates went crashing to the floor. Her fingers stayed wound around the phone.

A whimper came from the doorway. When Linney looked up, Julie was standing just inside the kitchen, clutching in her tiny hands the teddy bear she never slept without. Her eyes were wide with fear. Linney let go of the phone and slid from Cutter’s back.

“We’re not fighting, sweetheart. We’re just playing around, aren’t we, Cutter?” She kissed him on the cheek to prove her point to the bewildered and frightened tot.

Cutter’s arm closed around her and his hand splayed around her shoulder. He was merely playing along with her attempt to reassure Julie, but something warm and unexpected zinged along Linney’s nerve endings.

She jerked away. She’d had six years to get over her meaningless sexual marathon with Cutter. Whatever she felt now was just some kind of poorly timed reflex brought on by her own desperation.

Julie crept closer, her stuffed toy held tight against her chest and her gaze cast toward the floor.

“I guess we don’t have to make the call this instant,” Cutter said. “Get Julie settled again, and then we’ll eat. No use letting good pasta go to waste.”

“Thanks.” It was merely a reprieve, but that was better than a phone call to the cops. It would give her time to think and decide what she wanted to do. She figured she had about half an hour before she had to make her next move.

She didn’t have a clue what that would be.

THEY BARELY SPOKE through dinner. What else was there to say? Cutter had given his ultimatum. Call Goose or take Julie home. Arguing with him would be a waste of time, and Linney wasn’t about to beg.

She tried to force down a few bites of the food, but it stuck in her dry throat. Cutter, on the other hand, went back for seconds. Apparently, his impatience and irritation with her had little effect on his appetite.

She glanced at her watch, the extravagant diamond-studded Rolex Al had given her for their second wedding anniversary. She’d never liked it. “It’s almost time for the nine o’clock news. I’d like to see if they mention a kidnapping.”

“You finish eating. I’ll turn on the TV.” Cutter took his plate to the kitchen, rinsed it beneath the spray of the faucet and left it in the sink before flicking on the set.

Linney tensed, as the blond female anchor looked grimly into the camera to deliver the night’s teaser.

“A double homicide in Green’s Harbor has left three children orphans and set off a massive manhunt for two unidentified suspects who held a family hostage for nearly two hours this afternoon.”

No mention of a kidnapping or an Amber Alert. So Dane hadn’t reported his daughter missing. And he hadn’t tried to call her. It didn’t add up.

“And this just in…”

Linney’s attention spiked again.

“Income tax fraud charges are expected to be filed tomorrow against furniture magnate Al Kingston. Stay tuned for these and other important happenings from the Houston area.”

Linney had just stood to carry her own plate to the sink. The fork she’d balanced on the edge clattered and fell to the tiled kitchen floor, spraying her blouse with red sauce on the way down. She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed, spreading the stain.

Cutter rushed to the sink, wet a clean dish towel and came to her rescue. He pressed the cloth to the stain, a spot right over her right breast. The water seeped into the fabric outlining the nipple and revealing its puckered tip.

The air turned steamy. “Just leave it,” she murmured, backing away.

Her cell phone rang, startling her and making her jump so that she tripped over the leg of her chair. Cutter caught her and steadied her. “Are you all right?”

Not even close, but she nodded. The phone kept ringing.

“Don’t you think you should get that?”

“It’s probably someone calling about Al. I don’t want to deal with that.”

“It could be Dane.”

She went to the living area and grabbed the purse from her handbag, checking the caller ID. “Margie Clemens. She’s a teacher at the kindergarten. She probably just caught the news about Al.”

Linney sank to the sofa to catch the rest of the news. Cutter propped himself up on the arm of the overstuffed occasional chair near the window. There was no mention of the kidnapping.

“Check your cell phone,” Cutter suggested at the next commercial break. “See if you have a message from Dane that you missed earlier.”

She checked. There was none.

“This smells rotten,” Cutter said. “Surely Dane’s gone to pick up his daughter by now and heard that she left with you. Or is the day-care center open all night?”

“No, the last pickup is seven o’clock sharp. Not complying can get you replaced with another child from their waiting list. I’ve had to pick up Julie before when Amy was tied up and Dane was working. That’s why I’m on the emergency contact list.”

“Being on the list doesn’t mean Dane doesn’t have an APB out on you by now. I’ll call Goose. He’ll know where to go from here. By the way, did you have any idea your ex was involved in tax fraud?”

“Not a clue, but I’m not surprised. Al’s whole life was about acquiring and spending money. The pending charges may explain why we still don’t have a property settlement, though. He may think he’s going to need his ready assets for attorney fees.”

“You’ve been divorced two years and you still don’t have a property settlement?”

“We’ve been separated two years, divorced one. My attorney says we’re close to a property settlement, or at least we were before this came up.”

“Okay. Forget Al for now. I’ll call Goose. Stay calm this time. You know it’s the only sensible thing to do.”

And just like that, Cutter was taking over, calling the shots and ignoring the fact that he was helping a man get away with murder. And it wasn’t as if she were putting Julie in danger.

A plan started taking shape in Linney’s mind. Not perfect, but better than seeing Amy’s killer live to abuse and kill again.

This one’s for you, Amy. If you have any influence up there, try to keep me out of jail, will you?

“GUESS IT’S TIME for Julie and me to hit the road.”

Cutter looked up as Linney came back from the bedroom where she’d gone to check on Julie. She’d freshened up a bit, put on some lipstick and returned the escaping tendrils of red hair to the clasp at the nape of her neck.

“I’d like to go with you,” he said.

“No. I made a mistake in coming here, but I’m not going to compound that by involving you any more than I already have.”

“You’re in good hands with Goose.”

“So he says. He’s meeting me at the precinct. I’ll give him a statement of my suspicions about the drowning not having been an accident and he’ll go with me to take Julie home unless he’s gotten in touch with Dane by then. If so, he’ll have Dane pick her up. Either way, if there’s any confrontation between Dane and me, it will all be a case of police record.”

“Goose means it when he says he’ll follow up with the GHPD on your suspicions of murder.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“But you’re not convinced that it will do any good?”

“Green’s Harbor is out of his jurisdiction.”

Which could be why Cutter had this sinking feeling that he’d let Linney down. “I’ll carry Julie to the car for you.”

“Thanks. She’s heavier than she looks, but try not to wake her. I’d rather she remain asleep until I get her home.”

Cutter tried to be gentle, but he had no experience with kids. Julie’s head rolled and then settled against his chest. He felt an unexplained tightness. Poor kid. She’d lost her mother. Now her only parent was a man Linney was convinced was a murderer.

Holding Julie like this, he could almost understand Linney’s determination to see justice done. But having Linney go to prison for kidnapping was not the way to do it.

Linney led the way to her car, a silver BMW sports convertible that was waiting in a visitor’s slot on the third floor of the parking garage.

“Nice wheels.”

“A present from Al just before I left.”

He’d love to know more about that breakup, or maybe he wouldn’t.

Linney opened the back door and he placed Julie inside, fastening the seat belt around her. She squirmed and then let her head drop to the cushioned headrest of her booster seat without ever opening her eyes.

Cutter shut the back door and walked around to the driver’s door. It was standing open, though Linney was already behind the wheel and fitting the key into the ignition.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind about my going with you?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, Cutter. You know, you really should visit your aunt Merlee more. And get some groceries in your house.”

He leaned in to kiss her good-bye. Not smart, but he wasn’t feeling particularly smart right now. She turned so that his lips brushed her cheek as she shifted into Reverse. Not a lot left for him to do except close the door and watch her drive off.

He did, then slumped against the back bumper of the red pickup truck that was parked right behind him. She waved and smiled as she turned toward the exit, then gunned the engine and took off.

Feeling emptier than he’d felt since leaving the service, Cutter started back to the elevator of the parking garage, then decided to take the stairs to his fourth-floor condo. Before the accident, he would have run them. He’d be able to again soon, but never with the speed and agility he’d had when his body had been at its peak of performance.

The metal steps rattled on impact, the sound echoing around him as he ascended the lighted stairwell. The sound took him back. The clanking became Russian-made tanks in the distance rattling their way toward him and his team.

They’d been on a rescue mission, one that sane men would have called off when that kid had spotted them in the heavily forested terrain and took off running. One kid was all it took to alert a small army of the Taliban’s men.

They could have stopped him with a bullet. Not one of them ever would have. He was just a kid.

But they were not leaving their captured buddy in the hands of the enemy. It was against the code of the SEALs and everything they lived by.

Linney must feel a similar commitment to get justice for her friend Amy. He knew she wasn’t convinced that Goose could make that happen. Yet she hadn’t seemed that upset when she’d driven off, certainly not as irate as she’d been when he’d first insisted it was the right thing to do.

Cutter came to a screeching halt. What the hell had he been thinking? Linney wasn’t going to meet Goose. She was on the run again. It was an idiotic act that would likely land her in prison for the best part of her life.

Cutter spun around and raced back to the garage, this time to his parking spot. He burned rubber in his haste to exit. Not surprisingly, there was no sign of Linney’s car by the time he pulled onto the side street that fronted his complex. She had at least a five-minute head start and that could put her anywhere.

He turned right at the corner, toward Interstate-10, the most probable escape route if you wanted to get out of town quickly. East would take him into downtown Houston. West would take him toward San Antonio.

Neither choice bode well for spotting her. The traffic on I-10 was always crowded with eighteen-wheelers and gas-guzzling SUVs. Her low-slung sports car would be difficult to spot among them.

Not that it was a sure bet she’d taken the freeway. She could have decided to stay on back roads. There were dozens of possibilities there.

The traffic light at the corner switched from yellow to red. Cutter slowed, then spotted a car exactly like Linney’s pulling out of a service station on the opposite corner.

He waited for the traffic to clear the intersection, then sped through the red light and passed two cars on the right to put him almost directly behind Linney as she turned onto the entrance ramp to I-10, going west, not toward the precinct where she was supposed to give a statement to Goose.

She accelerated, switching lanes quickly, jumping right in between two speeding vehicles. He kept her in sight until some jerk with a suicide wish cut right in front of him on his Harley. Stamping on the brake and swerving to the right, Cutter just managed to keep from colliding with the biker and the babe clinging to him like plaster.

Kidnapping Julie was a crazy stunt. Impulsive. Irresponsible. Coming to him tonight had probably been just as crazy, but then he seriously doubted that Linney had spent six years trying to get over their five nights of fun and games and sexual fireworks.

Cutter had grown up fast in Afghanistan and Iraq, learned the difference between instinct and impulse, discovered how one misstep could cost a life. He knew to pick his battles wisely. At least he thought he had until Linney had shown up and in trouble.

Linney switched lanes again, this time two at a time. She was going to exit, a sudden decision, he guessed. The car behind her switched lanes as well. There was no siren or flashing lights, but Cutter had a strong hunch that the nondescript black sedan held an undercover cop.

Linney pulled into the exit lane. The car behind her stayed on her tail. Cutter swerved in front of a pickup truck and exited a couple of cars behind the sedan.

Linney turned right at the first traffic light. The sedan pulled into a service station. Cutter breathed a little easier. He was certain it would go better for Linney if she returned Julie before there was any police confrontation.

She took a quick left, crossing a set of railroad tracks and turning onto a road that ran beside it. The area grew instantly darker as they left the illumination of streetlights.

A tall fence dominated the side of the road nearest the tracks. There were scattered businesses on the other side. A machine shop. A brake and muffler repair center. A white brick building with a sign promising the best prices in Texas on body work. All closed.

Theirs were the only two cars on the isolated road, and he seriously doubted that Linney had a clue where she was going. He increased his speed, narrowing the space between them as she rounded a curve.

He’d pull up next to her and let her know he was onto her scheme. Maybe she was having second thoughts. With luck, she’d be nervous on this dark road and desperate enough by now that she’d stop and listen to reason.

No such luck. Linney accelerated, leaving him behind. He’d spooked her by getting so close and now she was driving dangerously fast.

Cutter caught a glimpse of movement ahead, then watched a car that resembled the same dark sedan that he’d thought was tailing Linney on the freeway. It pulled out from a deserted lot and onto the road in front of Linney.

The car was driving slow and inching toward the center of the road, straight at Linney. She slowed and headed for the shoulder to avoid a collision if he swerved too far into her lane.

Cutter’s apprehension swelled. If the driver of the approaching car kept coming at the same angle, he’d swipe the side of Linney’s car—or worse. The car kept coming, but now the barrel of what appeared to be a machine gun jutted from the window.

Son of a bitch. This was a setup. The man was going to gun her down and there was no time to stop him.

In seconds, she’d be dead.