Читать книгу 24 Karat Ammunition - Joanna Wayne - Страница 9

Chapter Four

Trish had been totally unnerved before Langston arrived on the scene. Now it was worse. Langston wasn’t the same youthful, high-flying college guy he’d been that hot, sultry summer in Houston. She wasn’t the same naively optimistic woman she’d been. Still, the past seemed to dominate the situation and sensual tension charged the air.

Langston leaned against the kitchen counter, his piercing, dark eyes boring into hers. “Tell me about the carjacking.”

Trish pulled a sprig of pine straw from her hair, dropped to one of the worn kitchen chairs and propped her elbows on the table. “I’d gone to lunch with one of the sales reps from my favorite jewelry line, but had taken my own car so I could stop by the drugstore on the way back to the boutique. I was still buckling up when some guy opened the passenger side door and jumped in.”

“Buck Rivers.”

“Right. How did you know that?”

“A friend told me, but that’s about all I know. The guy must have been watching you when you exited the restaurant.”

“I guess, but I didn’t see him. If I had, I wouldn’t have thought anything about it. The parking lot was crowded and it was the middle of the day. And he was just a normal-looking guy—except for the pistol he pointed at my head.”

“Go on.”

“He was yelling at me to drive faster and ordering me when and where to turn. At first I thought he was just desperate to get somewhere and thought he might actually let me go after that. Once he forced me to turn on a deserted back road, I got a lot more worried.”

“Did he act as if he knew you?”

“He just referred to me as a rich bitch. When he told me to stop, I panicked and hit the gas instead. He tried to kick my foot off the accelerator. That’s when we left the blacktop. We were headed right for a bridge. I hit the ravine just before I hit the railing.”

Langston joined her at the table. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

She looked up and let her eyes meet his. His gaze was still piercing, but shadowed now. She dropped her eyes and focused on his hands. No longer the hands of a rancher, she noticed. They were smooth. And there was no wedding ring on his left hand. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t let it.

“I wasn’t hurt in the wreck other than sore muscles and a few bruises. The carjacker didn’t have on his seat belt and was knocked out when his head hit the side window. A car pulled up and stopped on the side of the road. I thought he’d just happened by and saw the wreck, but it was an off-duty detective.”

“Gary Packard.”

She nodded. “He said he’d seen us speeding recklessly down the exit ramp when we left the highway. He thought I was drunk, then got close enough that he recognized my abductor as someone he’d questioned before.”

“So he followed you?”

“Right, but he didn’t see the pistol pressing into my rib cage and didn’t realize I’d been abducted. He just wanted to see what we were up to.”

“How did he come to kill Rivers instead of arresting him?”

“Buck Rivers came to while I was explaining the situation to the detective. He took off running and Detective Packard gave chase. I ran to the car, retrieved my cell phone from my handbag and made a 9-1-1 call. When I heard gunfire, I panicked again and hid in the woods until a state trooper responding to my call showed up.”

“So you didn’t see the shootout?”

“No. The detective came wandering out of the woods after the trooper arrived. He said he’d shot the carjacker in self-defense.”

“How did you go from saved by a cop to thinking he is trying to take you out?”

“I’d like to know that myself. We hung around for a long time while the detective and the trooper searched the area. I guess they were looking for clues. Then when I refused to go to the hospital, the detective drove me back into town, asking questions the whole way. I had the feeling even then that he didn’t really believe I was a random victim.”

“Meaning?”

“I think he still thought I might have willingly been with Rivers. But he let it go and dropped me off at the car rental agency to get a replacement vehicle. He said mine would be towed, impounded and searched for clues even though the detective had spent a lot of time searching it while we were at the scene.”

“What kind of clues? They already knew who abducted you and he was dead.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t argue with him. I was still in shock at that point and just glad it was over. At least I thought it was over. Turned out I was badly mistaken. I got a phone call the next day demanding I return the video that Buck Rivers had left with me. When I told the caller I didn’t have it, he called me a few obscene names and said if I was lying, I was dead.”

“Did the caller give his name?”

“No. But when he first called I would have sworn I was talking to Detective Packard, but that he had a cold or something.”

“What did you do?”

“I called Packard and told him about it. Then he questioned me about having a video. I’m not sure he believed that I didn’t. But then he blew the whole thing off and said if there was no video then it was probably a crank call and that I should ignore it unless I heard from the man again. I didn’t hear from him so I thought I was home-free.”

“And then someone broke into your house last night.”

“Selena told you?”

“No, I went to your place first. It’s trashed.”

“My house is trashed?”

“Didn’t you know?”

“No. I left rather quickly after I rammed a screwdriver into the intruder’s face.”

“Keep talking.”

She explained the situation as best she could. It had all happened so fast that she was short of facts.

“Why didn’t you call the cops once you got away instead of coming here to hide out?”

She hesitated. Selena had thought she was paranoid. Langston would likely think she was plain crazy, but… “I think Gary Packard was the man who broke in my house.”

“You couldn’t tell?”

“He was wearing a ski mask. Look, I know this sounds crazy, but when I saw the intruder, I thought it was the detective. He had the same build, the same voice, but more gruff—like he was trying to disguise it, the same as the man had sounded on the phone.”

“You can’t just accuse a cop of trying to kill you, Trish.”

“I know that.” Her frustration level skyrocketed. “But I can’t ignore all my instincts, either.”

Langston nodded and pushed back from the table. “It’s too late to try to figure this out tonight, but I’ll make a few calls and get some men on it first thing in the morning.”

“There’s no reason for you to get involved in this, Langston.”

“You asked for my help.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You sent Gina to me.”

“I was hoping you’d keep her safe while I got this figured out. I didn’t mean for you to come looking for me.”

He stood as if the conversation were finished. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Langston, you really don’t have to get involved. I’m handling this.”

“You’re hiding in the woods. That was a wise escape plan. It’s not a solution.”

He’d been cocky at nineteen. He was downright bossy now. But he was right, She didn’t have a plan and had no clue how to come up with one. She’d faced a lot in her life, but at least before, the cops had been the good guys.

He looked about the cabin. “Is there anything around here to eat?”

“Apples and potato chips that I picked up when I stopped to get gas. Fortunately, I got out of the house with my purse. That was it, except for the clothes I had on and my keys.”

“Which makes me doubly glad I raided Mom’s refrigerator before I left.” Langston took his cell phone from the leather holder at his waist and tossed it to her. “Call your daughter and tell her you’re safe while I get the groceries out of the car. She’s worried sick about you.”

“I’ve already tried to use my cell phone. There’s no service out here.”

“Mine’s satellite. It will work. The number’s programmed in under Mom.”

Mom. Jack’s Bluff. Names Trish remembered from years ago. The Collingsworths were a strong Texas family with wealth and political influence. That was Langston’s reality.

And if she let him into her life, if he found out the truth about her and her past, that reality might become her destruction. So no matter how tempting it might be to let him come to her rescue, it was a risk she couldn’t afford.

IT WAS TEN AFTER TWO in the morning, and Langston was yet to close his eyes or even to lie down. He really wanted to believe Trish, but her story was full of serious holes. The biggest was how this mystery video was supposed to have fallen into her hands. Did the cop, or whoever had trashed her house, think that the carjacker had hidden it in her car before he dashed into the woods never to return again? Not likely. And even if he had, the car wasn’t in her possession. It had been towed away from the scene and impounded by the police.

He had to consider the possibility that Trish knew more than she was saying and that she might be lying about her relation—or lack of one—with Buck Rivers. His cell phone rang and he jumped to get it before it woke Trish. He whispered a hello.

“Langston, are you okay?”

Celeste. Damn. He was supposed to have called her hours ago. He stepped out on the front porch so that he could talk at normal volume. “I’m fine.”

“I was worried sick about you. Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I was tied up, and then it was too late. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“What’s going on with that Trish person?”

That Trish person. She said it as if it was some kind of annoyance, like bad breath or a flat tire. He wished he’d never even mentioned Trish’s name to her, but he’d owed her an explanation for running out on her tonight. He hadn’t mentioned that Trish was an old girlfriend. He wasn’t sure why except that it had been so long ago.

“If there’s even a chance she’s been abducted, you should call the police and let them handle it,” Celeste urged.

“She wasn’t abducted.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve located her.”

“Then why did she send her daughter to you?”

“It’s a long story, Celeste, and I’m dead-tired. I’ll call you in the morning and give you a full update.”

“Okay, but I still don’t see why you went rushing off to Dallas just because some kid yelled wolf. It’s probably just a scam to get money out of you.”

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Not too early. I may sleep in. The dinner party didn’t break up until nearly midnight. Melvin was nice enough to fill in for you at the last minute, and he and I went out for drinks after that. Just call when you get to the office.”

Thank goodness for Melvin. Not only was he Langston’s most valued VP at the company, but he was also always willing to pinch-hit when Langston couldn’t make one of Celeste’s social events. That was more than his brothers would do.

“I won’t call too early,” he promised. They said their goodnights and Langston broke the connection. Tired as he was, he didn’t go back inside. Instead he stood on the edge of the narrow porch and stared into the shadows that played around the cabin.

He wasn’t sure of the real answer to Celeste’s question about why he’d come running to Dallas but he was glad he had. He’d always needed closure with Trish. Hopefully this would provide it, and he could finally get past the memories of that summer and the two of them reveling in their exploding hormones and thinking it was the real thing.

Sure, he’d had a brief relapse tonight, but that was just the memories and seeing her again after so long a time. He’d see Trish through this, and then he’d go on with his life without a backward glance.

He went back into the house and into the hall to get a pillow from the closet. He passed the bedroom where she was sleeping and hesitated, his senses suddenly intoxicated by her presence. He listened to her breathing and imagined her head resting on the pillow, her hair disheveled with the curls dancing about her cheeks.

He took a deep breath and stepped away. Tomorrow he’d be fine.

Tonight, the memories held sway.

SELENA ARRIVED AT THE BOUTIQUE at six minutes before nine the next morning, though it didn’t open until ten and she’d stayed late to do paperwork last night. Her boyfriend’s truck was in the shop and she had to drive him to work for eight-thirty. Once she was out, she figured she may as well go to work herself.

Selena went back to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Once the brew was dripping, she made a quick tour of the shop, checking each room to make sure it was ready for business. She saved the blue room for last. It was her favorite. The furnishings were the same type of beautiful antiques as in the rest of the cottage, but it was in the style of a privileged lady’s boudoir.

Selena never tired of laying the silky lingerie across the huge four-poster bed or displaying it in the magnificent, mahogany wardrobe. Not to mention that the white lace and satin bridal set she’d hung next to the eighteenth century washstand practically made her mouth water.

When she and Enrico married, she planned to wear one like that on her honeymoon. Then no matter how many times they’d made love before, she’d feel like a princess bride. She knew he loved her, but he wanted to save money for a down payment on a house before they set the date. But it would be soon. His bank account was growing fast.

Today, even thinking about that didn’t lift her troubled spirits. She started back to the business office, then paused when she thought she heard someone in the front room of the shop.

Just her jagged nerves, she decided, since even during business hours the doors to the outside stayed locked. Customers rang the doorbell as if entering the house of a friend. Trish claimed that was part of the boutique’s charm and made it feel far more exclusive.

Selena dropped to the computer and pulled up the list of customers to be notified that the new shipment of Jimmy Choo shoes was going on display August fourth. But there was that noise again, only closer. She spun around in the chair as the man stepped into the doorway behind her, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other behind his back.

“Nice little setup you’ve got here.”

“Who are you? How did you get in?”

“I came by to do some shopping. Where’s Trish?”

Oh, no! Fear settled like red-hot coals in her chest. She reached for the button beneath her desk that sent a silent alarm to the police, turning her body so that he wouldn’t see her fingers. “Trish isn’t here.”

“I can see that. Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“I kind of think you might.” He pulled the hand from behind his back and pointed the barrel of a stubby black pistol at her head. “Where’s Trish?”

Her stomach rolled and Selena tried to swallow through the hard, dry crust that her throat had become. “I told you I don’t know where she is.” Her words were so shaky she wasn’t even sure they were intelligible.

He inched closer, his hand steady and his finger sliding to the trigger. “I’m counting to three. If you don’t happen to remember by then where I can find your boss lady, you won’t be remembering anything ever again. And if you lie to me, I’ll track you down and yank your heart out through your throat.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“One.”

She didn’t want to die. She wanted to wear the beautiful bridal lingerie. Wanted to marry Enrico. Wanted to have his children. “This is about that video isn’t it? Trish doesn’t have your stupid video.”

“Two.”

She heard a siren. The cops were on the way.

“Three.”

LANGSTON’S CELL PHONE RANG at nine-thirty the next morning. The ID read Aidan Jefferies. Good. He knew he could count on his detective buddy to work quickly. “Any luck?”

“Some. Gary Packard’s got a clean record except for one count of domestic violence against his wife. That was ten years ago. They’ve divorced since.”

“What about Buck Rivers?”

“He’s been in Dallas for four years and has had several arrests—no convictions. He always seems to be around trouble, but there’s never any proof that he’s in it. He’s been working as a bouncer at one of the local gentleman’s clubs for the past six months. One of the dancers reported he’d beaten her up a month ago, but later recanted the charges. There’s probably a lot more on him, but that was all I could get with phone calls to the DPD. I’ll follow up, but I could fax that to you if you’d like hard copy.”

“We barely have indoor plumbing here.” He stepped outside the door so that Trish wouldn’t overhear his next question. “Did you get any information on Trish Cantrell?”

“She bought the Cottage Boutique five years ago after moving to the States from London. No police record. Not even an unpaid parking ticket. So are you heading back to Houston today?”

“That’s the plan. I’ll give you a call later.” He thanked Aidan again, broke the connection and went back inside.

Trish had showered and was dressed in the same clothes she’d had on last night. The shorts showed off her tan and terrific thighs and the pale pink T-shirt fit just snug enough to cup beneath her breasts. Her hair was still damp but curling about her cheeks.

He forced his gaze away. The close quarters were definitely getting to him. “I could use some breakfast,” he said.

“I still have an apple.”

“I’m thinking more like bacon and eggs.”

“I could go for that. I’m starved, and I actually got some sound sleep last night for the first time since the carjacking.”

“Good.”

“And I’ve made some decisions.” She propped her bottom on the arm of the faded sofa. “I’ll hire a private investigator to look into the mystery tape and a bodyguard to protect me until I know exactly who’s behind all of this.”

And just like that he’d be out of her life again. He should feel relieved, but his knee-jerk reaction felt more like a punch to the gut. “What about Gina?”

“I’ll hire a bodyguard for her, too. Now shall we go somewhere and find breakfast? I’d like to head back to Dallas as soon as possible.”

His cell phone ran. Aidan, again. He took the call.

“Breaking news,” Aidan said. “I just heard from a friend with the DPD that Selena Hernandez’s body was found minutes ago inside the Cottage Boutique. She was shot twice in the head at close range. A cop found her when he answered a silent alarm she’d apparently set off before she was shot.”

“Sonofabitch.”

“Yeah. Looks like Trish Cantrell is playing with some real sweet guys. I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear anything else.”

Langston was trying to decide how to break the news to Trish when his phone rang again. This time it was Celeste. He let it ring. She’d never understand why he was bringing an old girlfriend involved with a killer home with him.