by Sharon Sala
Erin shuddered, heard the hurried footsteps coming down the seventh floor corridor, and rushed to open the Exit door.
“In here!” she called, and held the door open for the paramedics to pass with their equipment.
“Can you hear me, miss?” the EMT called aloud, as he made a quick but thorough examination of the young woman who’d suffered the fall.
She was beginning to regain consciousness, and they had to complete their initial examination quickly. He had to immobilize her before she moved and caused herself possible permanent injury. A cervical collar was placed around her neck and a long spine board was carefully slipped beneath her before the move was made to a stretcher where she was then strapped safely in place.
“What?” Honor mumbled, as she struggled through pain and darkness that kept pulling her back into its grasp.
“You’ve had an accident,” J. J. said, as he began to walk beside her stretcher. The paramedics were wheeling her toward the elevator that would take her down to the waiting ambulance. “Don’t worry, Meg-gie,” he whispered brokenly, awkwardly patting at her strapped arm. “I’m right here beside you.”
Honor felt the pain returning full force, and with it the memory of what had preceded. She opened her eyes to see the bright fluorescent lights overhead, flowing into one long continuous stream of yellow as the stretcher moved on silent wheels quickly down the corridor leading toward the elevator. She saw her aunt’s worried expression as she ran to keep up with the movement of the paramedics. Honor focused on the guilt she knew she would see in those nervous, darting eyes and spoke as they all came to a stop at the elevator.
“I’m not Meggie,” Honor said through tightly clenched lips and ignored the look of pain on her grandfather’s face. Her gaze turned toward her aunt. She spoke softly, her words for Erin Malone only. “And it was no accident.”
* * *
X-rays revealed no broken bones, nor permanent injuries of any kind. But she knew before the doctors ever told her that she was going to hurt like hell. There wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t ache, or a muscle that didn’t cramp. The fall had been hard, but the lesson Honor learned even harder. She was a fighter all right, but she was no fool. She knew her aunt had seen whoever had pushed her. Honor wasn’t convinced that Erin had known it was going to happen. She could still remember the look of surprise on her aunt’s face. She also saw it turn to horror just before she fell. But she didn’t care whether Erin had instigated it or not. She obviously hadn’t said anything to her father about the incident, and her silence was good enough for Honor. If her presence in Colorado was all that threatening, they could have their life back just the way they wanted.
Honor leaned over, winced, and moaned aloud as pain shot through her body all the way to the top of her head. She stifled the cry, then reached for the telephone and pulled it into her lap. She blinked from the pain, thought for the few seconds it took to recall the number, and then made her call.
The man answered on the second ring, and Honor spoke before he had finished identifying himself.
“Uncle Rusty,” she whispered as she began to cry. “Will you come get me?”
His shocked response to her condition and quick assurance were what she needed to hear. He was on his way out of the door before Honor could tell him good-bye.
Honor disconnected, painfully set the phone back in place on the bedside table, and turned her head into the pillow. The tears that had flowed so freely while talking to her beloved Rusty had stopped and frozen around the building pain inside her chest.
She was being rescued, but not by the man she’d expected to help her through the mess he’d brought her into. Trace Logan had promised he’d be with her every step of the way. He’d taken her to bed and taken her love, and left with promises he hadn’t kept. There’d been no calls, no letter, no nothing. Honor stifled the betrayal she felt and told herself it didn’t matter. She should have known better. The door opened, and Honor knew without looking who had just entered.
“How are you feeling, dear?” J. J. asked, careful not to slip and call her Meggie. It had obviously angered her beyond his understanding.
“I’m alive,” Honor muttered, and stared blankly at Erin who stood quietly beside her father, beseeching Honor with some strange, silent plea not to tell what had happened.
“Your Uncle Andrew is on his way over,” J. J. said, trying to instill some measure of civility back into this obviously hostile conversation. Her anger puzzled and frightened him.
“I don’t need a priest,” Honor said angrily. “I just need to go home.”
“And you shall,” J. J. responded, relieved by her request. “But the doctor insists that you spend the night for safety’s sake. We wouldn’t want you to suffer any unforeseen consequences.”
“I’ve already suffered the consequences,” Honor snapped, and then winced at the pain it caused when she’d raised her voice. “I don’t intend to do it again. I’m going home,” she repeated. “But not back with you. I’m going home to Odessa. My Uncle Rusty is already on his way. I’ve had just about all the welcome I can take from the Malones. I don’t need any more.”
“I don’t understand,” J. J. said, shocked beyond words at her anger. They’d been on such good terms before this incident.
“I know you don’t,” Honor said, suddenly weary of talking, weary of looking into the faces of strangers. She wished she’d never heard of the Malones or Colorado. For the first time since her mother’s death she was bitterly angry. Angry at Charlotte O’Brien for dying and starting this nightmare, angry at Trace Logan for finding her, loving her, and making promises he didn’t keep, angry at being born into a family such as this. “If you want answers, talk to your daughter. I don’t intend to talk about this again.”
J. J. looked startled and then turned angrily toward Erin.
“Come with me,” he ordered. “This discussion will not take place in front of Honor. She’s suffered enough at our hands.”
Then he turned with a heavy heart, looked at Honor’s angry face, and knew it was over. His chance to regain his granddaughter had just resulted in not only losing her, but from what Honor had just implied, at the hands of his own daughter. If she had any connection to what had just happened, he couldn’t bear to think of the implications this created.
Honor watched them leave, listened to the door click as the latch slipped into place, and hardened her heart against the pain. She didn’t need them.
Chapter 9
The elation Trace felt when his plane landed in Colorado Springs quickly disappeared when he entered his office and saw the expression on Irene’s face. Something was very wrong and he had a sinking sensation that Honor was involved.
“Where’s Honor?” he asked sharply, and felt his stomach pitch as Irene grabbed at a tissue and started to cry.
“Gone!” she answered. “It was just terrible. One minute she was fine, the next she’d fallen to the bottom of the stairs.” She dabbed at her eyes, and then pulled another tissue from the box on her desk.
“She fell down what stairs?” he asked, trying to make sense of his secretary’s hysterics and not give in to the panic he felt at her words.
“The stairs here in the building,” Irene mumbled from under her wad of tissues. “It was just fortunate that Miss Malone saw it happen and called for help.”
“Erin Malone was present?’ Trace asked quietly, as a foreboding began to enter his jumbled thoughts.
“Oh, yes!” Irene repeated. “And she called Mr. Malone right after she summoned the paramedics. They took Honor away in an ambulance, and then this morning when Mr. Malone came to work, he was so sad. He said that Honor was gone, that he’d lost her for good.” Irene sniffed, and blew her nose. “I don’t know quite what he meant by that, but he was very withdrawn and told me to hold all his calls.”
Trace absorbed the information with building panic and fury. He knew he shouldn’t have gone away and left Honor here to fend for herself. Some inst
inct had warned him that something like this might happen. He’d put his job and his so-called duty to J. J. Malone ahead of his feelings for Honor, and this was what had happened. He’d let Honor down, when he’d promised just the opposite. But why hadn’t she called? The hurt that came with that question was more than he could bear.
A slow-burning rage began to build inside his chest. He looked up as the door to J. J.’s office opened and the older man stepped out. Trace couldn’t mask his shock. J. J. looked as if he’d aged ten years in the last five days.
“What in hell happened while I was gone?” Trace growled, ignoring the pain and suffering on his boss’s face.
‘She’s gone, boy,” J. J. whispered, and ran a shaky hand across his eyes. “She’s gone and it’s all this damned family’s fault.”
Trace absorbed J. J.’s words and drew his own conclusions. By the expression of guilt on J. J.’s face, they were obviously correct as he asked, “It was more of Erin’s doing, wasn’t it?”
“I’m not sure,” J. J. replied. “I’ve never seen her like this. She acts scared, but she won’t talk. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I sure as hell do,” Trace muttered, then dropped his coat and briefcase. He started out of the room with a look of grim determination on his face.
“Now, listen here…” J. J. began, when Trace interrupted.
“No, you listen,” he said. “I’m going to find out just what happened to Honor. I’m the one who talked her into coming back here in the first place. I promised to help her, and all I did was leave her to the wolves. Dammit, J. J., she means everything to me. If Erin is the key to the answers I need, she’s going to tell me what I want to know, and I don’t care what it takes to make her talk. Do you understand me? If you aren’t ready to accept that, then you can fire me.”
J. J. stood silently, his position as boss and Erin’s father warring with the understanding of Trace’s desperation. And it was obvious from the way Trace was acting that more had developed between them than friendship.
Trace turned his back on his boss and walked out of the office. Someone had hurt the woman he loved, and someone was going to pay. He stalked through the reception area and into her office without waiting to be announced.
Erin looked up, exasperation turning to panic as she saw Trace barging through her door. The people sitting around the conference table looked on in shock, waiting for Erin’s explosion. It never came.
Trace ignored everyone else in the room as he focused entirely on Erin’s pale face and the fear in her eyes.
“Get out,” he ordered quietly, speaking to the others.
“What’s the meaning of this?” one of the men began to argue.
“I said, get out!” Trace repeated, and when he spoke, stepped aside and motioned with his hand for them to exit now.
Something told them this was not the time or the place to argue. They filed out quickly, darting curious looks at the angry man and the panic-stricken woman they were leaving behind.
“You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Trace whispered as he walked to where Erin was sitting and leaned over, blocking her exit by placing a hand on either arm of the chair.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she began, when his look silenced her next words and nearly stopped her breath.
“Yes, you do, you bitch. I can’t believe you’d do this to your own family. Even I didn’t think you were capable of this.” He watched the panic spreading in her eyes as she sat frozen in position, afraid to move or speak. “I want to know about Honor’s fall. And I’ll know if you’re lying to me, woman. So don’t try it.”
J. J. slipped quietly into his daughter’s office, listening with a heavy heart as Trace forced the information from Erin that his own pleas had been unable to elicit.
Trace saw something in her eyes that surprised him. Erin Malone looked like she was about to come unglued. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?” he said, and then wondered where that question had come from. He hadn’t known he was going to ask it.
Suddenly Erin began to shake. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, as if holding herself together to keep from flying apart. Her eyes filled and her breath came in short, aching gasps. How had this gotten so out of hand? She’d never meant for any of it to happen. It wasn’t her fault. Not this. She began to sob.
“I didn’t know he was going to do it,” Erin mumbled and swallowed hard before she continued. “I swear I didn’t. I was beginning to like her. If you don’t believe me, ask Father. We had dinner together. I apologized about the newsmen. I didn’t know he was going to do it,” she repeated incoherently and started to slide downward in her chair.
Trace yanked her hard and sat her upright. He wasn’t ready for her to fold on him yet. What she’d just said made his blood run cold. God in heaven, his instincts had been right. It hadn’t been an accident.
“Who did it, Erin?” Trace growled and shook her sharply. The expression in her eyes told him what she could not. “It was Hastings, wasn’t it?” he whispered quietly.
“I saw him step through the door behind her. I thought he was looking for me. I started to speak when he just stepped up behind her and pushed. She fell.” Her voice quavered and then became so faint Trace had to lean over to hear the rest of her statement. “It seemed to take forever for her to fall. I tried to catch her, but I couldn’t get up the steps fast enough.” Her breath came in short, loud gulps as she continued her story. “Then when she’d stopped falling, he just stood at the top of the stairs and stared at me.” Erin began to mumble and grabbed at Trace’s arms to emphasize her point. “It was as if he was warning me not to tell. He scared me. I didn’t want him to hurt her. I swear to God, I didn’t.”
Trace stepped back from Erin, looking at her as if she were a stranger. “You mean you saw him push her and didn’t say a thing to anyone? You just let him get away with it?”
“Erin!” J. J.’s shocked tone of voice echoed in the waiting silence of the room. “Why in the name of all that’s holy didn’t you say something? No wonder Honor was so bitter. She knows you kept silent on purpose. Damn you, girl, I don’t blame her. I don’t blame her one bit.” His voice was loud and shaking. He stalked toward his daughter and she shrank back in fright.
There had to be more to this incident than Hastings Lawrence just trying to stay on the good side of his reluctant fiancée. Trace stopped J. J. with a look. “I want to know what Hastings Lawrence has to lose by Honor’s existence.”
His question surprised both father and daughter, and each looked at the other in blank dismay. Finally, Erin spoke hesitantly. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
J. J. interrupted. “I think I do. You remember the first night Honor came to us, after dinner when she’d gone to make her phone call?” He looked to Trace to remind him of the sequence of events that night. When Trace nodded, he continued. “I asked Hastings to begin an audit so that I could make some changes in my will. Maybe he thought Erin wouldn’t get as much as he’d hoped. I’ve suspected for years that her money was a good portion of his supposed devotion.”
Erin looked furiously at her father, angry beyond words that J. J. would even voice such a suspicion.
A knowing expression appeared in Trace’s dark eyes as he spoke. “There’s been no order given for an audit. I would have known, even before I left. It always goes through me, remember?”
J. J. looked stunned. “But I told him nearly two weeks ago. There’s no reason why it hasn’t been initiated in that length of time.”
“What if it was the audit that started all of this and not the actual update of your will? What if he thought that by making her angry enough to leave you would decide not to change your will and there would be no need for an audit?” Trace asked.
Erin began to argue. Her fear was overridden by the ridiculous notion that Hastings would worry about company audits.
“That’s preposterous,” she muttered. “Hastings had nothing to hide. And besid
es, he was in Legal, not Accounting. He didn’t have access to the monies. At any rate, he doesn’t need it. He always has plenty of his own.”
“My point exactly. And maybe it isn’t the actual company money he’s worried about,” Trace said. “He has access to everything your father owns. J. J., I suggest you do some checking on your own and order the audit immediately. I’ve got another plane to catch, and this time I just may not be back. As for Hastings Lawrence, you either bring charges against him…or I’ll deal with him my own way.”
His threat left nothing to the imagination as he glared at the pair who stood in stunned silence, too shocked to argue with his ultimatum.
* * *
Honor paced the darkened living room of her home, unable to bring herself to turn on any lights, not even a table lamp. She knew hiding wasn’t going to solve her problems, but for the time being it made her feel better. It was all she was capable of doing. And she was home! Being cared for by people who loved her was reassuring, and here she was safe.
Rusty Dawson had seen to that when he’d arrived in Colorado Springs and quickly hustled her from the hospital. He’d taken it upon himself to retrieve her belongings from the Malone estate. He’d wasted no words on preliminary introductions or etiquette, nor had he minced words about his opinion of the Malones in general.
J. J. Malone could not argue with the truth, no matter how painful, and had quietly assisted the angry little truck driver. Then he watched with brooding sadness as the last remnants of his granddaughter’s fleeting presence disappeared with Russell Dawson.