by Gina Wilkins
Blake lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds like a plot from a Southern soap opera.”
Lucas didn’t smile. “Tell me about it.”
“So Nadine dumped Sam, married your father, then ran off with Sam’s brother.”
“Yeah.”
“Sam must have really hated Nadine after that.”
“I suppose. Even though Nadine was only a McBride by marriage, it all just added fuel to the feud in his bitter mind.”
“Sam has never married?”
“Twice,” Wade supplied. “Twice divorced. No kids.”
“How do you think he reacted when he found out Nadine was having an affair with his brother?”
“From what I’ve heard, no one knew about Al and Nadine until they disappeared together,” Lucas answered.
“And no one knew about you and Rachel,” Blake reminded him. “But Roger found out, anyway.”
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about the implications of Blake’s words. Sam’s was the first name that actually made some sense to Lucas. He had a motive—if jealousy and bruised ego could be seen as grounds for murder—and was much more likely to have lost his temper and, turned violent than the others on the short list.
He thought of his conversation with Rachel the night before. He hoped she’d paid attention when he’d suggested she stay away from her uncle. Or was Blake only making him paranoid?
“You don’t know where, exactly, Roger found the bracelet and wallet?” Blake asked Lucas, glancing at the woods around them.
“No. But I think it was somewhere in this area, in the vicinity of the rock shelter.”
Blake studied the landscape. “That way leads to the bluffs?”
“Yeah. It’s a thirty-foot drop to the creek.”
Blake nodded decisively. “You know the bluffs. You look in that area. I’ll take the section north of the rock building. Wade, you look south.”
Lucas lifted an eyebrow. “What are we looking for?”
“We’ll know it if we find it,” Blake replied with his own brand of logic.
“Blake, it’s been twenty-four years. And Chief Packer scoured this area when Roger took his dive, looking for evidence against me.”
“Then we’re probably wasting our time. But it beats watching football. Or going to a wedding shower.”
“I like football,” Wade muttered, but he walked away obligingly, his eyes trained on the ground.
Lucas sighed and headed for the bluffs.
LUCAS WALKED up to Rachel’s door just before 8:00 p.m. The back of his neck itched, making him feel as though dozens of eyes were watching him from behind curtains and window blinds. He hadn’t felt that way since he’d left this town.
He squared his shoulders and held his head high, telling himself he didn’t care if half of Honoria was watching him. He and Rachel had nothing to hide now.
Mindful that Rachel’s grandmother could already be sleeping, and expecting Rachel to be waiting for him, Lucas tapped lightly on the front door.
Over dinner, he’d decided, he would tell her about the search he, Blake and Wade had conducted all afternoon. It had netted them a few beer cans, a rusted belt buckle that could have belonged to anyone, a broken flashlight and... Blake’s discovery... a filthy lace bra. The undergarment hadn’t been there twenty-four years. A few months, at the most—proving that the gate hadn’t been as effective a deterrent against trespassers as whoever installed it had hoped.
They had found nothing that indicated a murder had ever taken place there. Lucas hadn’t really expected to find anything, of course. He had let his imagination carry him away, just as Roger’s had fifteen years ago.
Rachel would probably be amused by the whole story. Maybe.
So, where was she?
He tapped on the door again, a little louder this time.
The door flew suddenly open. “There you are. I’ve been...”
The frail-looking, elderly woman in the doorway stopped and stared at Lucas. “Who are you?”
Lucas cleared his throat. “I’m a—er—friend of Rachel’s. I’m here to take her to dinner.”
Jenny Holder’s faded blue eyes suddenly narrowed. She held her glasses higher on her nose and peered at him. “You’re the McBride boy!”
At thirty-five, it had been a while since Lucas had been called a boy. “Er...yes, ma’am. Lucas McBride.”
“And you’re here to take Rachel to dinner?”
“Yes. She’s expecting me.”
“She’s not here.”
Lucas frowned. “What do you mean? She told me to pick her up at eight.”
“She’s not here,” the woman repeated flatly. “I don’t know where she is.”
Several wild thoughts flashed through Lucas’s mind. The woman was lying, trying to keep him from Rachel. Or Rachel had left town without saying goodbye. Paying him back for doing the same to her—letting him know how it felt.
Wherever she had gone, he would find her.
He managed to get a grip on his imagination, which had been showing an uncharacteristic tendency to run away with him today. “You were expecting Rachel when you opened the door.”
The woman nodded her notably unsteady head. “I can’t imagine where she’s gone. I expected her hours ago. She told me she was going out tonight, but she said she’d be here to help me into bed first.”
“Are all her things still here?”
“Of course they are. She didn’t leave town. She just left to run some errands.”
“When was that?”
“Maybe four hours ago. She said she’d only be gone an hour or so.”
Lucas’s stomach had begun to clench. A chill slithered down his spine. “Mrs. Holder, do you know where Rachel went?”
“No. She just said something about some errands. Why was she going out to dinner with you, Mr. McBride? I didn’t realize you and my granddaughter even knew each other.”
“Yes, ma’am. We do.”
She studied him a moment longer. “Some people around town say you killed my grandson.”
“Those people are wrong.”
“I think a lot of your sister. She’s a nice girl. A real asset to this community.”
“She’s the best of the McBrides,” Lucas said simply. “Mrs. Holder, I’m worried about Rachel. If you have any idea where she might be...”
“I wish I did. I’m worried, too.”
“Will you be all right while I try to find her?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go find Rachel.”
“Lock your door,” Lucas ordered. “And wait by the phone. I’ll be checking in.”
He waited only until she had closed the door before he turned and dashed toward his car. He grabbed his car phone and dialed Emily’s number. Rachel would have called him, he told himself. Maybe she’d just been delayed somewhere...
“It’s Lucas,” he said when Emily answered, not even giving her a chance to speak. “Have you heard from Rachel?”
She seemed surprised by the question. “No. Was she supposed to call?”
His hopes sank. Something was wrong, damn it. And he needed help. “Is Wade there?”
“Yes, he...”
Too distracted to be polite, he interrupted her. “I need you to do something for me. Rachel’s grandmother is alone in her house and she needs someone with her. You know her friends. Her pastor, maybe. Will you call someone?”
“Of course. What’s...”
“I’ll explain later. Can you put Wade on now?”
A growing sense of urgency was driving Lucas. He wanted to find Rachel, and he wanted to find her now.
He hardly gave Wade a chance to identify himself before launching into an explanation.
Wade listened, then asked, “Where do you think she could have gone?”
“The last time I talked to her, she was considering going out to her uncle’s place—to look through her father’s things that are stored there.”
“Damn. But, Lucas, you can’t go out to Sam J
ennings’s place. He’s liable to shoot you on sight—whether he knows anything about Rachel or not.”
“That’s why I’m calling you. Will you meet me?”
“Where?”
Lucas named an intersection that was close to the tumoff to Sam’s place. “I’ll be waiting for you at the Exxon station there. Hurry.”
“All right. And, Lucas—wait for me. I don’t want you talking to Sam Jennings without me there. Remember, it’s possible he has no idea where Rachel is.”
“Just don’t take too long to get there.” Lucas ended the call and started his car.
HE REACHED the service station ahead of Wade, and sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, anxious to be on his way. He was giving Wade five minutes, he told himself, and then he was leaving without him.
He needed to find Rachel.
It wasn’t only his imagination making him worry now. Rachel had told him to pick her up at eight. Even if she’d stood him up—and he didn’t believe she would, no matter how he’d treated her in the past—she wouldn’t have given her grandmother cause to worry. She wouldn’t have been gone four hours without calling to check in.
Not if she was able to call.
That thought went straight to his gut. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to know if she was at her uncle’s house. If she wasn’t...well, he would deal with that fear when it was justified. He reached for the gearshift, then paused when a familiar dark Jeep turned into the service-station lot. The Jeep pulled up beside him, and the driver’s window lowered, revealing Wade and Blake inside.
Lucas lowered his own window. “It’s about time you got here.”
“I came as fast as I could. Blake showed up just as I was leaving and wanted to come along. He said he had a feeling something was going on.”
Lucas wasn’t discounting anyone’s “feelings” at the moment. He had a bad one of his own to deal with. “Let’s go,” he said.
Wade wasn’t letting Lucas out of his sight. “Leave your car parked here. We’ll take mine.”
Lucas grumbled, but turned off the engine, pocketed the keys and locked the doors. He didn’t like taking orders. But right now, his only concern was for Rachel.
Wade didn’t have to ask where Sam’s house was. He drove to it unerringly, pulling into the driveway and parking close to the front door. Lucas was out of the car almost before the engine died. Wade caught up with him, and insisted that Lucas let him go first.
No one answered when Wade rang the doorbell, Lucas and Blake hovering close behind him. There were a few lights burning inside, but the curtains were drawn. There was no way of knowing if anyone was inside.
Growing impatient, Lucas took a step backward. “I’m going to look around.”
Blake turned. “I’ll go with you.”
“Now, wait a minute, you two. We don’t have a warrant. We can’t just start searching Jennings’s property.”
Lucas didn’t slow down. “I’m not a cop.”
“No, you’re a trespasser. Lucas—”
Blake was right at Lucas’s shoulder as Lucas headed for the back of the house. Lucas heard Wade mutter something unintelligible and then he fell into step behind them.
Two storage buildings were secured with heavy padlocks.
“I could break those if I had a crowbar,” Lucas muttered.
“Don’t even think about it,” Wade warned him. “Maybe we should call Rachel’s house. See if she’s checked in yet.”
But Lucas was watching Blake, who was headed for the detached garage. A tiny penlight in his hand illuminated fresh tire tracks in the ground, which was still damp from the heavy rains of the past week.
Lucas frowned and followed the P.I.
The tire tracks indicated that a car had very recently been driven into the garage. The doors were locked. Lucas looked at Blake, who was studying the building intently. And then he glanced at Wade, who was wearing a resigned expression that seemed to indicate he knew he was either going to have to stay out of the way or arrest someone. Namely Lucas.
Lucas had seen that look before—usually justbefore Chief Packer had hauled him off the jail.
Without another word to his brother-in-law-to-be, Lucas turned and kicked in the side door to the garage.
He heard Wade’s curse, but he didn’t wait around to discuss the finer points of trespassing. He entered the building, snapping on the overhead light as he entered.
Three covered vehicles sat inside the garage. A stack of cardboard boxes were piled against one wall. An interior door was set into the back wall. Lucas tested that one, finding it locked.
There was no one inside the garage, no sign that Rachel had ever been there.
Nosing around, Blake pulled the cover off the vehicle nearest him, revealing a 1950s-era pickup truck. Moving slowly, as if he knew better but couldn’t resist, Wade uncovered the second vehicle, which turned out to be an orange two-seater. From where Lucas stood, he could see that the glove box hung open, and a pair of sunglasses lay on the passenger seat.
Turning to the third vehicle, Lucas took hold of the cover. He snapped it off with a flick of his wrist.
He stared at the vehicle he’d revealed, feeling as though someone had just hit him in the gut with a sledgehammer.
“Rachel’s?” Blake murmured.
Unable, for the moment, to speak, Lucas nodded, then looked at Wade. Why would Rachel’s car be hidden in Sam Jennings’s garage? And where was she? If anything had happened to her...
Just the thought of losing her devastated him.
A quick, muffled sound from behind the door at the back of the garage made him go still.
A moment later, he lifted his booted foot again and slammed it against the locked door. The lock broke with a loud crack, and the door flew inward. Someone tried to rush past Lucas. He reached out and caught the guy with one hand, slamming him up against the garage wall.
“Get the hell off my property,” Sam Jennings shouted, his florid face beet-red with fury and exertion. “Davenport, get this man away from me or be prepared to lose your badge.”
Lucas gathered Sam’s jacket in both hands and lifted him higher against the wall. “Tell me where Rachel is.”
“I don’t know what you’re...”
“That’s her car!” Lucas shouted into the man’s face. “Where is she?”
“Davenport!” Sam’s voice was strangled as he clawed at Lucas’s hands. “Call him off.”
“Damn it, Lucas.” Wade yanked at Lucas’s arm. “Let him go. I’ll question him.”
Lucas’s voice was cold and controlled when he spoke. “If he’s hurt Rachel, I’ll kill him.”
“Davenport!” Sam roared.
Lucas slammed the sweating man against the wall again. “God damn it, Jennings, where is she?”
“Could be you’ve caused her death, just as you did her brother’s,” Jennings snarled. There was pure hatred in his eyes as he glared up at the man who loomed so threateningly over him.
“I had nothing to do with Roger’s death,” Lucas answered, tightening his grip.
Jennings’s voice was thin from lack of oxygen when he replied, refusing to surrender. “It was because of you that he was snooping around into the past, into things that didn’t concern him. Because of you that Rachel was doing the same thing. You might as well have killed them both.”
“Lucas, he’s turning blue.” Wade pushed again against Lucas’s shoulders, trying to break his grip on the other man. “Let him go, or I’m going to have to arrest you.”
“If he’s done anything to Rachel, you’re going to have to shoot me to keep me from killing him.” Lucas’s voice was cold. Flat. Utterly sincere.
“Lucas.” Blake was still standing by Rachel’s car. “I think I heard something. From the trunk...”
Lucas almost threw Jennings at Wade, who staggered, but caught Sam, restraining him when he tried to break away.
The car trunk was locked, of course.
“Where’s the key
, Jennings?” Lucas threw over his shoulder.
Jennings growled an obscenity, struggling futilely as Wade quickly and efficiently cuffed him. “Get them off my property, Davenport. You haven’t got a warrant. You’ve got no cause to search my place.”
Blake looked across the locked trunk to Lucas. “We can get into the trunk by taking out the back seat.”
The doors to the vehicle were locked, as well.
Wade had already patted Jennings down. “No keys in his pockets,” he reported.
Lucas looked around for something to break out the window. He found a tire iron in the storage space behind the seat of the orange sports car. A moment later, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the garage.
Lucas unlocked both back doors of Rachel’s car, allowing him and Blake to lean in and start tugging at the loops built into the top of the back bench seat. It was the kind that folded down to extend the trunk space, allowing long items such as golf clubs to be hauled in the car. The seat opened to reveal a body crammed tightly in a fetal position in the narrow trunk space.
Lucas’s heart nearly stopped. Rachel wasn’t moving. At that moment, he felt his world crash in pieces around him.
He knew then that there would be no going on without her. Not this time.
Blake was already reaching in to ease Rachel out of the narrow space. Forcing himself out of his sick paralysis, Lucas helped him.
Her low, muffled moan was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
She was alive.
Very carefully, he and Blake pulled her out of the car and laid her on the garage floor. Her hands and feet were strapped tightly together with duct tape, preventing her from moving, and another strip of the heavy gray tape covered her mouth. Her eyes were huge, her expression one of shock. The ugly bruise on one side of her face gave evidence that she hadn’t gone into the trunk willingly.