Cowboy Protector

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Cowboy Protector Page 13

by Patricia Rosemoor


  Neil groaned and shifted as his groin throbbed.

  And he returned the favor, starting at the small of her back and ending by cupping her breast.

  “Neil…” she breathed into his mouth. “Yes…”

  Suddenly a shot of hazy light issued from the darkened factory building. Neil stopped the kiss just as the front door was opening.

  “Annabeth,” he said, “look.”

  The light was off now, but the streetlights were enough to see Skull leaving the building and pulling the door shut behind him.

  “Where do you think he’s going?” Annabeth murmured as she squirmed away, setting a good distance between them. “Could he be meeting up with Nickels?”

  She was breathless but trying to sound normal, Neil thought. Surely she wasn’t embarrassed. Now was not the time to talk things over, however.

  For the Hispanic thief was unlocking an ancient Monte Carlo. He opened the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel.

  Getting hold of himself, Neil said, “My question is whether or not to follow him.”

  “Why wouldn’t we? I thought that’s why I got the truck.”

  As the thief started his engine, Neil admitted, “I’m curious about what we might gain by getting inside the building.”

  “You mean as in break in?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that. Not exactly. Besides, the place is an old, deserted factory, not an apartment building. Who says the bastard was in there legally?”

  Rationalizing had never been Neil’s forte, but it seemed he was getting good at lots of things he’d never done before. Besides, his logic really did make sense to him. If they left the place now, and waited for the police to go in, any evidence could disappear.

  The Monte Carlo started pulling away from the curb…

  “Well, go or stay?” he asked Annabeth.

  She hesitated only a moment before saying, “Stay. Let’s see where he’s been holing up.”

  Thankfully, she was sounding normal. The fear she’d awakened with had dissipated along with the sexual tension that had hot-wired between them only moments ago.

  Neil felt under his seat for his flashlight. The moment the old car turned a corner, they were out of the truck and heading for the darkened building.

  “So how will we get in?” Annabeth asked.

  “Windows are pretty low.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re open.”

  “In the kind of heat we’ve been having?”

  Not that they had to make the effort. The front door was unlocked. After circling the entire building to make certain he spotted no other sign of life through the darkened windows, Neil shone his light on the door and found the locks had been jimmied open.

  “Our friend Skull must not have a key,” Neil murmured. “Stay here a moment.”

  “Why?”

  “In case he comes back,” Neil lied.

  He intended to double-check the interior, to make certain they were alone. Nickels could be in there. Asleep. Waiting. A spider in his web. Neil wouldn’t subject Annabeth to any more danger than necessary.

  Without fully opening the door, he slipped inside and quietly moved through an entry area and toward a cavernous space that had once been the factory.

  Moonlight filtered in through the filthy windows and illuminated the interior. Empty. Almost. All the machines that had once kept this factory humming were long gone. Everything that could be stripped from the interior was gone.

  Neil stood in the shadows, listening, until his eyes adjusted and he could sweep the interior more efficiently. No sign of life. No sound.

  Even so, he clicked on his flashlight and shone it around to be certain. The beam caught the “living area”—an old couch, a small table and two chairs and a single bed. All vacant. Weird. How could someone be living here? Unless it was for the guard. But there didn’t seem to be a guard…

  A chill shot through Neil as he wondered what might have happened to the fellow.

  Returning to the entry, he softly called out, “Annabeth, c’mon in.”

  He found a bank of light switches. A few dim bulbs went on, casting the interior with menacing shadows.

  “I didn’t see anyone on the street,” she volunteered.

  “Good. Let’s go through this place quickly before anyone is the wiser.”

  Not much to go through at that. Girlie magazines on the floor near the bed. A few clothes hung up on a pole. Of course, it was too much to hope that any of the cowboy duds from the robbery would be there.

  Annabeth was digging through a garbage can filled with fast-food wrappings. “Yuk!” she muttered. “Doesn’t this guy ever eat anything that isn’t greasy?”

  More trash littered the table and floor. Neil moved some of it around with his boot until he hit an odd lump. He kicked away the bag covering it and revealed something small and dark and square.

  “What’s this?” he muttered, stooping to pick up what proved to be a worn leather wallet.

  “Oh, my God,” Annabeth whispered.

  “Is this what I think it is?”

  She nodded. “Proof.” And then, voice hopeful, she said, “Maybe my check is still inside.”

  Holding the thing gingerly so as not to mess any telling prints, Neil held it out to her. “You do the honors.”

  Annabeth’s hand trembled as she reached out to take the wallet from him. Her fingertips touched his and Neil’s mind whirled into the mist…

  “La-a-adies and gentlemen. May I direct your attention to the bucking chute.”

  Audience laughter fills the arena as the chute opens and a docile horse steps out, a rodeo clown on his back facing the wrong direction. Despite the fact, he pumps his legs and throws up his free arm as if he’s riding a bronc.

  The view shifts closer, behind the scenes, to a pen where calves rounded up for the next event are being held.

  Nearby, a cowboy flips a coin over and over as he gazes around from beneath the brim of his hat. Stuffing the coin into his vest pocket, he reaches behind him and surreptitiously pulls out a knife.

  Emotions crash, one upon the other. Animosity…fear…hatred…resentment…the need for revenge. Some flow from him like a river of destruction, but an equally strong force meets and counters them…

  The cowboy turns his head toward an unsuspecting Annabeth, who is getting ready to work the chute.

  Watching her, he caresses the wicked blade…

  Chapter Eleven

  “Neil.”

  Annabeth called his name softly several times before acknowledgment entered his gaze.

  Aware that he’d seen something upon touching her wallet, she thought to give him a minute to come back to earth. Neil shook his head as if to clear it, then swore under his breath.

  Pulse ticking too fast, she asked, “You saw through Skull’s eyes again?”

  “No,” Neil said slowly. “I saw someone else. Nickels, I think.”

  Her stomach twisted. “You saw him? You weren’t seeing through his eyes like last time?”

  Neil shook his head. “Someone else’s. Someone watching him watch…” Letting his words drift off, he frowned and looked away. “It was…confusing.”

  “How so?”

  “I was tapping into emotions. Strong ones. Only they weren’t all his.”

  “There are two of them,” she reminded him while handling the wallet carefully so as not to screw up any telltale fingerprints. Mentally crossing her fingers and toes that her check was still tucked away inside, she opened it. “Maybe you somehow tapped into both Nickels and Skull.”

  “Right. It just felt…different somehow. I can’t explain it. Sorry.”

  Empty.

  The check was gone along with all of her cash.

  Annabeth sighed. “Yeah, me, too.” Without touching any more of the leather than she had to, she dropped the wallet into her pocket. “What do you say we get out of here?”

  “Fine by me.”

  Neil was suddenly acting odd, distracte
d, scaring her. And Annabeth was too chicken to ask him what was wrong. So as they made their cautious way back to the truck, a fine wire of tension hung between them.

  Suddenly Neil said, “Do me a personal favor and don’t report for work tomorrow.”

  Personal? Annabeth’s heart picked up a beat. There was that caring side of him again. Too bad she couldn’t agree. “You know I have to go.”

  “Which is more important—money or your life?”

  Her life? Which meant what exactly?

  As Neil opened the passenger door for her, Annabeth stalled getting inside. First things first. Knowledge was power, but she was feeling very little of that at the moment.

  “What did you leave out, Neil? What are you trying not to tell me?”

  For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to answer, then, sounding stiff, he admitted, “Nickels was at the rodeo. He was watching you work, watching your every move.”

  Now he really had her spooked. The hair at the back of her neck was prickling and she was finding it difficult to swallow. But she wasn’t about to cave.

  “I have no choice, Neil.”

  “So you’re saying the money is more important.”

  “No, it goes beyond the monetary. I’m not willing to let a criminal dictate what I do with my life.” And there was more. Even the thought set her stomach flip-flopping and tying itself into a knot. “Besides which, it’s a perfect opportunity to catch the bastard, isn’t it?”

  “Annabeth, what are you thinking? You’re intending to put yourself out as bait?”

  That Neil sounded shocked didn’t surprise her. If she was normally levelheaded, then he was downright cautious, overly cautious, even for her. She’d never met a man who could be so uptight.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because it’s too damn dangerous!”

  “It’s my life. My decision.”

  “Lord, when you’re reckless and stubborn like this, you do remind me of Kate!”

  “Leave your sister out of this.”

  “Why? She put herself into situations…” With a sound of frustration, he lapsed into a silence thick with unspoken censure.

  So he cared about her? Like Kate? Annabeth wondered. Like a sister?

  Her voice thickening in her throat, she muttered, “What can Nickels do to me in a crowded arena?”

  “Who says that’s where he’ll come after you?”

  “I’m not going to go off by myself again.”

  The streetlight illuminating his torn expression, Neil stared down at her, and Annabeth knew there was more.

  Finally, he said, “Nickels had a knife.”

  Imagining the cold-eyed bastard watching her, with a sharp blade made her swallow hard. “Then we’ll have to be doubly careful that he doesn’t get to me.”

  “It’s a foolhardy plan.”

  “Desperate, maybe, but not foolhardy.”

  “Following someone in the open is one thing,” he said, “but using you as bait…we’re amateurs, for God’s sake!”

  “Then we’ll just have to get help from the authorities.”

  “PRECOGNITION, huh?” Sitting on the couch with Annabeth early the next morning, his partner in the chair opposite, Detective Wexler seemed to be biting back a grin.

  “You do readings on the side, Farrell?” Detective Smith asked.

  Annabeth winced. Their amusement was not a good sign.

  She gave Neil an I told you so expression. Saying they had no other way of explaining how they’d known where to find the Hispanic thief, he’d made the decision to reveal all, including his visions.

  “Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, Wexler,” Neil said.

  The detective immediately sobered. “Neither is your screwing me around.”

  “All right, believe what you will.” Annabeth quickly interceded before they lost Wexler altogether. “The fact is that I was attacked. Twice in one night. And then we found the damn wallet after following a man with a tattoo like that on one of the thieves who got away. Kind of a coincidence, huh, especially considering I’m the only one who saw Nickels’s face the day before.”

  They’d already handed over the wallet and ski mask in plastic bags. They’d told him about her wallet being stolen and their theory that Nickels had been the culprit so that he could get her address. They’d also given him the location of the factory building.

  Wexler nodded. “Sorry for the skepticism. You can hardly blame us. But about the attacks…I believe you’re right. This Nickels character undoubtedly seems responsible for both incidents.”

  Annabeth was relieved that Wexler was taking them seriously in general if not in the particulars.

  “So what do you plan to do about it?” Neil asked.

  Wexler slipped the knit cap into a plastic bag. “Hand this over for analysis, for one. Then if we pick up Nickels, we have physical evidence.”

  “I mean about picking up Nickels and his partner,” Neil clarified. His agitation showing, he was pacing the length of the room. “I mean about the attacks on Annabeth. What are you going to do to protect her? Are you going to have a guard at the rodeo tonight in case Nickels shows?”

  Neil had told them about his latest vision, though of course he could not be certain that Nickels would show tonight.

  “Like I suggested before,” Detective Wexler said, turning his attention to her directly. “It might be best if you stay away from the rodeo for a few days, maybe move in temporarily with a relative or a friend.”

  “Great idea if only that were possible,” Annabeth said. “Like I said, I can’t afford to give up work. And I don’t have anyone I can impose on.”

  Detective Smith suggested, “A motel, then.”

  “And the city would pay?” she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

  Wexler muttered something about the tight budget and how they didn’t have the funds to guard her.

  “You mean you’re not going to do anything?” Neil demanded, his voice rising in hearty indignation.

  “I can have a squad car come around, keep an eye on this place.”

  “How often would that be?”

  “A few times a shift.”

  “And what about between those times?”

  Detective Wexler raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness.

  “I just love the interpretation of justice,” Neil muttered. “When you get the bastard, you’ll damn well protect him—”

  “Neil.” Annabeth’s soft plea added to physical contact as she touched his arm to calm him down. “We’ll watch each others’ backs. We’ll manage.”

  Her speech was braver than she was feeling, of course. Her heart was pounding and her stomach tying itself into a big fat knot.

  Neil nodded his agreement but didn’t give over altogether. “About the search for Nickels and his cohort?” he asked the two cops.

  “We’ll be on it,” Detective Wexler promised.

  Detective Smith added, “We can have the Bucktown neighborhood checked out without adding the psychic stuff to the report.”

  Heaven forbid they should be thought foolish, Annabeth thought. It was only her life on the line.

  “And what about the rodeo?” Neil demanded.

  “We already got a contingent on the grounds,” Smith said. “They’ll be alerted.”

  Detective Wexler added, “We’ll have men posted near the entrances and exits. And the men inside will keep an extra eye out for the perps, which brings me to the next thing you’ve got to do. Come back to the area office with us. Work with Officer Nuhn on getting a visual on the Hispanic now that you’ve seen him. That way, they’ll know who they’re looking for. As for you, I’ll give you two my beeper number. You see either of the perps, you leave me a message.”

  Neil gave over. “Fine by me.”

  Relieved, Annabeth slipped her fingers into his hand. “And by me.”

  His firm grip as he encased her hand in his relieved some of the anxiety. They just had to keep their heads, to keep
thinking, to outsmart the bad guys.

  For once, she would control her own destiny.

  THE TRIP TO the area office was a productive one. Now they had likenesses of both thieves.

  Then Neil escorted Annabeth to work, arriving at three, a half hour before the rodeo grounds opened for the day. Even so, he didn’t leave her side until someone was with her so that he could be certain that she was safe.

  Then he set out to find Lloyd Wainwright.

  It took a while, but he finally spotted the man near the far barn that housed the bulls.

  The stock contractor was deep in discussion with Peter Telek. While the old Indian was dressed in jeans and cowboy shirt, long braids hung from below his Stetson and a medicine pouch hung from a leather thong around his neck.

  Great, Neil thought. Two birds with one stone. Everyone who had been involved in the hostage situation should know what was going on.

  “It’s mighty peculiar if you ask me,” Wainwright was saying in a low tone. “Calves. Steer. Now a couple of bulls. Animals don’t just up and disappear into thin air.”

  “Apparently these did,” the rodeo official said. “Must have been some snag along the way.”

  “I’ll be looking into it, believe you me,” Wainwright promised. “Insurance or no insurance.”

  Telek pressed a clipboard on the stock contractor. Wainwright merely glanced at the paperwork before signing. Then his back stiffened as if he finally sensed another presence behind him. He whipped around to face Neil.

  His expression closed, he nodded. “Farrell, you lookin’ for me?”

  If Neil didn’t know better, he would think Wainwright had some reason to dislike him. “For both of you.” He included the rodeo official in his gaze. “Alderman Lujan, too.”

  Telek said, “Haven’t seen him around today.”

  “I saw Lujan earlier,” Wainwright said.

 

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