The Witch On Twisted Oak

by Muller, Susan C.

  A string of profanities boiled out, but he cut them off abruptly when a pair of headlight appeared. Holding his breath, he watched the car turn to the right.

  He started the engine, but left his lights off. He eased out of the parking lot and followed at a distance. With the night so dark, keeping an eye on the car ahead was easy. Watching the road was the hard part. If he ran off into a ditch in a stolen car, he’d be in deep shit.

  After several miles, occasional lights and businesses appeared. The road was easier to see, but so was his car. And a car driving without lights would alert even the most distracted driver.

  When they crossed an intersection, he paused, then switched on his lights. Let them think he’d just turned the corner. The car turned into a Mexican restaurant but Jacinto drove past and stopped at a convince store. He watched as a man and a woman got out. But they were both short and dumpy. Obviously middle-aged.

  Son-of-a-fucking-bitch. Could he even find his way back to where he lost them? He slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

  If all else failed, he knew where Marquez had picked her up. Someone there must know where they had gone. But barging into a gun store would be risky.

  He searched in the dark for his cell phone. An old client was a whiz with computers and should be able to find an address for Marquez now that he knew what county to look in.

  He’d save the gun store owner as a last resort. Because he didn’t plan to give up. He had one last chance to get what he needed, and the baby witch was the key.

  If that meant taking out Marquez to get to her, so much the better.

  Ruben heated a cup of tomato soup in the microwave. There wasn’t any milk, so he’d used water with a spoon of coffee creamer.

  Tessa sat on the sofa, her legs tucked under her and Bob in her lap. She stroked the cat and spoke to him in soft whispers.

  Ruben’s heart lurched. So now what? He was jealous of a cat? She was a witness for God’s sake. Nothing more. If she’d clung to him after a nightmare, it was simply the fear talking.

  What did they call it when patients fell for their therapists, transference? He’d come across it before and he’d never taken advantage. He wouldn’t now.

  Although if he didn’t stop comparing her to other women he’d known, that was going to be tough.

  He switched on the CD player and sat at the table with his back to her. Music filled the room; the same Monk CD he’d heard at her place. Was even his music conspiring against him?

  “I hate that I didn’t get a chance to paint this place.” Her voice startled him. “The colors of the leaves and trees against that lake and sky, I’ll never be able to duplicate them.”

  He twisted to face her, holding the cup of soup in one hand. “We have all day tomorrow. The Marshalls won’t have anything set up before late afternoon. We can do whatever you want.”

  “I want to paint. I want to go out in the boat and fish. I want to hike in the woods.”

  A grin spread across his face until his cheeks hurt. “I said whatever, not everything you could think of. We’ll need to leave by three, four at the latest, but I think we can work those things in. I didn’t know you liked to fish.”

  “I have no idea if I like to fish. I’ve never been in my life. But it’s a wonderful excuse to go out in a boat on that beautiful lake.”

  She clapped her hands over her mouth. “Will I get sea sick?”

  “Not unless the wind picks up. If that happens, we’ll wait for another day.” Had he just invited her to come for another visit? He’d better take a step back before he did something he’d regret. She wasn’t the passing fling type.

  He downed the last of his soup and rinsed the cup.

  “Have you heard anything about Mamacita? Is she feeling better?” She propped bare feet on the coffee table.

  “I talked to Ramona today. She’s not any better. Worse, if anything. Ramona’s doctor friend didn’t have any ideas. Solving this case and putting Jacinto away is the only thing I know to do.”

  “I wish I could help.”

  So do I.

  She stood, placing Bob gently on the sofa. “It’s been a long couple of days. I think I’ll grab a quick shower and head to bed. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, fine.” Did that mean he was invited or kicked out?

  When she emerged ten minutes later, plucking at what he knew had to be a damp waistband of her flannel sleep-pants, he felt a flush of shame. You’re a prick, Marquez. You know that?

  He tried for an innocent smile. “Did you leave me any hot water?”

  “Could be, I’m not making any promises.” She scurried past him into the bedroom.

  After his shower, he ditched the jeans in favor of a pair of elastic-waist knit shorts he used to work around the cabin.

  The bedroom door stood open and one lamp was still on. What did that mean? He checked the lock on the front door and turned off all the lights except the one in the bathroom.

  Now what? When in doubt, just ask. “Are you still upset? Do you want me to come in or would you rather be alone?”

  “After all the bad news I had today, I don’t think I could stand another nightmare. Come on in, if you don’t mind. I promise you’re safe.”

  He slid in beside her, but she turned her back and plumped up her pillow. Within minutes, she was asleep.

  He focused on the ceiling and waited while the clock counted down the hours till dawn.

  Tessa felt the bed move and a cool gust of air hit her back. “Are you getting up?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. Just turning over. Bob has been sitting on my chest, staring at me for the last hour.”

  “What time is it?” The sky was still dark. Had she been asleep for an hour or eight hours? Either way, her body was relaxed and rested.

  “A little before five. Go back to sleep, you’re safe. I’m right here.” His voice was hardly above a whisper.

  Her body tensed. What had he said last night about the increased danger? “Is your gun on the table?”

  “Yes. No one can hurt you, here or in your dreams.”

  “I should get up and let you sleep for a while. Bob and I will go in the other room.” But she didn’t want to get up. She wanted to stay exactly where she was.

  “Not necessary. I’ll have plenty of time to sleep later. You rest now.” He placed his hand on her waist and she twisted to face him.

  At least my pants are dry now.

  “Ruben?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for staying by me. You have no idea how terrifying those nightmares are.” Or how safe I feel when you’re next to me.

  His hand reached up and stroked her hair. “My pleasure. I don’t often get to sleep next to a beautiful woman.”

  That was a lie. She’d seen the long line of women in his past. But she’d also seen that none of them held a piece of his heart.

  What would she do tomorrow night, when she was surrounded by strangers? She felt a tear slide from under her lids. She wouldn’t even have Bob for company.

  “Are you crying, honey? What’s wrong?”

  “I just miss you already.” Why did she feel so alone?

  Her father had been dead since before she was a teenager. Carmen had joined him five years ago. Her mother, her real mother, had only been dead for two weeks, but she’d been out of her life for more than twenty years.

  She was used to being on her own. So why did losing Ruben tomorrow hurt so badly? He had never claimed to be anything more than . . . what? A friend? A protector?

  But he felt like more than that to her.

  She’d realized it first on Sunday, when they went to his brother’s house. Everything about that gathering felt so real, so right. Watching Ruben with his family, the way he obviously loved them, even when they irritated him, reminded her of her friend Miranda Bascom’s father.

  As a kid, she’d spent as much time at Miranda’s as possible. When she’d turned sixteen, she’d asked Mr. Bascom to teach her to
drive. One lesson with her stepmother was enough.

  Mr. Bascom had been so patient; he explained everything, and never yelled at her. Just the way Ruben had been when teaching her to shoot.

  She’d developed a girlish crush on Mr. Bascom even though he was balding and had a noticeable paunch. For years she’d judged every man she met by him. Ruben was the first one to live up to those memories.

  Or was it the other way around?

  She thought of Ruben the first time she met him. He’d pulled a bigger boy off her mother, saved her life by stopping the bleeding on her leg, and called for an ambulance.

  Maybe Mr. Bascom reminded her of Ruben. Either way, the man he was now tugged at her heart. For the first time in years she felt safe. And not because of his size or because he carried a gun.

  All her life, she’d been tongue-tied, shy, awkward. Yet with him, she laughed, felt alive, felt complete.

  She sighed and started to turn over, but the hand on her waist tightened and pulled her closer. Kisses peppered her eyes, then trailed down her neck. His hand moved up her back, under her T-shirt, and she felt the size and strength of it.

  She pulled back. “You don’t have to do this to make me feel better. I just had a bad moment. I’m fine now. I’ll be okay.”

  “That isn’t why,” he said, and kissed her deeply.

  “Wait.” The night-light allowed her to look into his eyes.

  He rose on one elbow. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on the floor on my knees right now if that’s what you need, because I’m begging.”

  She shook her head. “Give me your hand.”

  He pulled his hand from her back and gave it to her. She clasped it in both of hers. He couldn’t hide from her. She’d know in an instant what he felt.

  A warmth of emotion flooded up her arm and through her body. She’d seen how he felt about other women. This was different, deeper.

  “Okay,” she grinned. “You’re begging.”

  He started again at her eyelids and kissed his way across her cheek and down her neck, paying special attention to the hollow at the base of her throat.

  Just when she thought she’d scream, he stopped and pulled her pajamas off. He leaned down and began kissing her leg.

  Not exactly what she’d been expecting.

  “What I want,” he looked up into her face. “What I want more than anything else in the world,” he traced her scar with a series of baby kisses, “is that whenever you think of this spot,” he let his tongue linger on the ugly, raised line, “you think of me, not how it came to be.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “What if I forget?”

  “I’ll be around to remind you.”

  Chapter 35

  A soft hand stroked his chest. Light flooded the room. Had he fallen asleep? Just when he needed to be the most alert?

  Ruben glanced at the clock. Almost nine-thirty.

  “Don’t worry. I was awake.” Tessa nuzzled her head against his shoulder.

  “How can I ever thank you for taking the last watch?” He ran his hand the length of her body. She’d put her pajamas back on. No wonder. The room was cold. He’d have to turn the heat on. Later.

  “I’ll try to think of a way.” She lifted her head to kiss him.

  In one move, he stripped off her pajamas and tossed them to the side of the room. Her skin was as soft as he’d remembered—he ran his tongue up the cleft between her breasts—and tasted as good.

  He’d touched, tasted, and caressed every centimeter of her last night, several times. Now he could appreciate her in the morning light.

  And what a sight she was.

  Black hair spilling over copper skin. Lips swollen from kissing. Slim hips arching to meet him. Adam was crazy to call her skinny. She was ideal, from head to blue-painted toenails.

  He rubbed a callused thumb over one nipple and it perked up, looking for more attention.

  Eeeeyoooo.

  An inhuman scream split the silence.

  “Bob,” Tessa yelled.

  She was out of bed and pulling on her pajamas before his feet hit the floor.

  He stepped to the bedroom door as a crash shook the cabin. He felt as well as saw the cabin door bulge inward. But the lock held. For the moment.

  He twisted Tessa’s direction. She stood frozen, one leg in her flannel pants.

  “Run,” he whispered. “Out the window.”

  He twisted back as the front door crashed inward, flying open and hitting the wall before swinging back.

  The silhouette of a perfect square shoved the door out of his way and stepped inside.

  Bob hissed and spit and shot between the shadow’s legs. The man stumbled and went down on one knee.

  Ruben slammed the bedroom door and yanked the nightstand in front of it.

  Tessa had the blinds up and the window open, but struggled to get through it. He gave her a boost and threw her flip-flops after her.

  He snatched his gun off the nightstand and swooped up his shorts as he made for the window. Tessa stood outside, waiting.

  “Run,” he yelled. “Make for the tree line. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Where the fuck were his shoes? In the other room, along with his coat and his Glock.

  He hefted himself through the windowsill and slid to the ground, head first. Hugging the wall beside the window, with only one eye exposed, he waited for Jacinto to appear.

  The door shook and the nightstand moved a quarter of an inch. The door shook again and the nightstand jumped back several inches.

  One more shove, and he’d have the son-of-a-bitch in his sights.

  He leveled his small, back-up pistol at the spot he expected Jacinto to appear.

  Nothing happened.

  The cabin was silent. He fired one shot where Jacinto ought to be, but no answering moan indicated he’d hit anything.

  The no good bastard was coming around the side.

  Ruben shoved off from the wall, gun in one hand, shorts in the other, his feet pounding over sticks, and pebbles, and pinecones.

  He made it to the tree line, grabbed Tessa’s hand, and kept running as the first shot zipped passed him, hitting a tree and showering him with bark.

  Of all the things Ruben Jacinto had expected to see when he crashed through the door, a naked Marquez, his flag flying at half-staff, had not been one of them.

  So he wasn’t just protecting her, they were doing it. I should have known.

  It hadn’t been in his plans originally, but he might just have to finish the job for him. After he got the information he wanted. Normally, he wouldn’t go where he knew Marquez had been, but this time was different. If he could do it while Marquez watched and couldn’t prevent it, that would be golden.

  Even hurt, Marquez was dangerous. He’d have to find a way to completely disable him. But two broken arms and two broken legs should do the trick. It had before.

  He eased around the corner of the cabin and saw Marquez’s bare ass disappear behind a tree. He fired a second too late.

  Fuck. Now what? I’m the one exposed.

  He sprinted a few feet and crouched behind a wood pile. No answering shot came. They were running. He had time to make it to the woods. He might not be able to run faster than a dressed Marquez, but a barefoot one, girl in tow, he could catch up with.

  And when he did, he’d get even for everything the two of them, and their fucking mothers, had done to him.

  “Stop, wait.”

  Ruben glanced back. Tessa was gasping.

  “I can’t keep up this speed. Not on a sidewalk, and certainly not through the woods in flip flops.”

  They couldn’t stop yet. He swooped her into his arms and zigzagged through the trees. He ran twenty, thirty, forty yards before setting her down. While she caught her breath, he slipped on his shorts.

  “I think we can slow down now. We don’t want to give away our position with too much noise. We’ll make for that hill where you painted. If we get separated, I’ll meet you t
here.”

  She grabbed his hand. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, like going back after him?”

  Not until she was safely hidden. Then he’d find Jacinto and do whatever was necessary to keep Tessa safe.

  “Keep one hand on my back. I’ll lead the way, but I don’t want to have to worry that you’ve fallen behind.”

  They walked for another ten minutes, Ruben swerving around the worst of the bushes and brambles. Every couple of minutes, he’d stop and listen for Jacinto.

  “See that cluster of trees?” He pointed to a grouping of four trees with a small hollow in the center.

  He watched Tessa’s face as she studied the trees and nodded. Was she calm enough to leave alone? He couldn’t tell.

  “I’m going to scoop the leaves out and I want you to lie down. I’ll scatter the leaves on top of you and you’ll be completely invisible.”

  “So you’re going to stick me in with the spiders and snakes.”

  She might have been joking, but he wasn’t sure.

  Twigs and leaves clung to her hair. Her eyes watched the woods as if expecting to see Jacinto burst out. “Shouldn’t we just head for your car and drive like fury?”

  “I suspect he found my car and used it to locate the cabin. If he did, then he’s disabled it and will head straight there looking for us. Even if he doesn’t know where it is, I locked it and set the alarm. If I broke a window the alarm would go off and he’d know exactly where we were. I’m not sure I can hot-wire it and certainly not before he found us. That’s why I headed in the opposite direction.”

  “Why can’t we keep going until we find a road, then flag down the first car and call 911?”

  She was thinking, planning. Good. It meant she wouldn’t let the fear freeze her.

  “What if he’s in the first car, looking for us? We have to take him now, before he disappears. Otherwise, we’ll be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. Besides, he’s the worst snake out here.”

  That scum wouldn’t get a chance to kill another person. Especially not Tessa. Not after he just found her.

  He scooped the leaves to one side then sat back and studied the hole. Was it big enough? She was slim, but tall. He glanced at Tessa, judging her size.