by Sylvie Kurtz
Just like a flower seeking the sun, she leaned into his touch before taking the page from him. “How long?”
“Since he quit school one semester before graduation.” He handed Melissa the rest of the report and stuck his hands into his jeans pockets to keep himself from reaching for her. That would only anchor the bond between them, and he needed to find a way to cut it without breaking her heart. “Must have been tough to have the silver spoon yanked out of his mouth like that.”
She looked up at him from her curled position on the corner of the couch. Heat colored her cheeks as she became aware of his admiring stare. Her hand started to rake hair over the left half of her face. When she realized what she was doing, she hooked the hair behind her ear and smiled at him. A punch to the gut would have hurt less than that show of trust. “You don’t think he’d set this up just to get a hand on her money, do you?”
“Anything’s possible,” he said, trying to order his thoughts.
“But wouldn’t marrying her be easier and more lucrative?”
“Not if he’s not sure of your intent toward your sister.”
“What’s a million dollars when there’s billions where that came from?”
Tyler pointed at the financial section of Freddy’s report. “Looks like he might need funds right now, judging from his bank balance.”
She shook her head, sending blue ribbons of sunlight rippling through the soft waves of her dark hair. “So he’d have her kidnapped? That doesn’t make any sense, either.”
“It does if the debt is an illegal one. He has no official record, but it looks like he got himself in a financial bind last year.”
“What happened?”
“From what Freddy can figure out, it looks as if our boy likes to play the ponies. Someone came to the rescue.”
“His parents?”
“Doesn’t say. Maybe he’s on his own this time. Gambling isn’t a fever that disappears overnight.”
She stabbed the report with a finger and looked at him with a determined look that had panic twisting his gut. “I want you to go there.”
“Where?”
“His house. It’s not far from here. It’s out near Trinity Meadows. You need to go there and search it.”
He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“For one, I don’t like the smell of this.” Any of it. Why strike now? It smacked of coincidence, and Tyler had never believed in coincidence.
“There are no chess pieces involved,” Melissa said, stretching her long legs in front of her. He stared at the curve of the arch of her foot, thought of planting a kiss there and wondered when he’d developed a foot fetish.
“It’s not related,” she said. “And if Drake is responsible for Tia’s kidnapping, then he’s sure to have left some clue behind. Maybe she’s even there at his place.” She ran a hand through her long hair, causing his fingers to twitch with need. “At least if Drake is the one who’s holding her, we know he won’t hurt her.”
We know no such thing. Greed had a way of clouding judgment. He didn’t like the annoying itch between his shoulder blades. It always announced bad news. “I can’t leave you.”
She cocked her head and lasered her gaze on his. Temper crackled in the deep green of her eyes. “Why not?”
The reverend’s disciples were growing more restless by the day. Who knew when they’d try to breach the moat and do more than preach at Melissa? And there was still their unknown chess player to contend with. What if his plan was to leave Melissa without anything or anyone to protect her before he made his final strike? What better way to leave her vulnerable than to take away her support network? Grace was still in a coma at the hospital. Deanna was out of town. Even her favorite horse was away. And with the kidnapping, someone was conveniently keeping Tia and Sable from filling the gap. Not that they would have, anyway, but it certainly took care of the possibility. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
She dismissed him with a wave. “I’ve been alone all of my life.”
He bent down, resting both his hands on the couch’s arm and met her gaze. “But not like this.”
Not with danger all around her and with them no closer to finding the source than they were two weeks ago. He reached for her and pulled her tightly against him. His mind was full of her. He wanted to hold her so much that sometimes it hurt. The words he wanted to give her were nothing more than a jumble in his mind. He wanted to tell her his involvement with her was more than just a promise to Freddy. Why had he thought he could leave her? In the past few weeks she’d touched a part of him he thought had died with Lindsey. He could almost imagine living, loving—happiness—again. With her. And it scared him.
A slow smile, full of feminine awareness, graced her lips. She leaned in and kissed him. It was warm and gentle and solemn. It was a pledge and a bond. It was wholehearted trust. And it nearly undid him.
“Sable will be here any minute now,” Melissa said, eyes shining. “And the broker’s due soon with the money. I won’t be alone.” She gave his chest a little shove. “Go.”
“Stay right here,” he insisted.
“Where would I go?”
“You’re still under house arrest,” he reminded her. The last thing he wanted was to have her put in jail again for violating the arrangement Freddy had worked so hard to gain her. “You can’t leave.”
Smiling, she kissed him again. “Go.”
DRAKE’S ROOM, not far from the racetrack, reflected a lifetime of growth, Tyler mused. And fom the bronzed baby shoes on the pressed-board dresser to the tarnished football trophies on the plywood shelves hammered into the wall with iron brackets to the betting tickets littered everywhere, it was apparent that Drake liked to hang on to things.
In typical bachelor style, clothes were strewn all over the floor, and the full-size bed was unmade. The odor of sweat and sex arose from a pile of dirty laundry by the bed. Above the cluttered desk hung a corkboard covered with pictures.
Drake as a baby being held by his beaming mother. Seeing the resemblance to J.R. Randall in the woman’s face cemented his belief that this kidnapping was no coincidence.
Several pictures of Drake holding a sleek Thoroughbred horse in the winner’s circle. Flymaster owned by J.R. Randall. J.R.’s Mastermind owned by J.R. Randall. Black Witch owned by J.R. Randall.
Drake with his arms around a ragged band of spoiled brats who’d been handed too much too easily and didn’t know what to make of themselves. Rebellion was stamped on their faces. Tyler pocketed that picture. Maybe Freddy could come up with names.
There was another photo of Drake with Tia, who was looking at him in wide-eyed adoration. If Drake was involved with Tia’s kidnapping, Tyler would break every bone in his body.
On the desk Tyler found a recorder attached to the phone. Why would Drake feel the need to tape his telephone conversations? Tyler hit the rewind button. What he heard chilled him to the bone.
“Mom’ll worry.”
“She’s too busy to take notice of you. Come on, Tia. It’s only for a few days.”
“Okay, then. When will you be by?”
“I have to go pick up a few things. We don’t want to be found until we’re ready to be found.” He laughed. “Why don’t you meet me there?” Drake followed with directions.
“I’ll have to take the long way around. I think Mom’s having me followed. But I’ll be there.”
Was Tia in on her own kidnapping? Was this her way of squeezing more money out of her sister? Seeing as how Tia was going through it like water and given her greedy nature, Tyler wouldn’t put it past her. Didn’t she realize how her selfishness was hurting Melissa?
Tyler swore. “The little bitch.”
TYLER FOUND TIA sprawled by the lake’s edge at the Randall fishing camp, and it took all he had not to strangle her on the spot. “Didn’t anyone tell you sun was bad for your skin?”
“I have sunscreen on. SPF 15.”
She d
idn’t seem the least bit embarrassed about being caught in a lie. She lay totally relaxed on the chaise, her tiny fuchsia-and-orange bikini leaving little to the imagination.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, peering at him over her sunglasses. “I thought you and Mel were joined at the hip.”
“Do you have any idea of the grief you’ve caused your mother and sister?”
“Grief? What are you talking about?”
“The fake kidnapping.”
“What kidnapping?” She picked up the bottle of water at her side and took a long swallow. Cool as a cucumber, this girl.
“The one you and Drake engineered.”
Capping the bottle, she narrowed her gaze at him. “You know, I thought I liked you, but now I’ve decided that your cheese has slipped off your cracker.” She swung her legs over the side of the chaise, wriggled her feet into high-heeled sandals and picked up the color-coordinated wrap puddled at her feet. “If you’re going to throw a fit, then I’m going back inside.”
As she rose, he snaked out a hand and closed his fingers hard on her shoulder. He kept his voice low and enunciated every syllable. “What are you doing here?”
She whirled toward him, gave an impatient huff and tapped one foot. “What does it look like I’m doing? Drake’s uncle let him borrow his cabin for the weekend and we’re making full use of it.”
A sick feeling washed over him. She didn’t know. Drake was using her, and she had no idea. “Where’s Drake?”
“Out.” She lifted her chin defiantly, protecting her scoundrel lover.
He tightened his grip and brought his nose close to hers. “Out where?”
She batted at his hand, dropping her wrap. “Ouch, you’re hurting me.”
“You’re going to be hurting a whole lot more if you don’t answer my question,” he said through gritted teeth. “Where’s Drake?”
“He had an errand to run and said he’d be back by noon.”
Tyler pushed the fuchsia-and-orange wrap at her. “Put this on. You’re coming with me.”
“I am not,” she said, letting the wrap fall to her feet.
“Your mother thinks you’ve been kidnapped. Your sister is putting together one million dollars in cash to save your sorry skin. And your lover set it all up.” He picked up the wrap and shoved it at her once more. “You’re getting dressed and you’re coming with me. Now. Neither of them deserves what you’ve put them through.”
“You’re wrong. Drake would never do this.” Tia pulled on the sheer dress over her head and adjusted it over her slim frame. “Why would he pretend to kidnap me? What does it gain him?”
“Money.”
She sneered. “Well, there you go. Drake doesn’t need money. His family has pots of it.”
“His family does. But he owes nearly a million dollars.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Who pays for your dates?”
She frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Two to one he’s conveniently forgotten his wallet on most of them.”
While she blinked at him, Tyler grabbed her hand and jerked her toward the gate he’d sneaked through earlier, then ordered her to enter the code. Instinct screamed at him. He shouldn’t have left Melissa alone.
He barely gave Tia time to climb into the Jeep before he set off. Tires squealing, he peeled onto the road and sped toward the castle. “If anything happens to your sister while I’ve been out looking for you, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
Worse, he could never forgive himself.
With one hand, he reached for his cell phone and dialed Melissa’s number.
He got no answer.
Chapter Thirteen
The phone rang. Sable lunged for it, but Melissa stopped her. “Let me get the recorder going first.” Tyler, anticipating a follow-up to the ransom demand, had left his microcassette recorder behind. She pushed the record button. “Put the phone on speaker first.”
Sable’s fingers shook as she followed Melissa’s instructions. “Hello?”
“Do you have the money?” The voice over the phone warbled with electronic distortion.
Sable’s eyes darted to the leather case at the foot of the computer table and the twenty-two pounds of bills stacked in it. “Yes. I want to speak with Tia.”
“Farmers’ Market in Weatherford. Be there at noon. Alone. I’ll know if you’re not. Buy a quart basket of cherry tomatoes from the woman in the Indian-blanket-print shirt with the brown cowboy hat. Leave the money—which you’ll have in a shopping bag—beside her booth.”
Like a rubbernecker at a car wreck, Melissa leaned toward the phone. He was picking the busiest time of the day in a location likely to be crowded. He could just melt into the sea of people. Catching him under those conditions wouldn’t be easy. She needed to find Tyler.
Sable strangled the edge of the computer table with both hands. “Tia. I need to speak with Tia. I need to know she’s all right.”
“As you leave the market,” the kidnapper continued, “you’ll see a booth selling pots of herbs. I’ll leave Tia’s location in a newspaper there.”
Before Sable could say anything more, the line went dead. “No!” She punched buttons, trying desperately to reconnect with the kidnapper and managed to get only a dial tone. “No!”
“Sable?” Melissa touched her stepmother’s arm. “It’s okay. We’ll get her back. Take a deep breath.”
Sable whirled on her, hands fluttering like caged bats. “I need a shopping bag. A big one.” She started searching the room, throwing around papers, paintings and anything that got in her way.
Melissa caught Sable’s arm just as she was starting to attack the drawing table. “There’re some in the kitchen. Let’s go down. Okay?”
Sable nodded, then grabbed the case filled with money and held it tightly to her chest as they made their way down to the kitchen.
From a closetlike room off the kitchen, Melissa withdrew a large white plastic bag with handles that Grace used to gather peaches in the orchard. Sadness murmured through her at the thought of Grace. The floor nurse had said there was no change in Grace’s condition today. Maybe the reverend and his crew were starting to have an effect on her, because Melissa sent up a little prayer for her friend’s recovery. She shook her head. It’s the hymns, she thought. They reminded her of Sunday mornings and her mother. Victoria Carnes had had a beautiful voice.
After they’d transferred the contents of the case into the bag, Sable insisted on stowing it in her car. Melissa followed her outside. Sunlight drove a spike of pain through her left eye. The breeze carried the boom of the reverend’s bull-horned voice into the courtyard as he described the horrors of hell awaiting her. “…you must cleanse your-a soul before the darkness of-a hell descends on-a you…”
“I’m going to call Tyler and let him know about the rendezvous point.”
“No!” Sable slammed the trunk shut. The reverend’s voice hiked up an octave as if he wanted his message heard over the noise.
“…power lies in-a the renouncement of the forces of-a evil…”
“You can’t go there alone,” Melissa said.
Sable shoved both her hands through her hair as if she was going to pull it out. Untidy wisps now spiked out of her careful chignon. “Nothing can go wrong. I’m following his instructions to the letter. He said alone. I’m going alone.”
“But, Sable—”
“No buts.” Sable opened the driver’s door and reached inside. When she straightened, she held a red crocodile handbag at her hip and a silver handgun pointed at Melissa’s chest. “I’m sorry, Melissa. I don’t want to do this, but I don’t have a choice.”
Gasping, Melissa instinctively put up her hands and stepped back. Sable looked desperate enough that Melissa didn’t want to give her any reason to press the trigger. “Okay, okay. I won’t call Tyler. We’ll do it your way. Put away the gun.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Her forehead
crimped and she gave a sad shake of her head. She waved the gun around, making Melissa feel like a giant bull’s-eye. “You’re part of the deal.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand.” In spite of the sun’s heat, a chill shuddered through her.
As Sable advanced, Melissa retreated. The reverend’s voice kept cadence with their pace.
“I have to take care of what’s mine,” Sable said.
“Of course. And you’ll get Tia back safely.” Melissa forced brightness into her voice and tried to contain the panic building inside her. Glancing around, she sought a way to escape. In the middle of the courtyard, she made a perfect target. The gazebo, the stables, even the kitchen were too far. Sable could get off a couple of shots before Melissa could reach any cover. Because of the reverend and his flock, both the portcullis and the postern doors were bolted.
“Don’t even think about making a run. I will shoot.”
The determination in Sable’s eyes said that she would. “I want you to walk nice and slowly to the southwest tower.”
“There’s nothing there.” Except a dry well that served no purpose other than to preserve authenticity. In its European incarnation, it had supplied the household with water. Now it created a very real hazard for her.
“I know.” She waved the gun. Afraid Sable would inadvertently loose a bullet, Melissa saw no alternative except to obey. The sun’s brightness made her eyes tear and blurred her surroundings. Sharp rocks, hard doors, thorny bushes all smudged into a watercolor softness. She blinked madly, but all that did was increase the burn and stream of tears.
“Sable, please…”
The reverend’s voice dropped into a sudden silence. Melissa filled her lungs with air and opened her mouth to scream. The plea for help died before it was born when Sable’s hand steadied and her aim became too sure. The flock took over where the reverend left off. Their voices rose into a rendition of “Walk in the Light.”
“Open the door.”
Maybe that was her chance. If she played things right, she could knock Sable down with the door and escape. “It’s not safe in there.”