Eight Classic Nora Roberts Romantic Suspense Novels

by Nora Roberts

  Cy didn’t know what he was talking about, but nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “They’ll be punished. ‘They shall bear the punishment of their iniquity.’ ” His hands began to clench and unclench slowly. “All of them. Down to the last generation.” His eyes cleared and focused on Cy again. “Where’d you get that bike, boy?”

  He started to claim it was Jim’s, but with his father’s eyes on him, feared the lie might burn his tongue off. “It’s just loaned to me, is all.” He began to shake, knowing there was no choice. “I got me a job. I got work down at Sweetwater.”

  Austin’s eyes went blank as he took a shuffling step forward. Clench, unclench went his big, blackened hands. “You went to that place? That viper’s den?”

  Cy knew there were worse things than belts. There were fists. Tears sprang to his eyes. “I won’t go back, Daddy. I swear. I only thought—” A hand closed over his throat, cutting off words and air.

  “Even my son betrays me. Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.” He tossed Cy aside like a limp sock. The boy’s elbows banged painfully on the concrete, but he didn’t cry out. For a long time there was only the sound of breathing.

  “You will go back,” Austin said at length. “You’ll go back and you’ll watch. You’ll tell me what he does, which room he sleeps in. You’ll tell me everything you see and hear.”

  Cy swiped at his eyes. “Yes sir.”

  “And you’ll get me food. Food and water. You bring it here, every morning, every night.” He was smiling again when he hunkered down by his son. His breath was bad, foul as a grave. The light seeped through the opening of the culvert hit his irises and turned them almost white. “You don’t tell your ma, you don’t tell Vernon, you don’t tell nobody.”

  “Yes sir.” Cy’s head bobbed in desperate agreement. “But Vernon, he’d help you, Daddy. He could get your truck and—”

  Austin slapped a hand across Cy’s mouth. “I said nobody. They’ll be watching Vernon. Watching him day and night because they know he’ll stand by me. But you—they won’t pay no mind to you. Just remember I’ll be watching you. Sometimes I’ll be here, waiting. Sometimes I won’t. But I’ll always be watching you. Understand me? I’ll always be watching you, and listening. The Lord will let me see, let me hear. If you make a mistake, His wrath will smite you down, cleave you in two with one mighty blow.”

  “I’ll bring it.” Cy’s teeth chattered over the words. “I promise. I’ll bring it.”

  He laid his brutal hands on the boy’s shoulders. “You tell anyone you seen me, and even God Himself won’t save you.”

  It took Cy almost an hour to bike to Sweetwater. A quarter of the way there he had to stop and toss up his breakfast. When he was empty, he rinsed off his clammy face with the stingy water of the Little Hope. Because his legs were shaking, he had to ride slow or risk a spill. Every few minutes he looked uneasily over his shoulder, almost certain he would see his father behind him, smiling that smile and snapping the belt they’d taken away from him at the county jail.

  When he got to Sweetwater, he saw Tucker was on the side terrace, going through the morning mail. Cy parked the bike with deliberate movements.

  “Morning, Cy.”

  “Mr. Tucker.” His voice sounded rusty and he coughed to clear it. “I’m sorry about being late. I was—”

  “You’re calling your own hours, Cy.” Tucker glanced absently at a stock report and set it aside. “We got no time clock here.”

  “Yes sir. If you’ll tell me where to start, I’ll get right on it.”

  “Don’t rush me,” Tucker said pleasantly, and tossed a scrap of bacon to the ever-hopeful Buster. “Had breakfast?”

  Cy thought about what he’d lost on the side of the road. His stomach twisted evilly. “Yes sir.”

  “Then you can come on up here while I finish mine. Then we’ll see what’s to do.”

  Reluctantly, Cy climbed the three rounded stairs that led to the terrace. Buster looked up, thumped his tail once in reflex, then burped.

  “He’s thrilled to have company,” Tucker said dryly. He tossed one of Josie’s catalogues aside and smiled up at the boy. “Since you’re so all-fired—what the hell’d you do to yourself?”

  “Sir?” Panic shot into his voice. “I didn’t do nothing.”

  “Hell, boy, your elbows are all scraped to shit.” He took Cy’s arm, turned it. Blood was still seeping slowly, and there was a scattering of nasty-looking grit in the cuts.

  “I just took a spill, is all.”

  Tucker’s eyes narrowed. “Did Vernon do it?” He’d had a few scrapes with Vernon himself, and was well aware the man wouldn’t think anything of laying into the boy.

  Like father, like son.

  “No, sir.” Cy felt a rush of relief that at least he could tell the truth. “I swear Vernon didn’t touch me. He gets mad sometimes, but I can stay out of his way until he forgets about it. It’s not like Daddy—” He broke off, flushing in mortification. “It wasn’t Vernon. I just took a spill, is alt.”

  Tucker’s brow had lifted during the babbling explanation. There was no use pressing the boy or adding to his embarrassment by making him admit his father and brother used him for a punching bag. “Well, slow down. You go on in, tell Della to clean you up.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Boy.” Tucker leaned back. “One of the privileges of being an employer is to give orders. You go on in, get cleaned up, and take a Coke out of the refrigerator. When you come back, I’ll have figured out how you’re earning your keep today.”

  “Yes sir.” Flooded with guilt, Cy rose. He walked into the house with a heavy heart.

  Tucker frowned after him. The boy looked like hell, and that was the truth. But who could blame him? Tucker tossed another scrap of bacon to the dog and figured he’d keep Cy busy enough to ease his mind.

  By the time the sun was blazing toward noon, Tucker had Cy occupied on the lawn tractor. Word of the Talbot affair had already raced through town, and thanks to Della’s hotline to Earleen, had reached Sweetwater while Billy T.’s bandages were still fresh.

  Like good, hand-dipped ice cream, the story came in several varieties and was consumed with relish. But with the connection between Darleen and Billy T. confirmed, Tucker was interested in only one story.

  Junior had found his wife wrapped around Billy T. Bonny on the kitchen table. Billy T. had ended up with a goose egg on the back of his head, and no charges were being filed on either side.

  Until something came along to nudge it aside, it would be Innocence’s hot news item.

  He took the afternoon to think it through, then had a piece of Della’s banana cream pie and thought some more. It was, after all, a matter of principle. A man could walk away from a lot of things, but he didn’t get far walking away from his principles.

  He bribed Della for the use of her car with the promise of a new pair of earrings and a full tank of gas. He drove past Caroline’s lane, wondering if he could talk her into a movie that night. Half a mile down, where Old Cypress Road crossed Longstreet, he parked.

  To get from town to his house, or from his house to town, Billy T. would have to drive by that spot. As far as Tucker knew, Billy T. hadn’t missed an evening at McGreedy’s since he could hold a pool cue.

  Tucker pulled out a cigarette and settled in to wait.

  He was sitting on the hood of Della’s car, thinking about lighting a second one, when he saw Caroline being pulled along by the puppy on a red leash.

  She nearly stopped her forward progress, and her fruitless attempts to teach the pup to heel, because she thought she caught a flash of annoyance in Tucker’s eyes.

  Then he was smiling. “Honey,” he called out, “where’s that dog taking you?”

  “We’re going for a walk.” She was panting a bit by the time she reached the car. Tail wriggling, Useless leapt up to nip at Tucker’s ankles.

  “This ain’t the city.” He leaned over enough to scratch the dog’s head as Useless hopped
on his hind legs. “Around here you just turn ’em loose in the yard.”

  “I’m trying to teach him to mind the leash.”

  To show the futility of that, Useless swiveled around and gnawed at it.

  “He seems to mind it plenty.” He smiled. “You look tired, Caro. Rough night?”

  “Well, the puppy cried a lot.” And even when he’d settled, she’d had a hard time sleeping, thinking that Austin Hatinger might come rapping at her door.

  “Cardboard box and a windup alarm clock.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “He’s missing his mama. You put him in a box, maybe with that cushion you bought, and tuck an alarm clock in with him. It’s like a heartbeat. Lulls them off to sleep.”

  “Oh.” She thought it over and decided not to mention that he’d lulled off just fine when she’d cuddled him into bed with her. “I’ll have to give that a try. What are you doing standing on the side of the road?”

  “I’m sitting,” he corrected her. “Just passing the time.”

  “It’s an odd place to pass it. They haven’t caught Hatinger yet, have they?”

  “Not so I’ve heard.”

  “Tucker, Susie was by earlier and she mentioned Vernon Hatinger. She said he was as bad as his father.”

  Idly, Tucker snapped his fingers to entertain Useless. “More like he’s working up to it, I’d say.”

  “She said he was always looking to pick a fight, and—”

  “Picked a few with me,” Tucker interrupted, reminiscing. “Kicked my ass, I’m sorry to say. Then Dwayne kicked his.” He grinned, remembering how Dwayne had been before the bottle had taken such a choke hold. “I never could seem to put on muscle as a boy. Even working in the field, I ended up with toothpick arms. But Dwayne, he hulked right up. Used those arms to quarterback on the football team and set all the girls to swooning after him. After Vernon tried to pound some righteousness into my face, Dwayne pounded some sin into his.” He let out a long, satisfied breath. “Sin sure as hell won that day.”

  “I’m sure that’s a touching story of male bonding, but my point is, you don’t have just Austin to worry about, but Vernon as well.”

  “There isn’t much point worrying about either one of them.”

  “Why?” she burst out. “Because your big brother will beat them up for you?”

  “These days he’s too busy beating up himself.” He cast a look down Old Cypress Road and saw the telltale plume of gravel dust and the gleam of Billy T.’s souped-up Thunderbird. “It might be best if you walked on back, put this out of your mind. Maybe I’ll stop in later and see how that painting’s going.”

  “What is it?” She’d seen that look in his eyes before. When he’d been sprawled on top of her while glass was shattering. When he’d asked her if she had a gun. This man wouldn’t need his big brother or anyone else to fight his battles. She heard the roar of Billy T.’s Glasspacks and turned. “What is it, Tucker?”

  “Nothing to concern you. Go on home, Caroline.” He slid off the hood just as Billy T. screamed to a stop.

  She gathered up the puppy and stood her ground.

  “Hey, Fucker … I mean Tucker.” Billy T. grinned around a toothpick at his own witticism. He wasn’t in a sunny mood. His head still ached, and his pride had suffered a more serious blow than his skull. He was in a kick-ass frame of mind.

  “Billy T.” Hands snug in his pockets, Tucker strolled across the road. “Heard you had a little incident this morning.”

  His eyes slitted. “What the fuck’s it to you?”

  “Just making conversation. You know, as it happens, I was just sitting here waiting for you to come along.”

  “That so?”

  “Yeah.” Out of the corner of his eye Tucker saw that Caroline had crossed the road as well. Though she stood several feet back, it annoyed the hell out of him. “A little something I’d like to clear up. If you’ve got the time.”

  Before Billy T. realized the intention, Tucker had reached in and snatched the keys from the ignition. People often forgot he could move faster than a crawl.

  “Or if you don’t,” Tucker added complacently.

  “Shit for brains.” Billy T. shoved the door open. “I guess you’re hoping for another black eye.”

  “Well, we’ll talk about that. Caroline, if you come a step closer, I’m going to be mighty unhappy with you.”

  Billy T. slanted Caroline a leer, letting his gaze crawl up her legs, slide over her belly and breasts. “Leave her be, Tuck. Maybe after I’ve finished smearing you over the road, she’d like to come on and have a beer with a real man.”

  That brought her chin up. “The only thing I see out here are a couple of sulky schoolboys. Tucker, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’d like you to drive me home. Right now.”

  Billy T. grinned and flipped away the toothpick. “Got you pussy-whipped already? Getting your plookie regular, Tuck?”

  Outraged, Caroline stepped forward, only to be brought up short by the arm Tucker shot out.

  “Now, that’s no way to talk about a lady, Billy T., but we’ll get to that in a minute. I figured we should have a word about my car.”

  “Heard your car was down in Jackson getting the pleats ironed out of it.”

  “You heard correctly. You and me, we never got along too well. And I don’t figure we’ll get along in the future, but I just can’t let what you did to my car go by.”

  Billy T. snorted and spat. “Way I heard it, you wrecked that car.”

  “Yeah, after you snuck into Sweetwater like a polecat and diddled with it.” Tucker knew Billy T.’s brain wasn’t his strong point, and lied with clear eyes. “Darleen let on how you poked those holes in the lines. Guess that wasn’t very loyal of her, after you gave her Josie’s lipstick.”

  “She’s nothing but a lying slut.”

  “That may be, but I reckon she’s telling the truth about this.”

  Billy T. swung back the hair that fell across his forehead. “And what if she is? You can’t prove it.” His lips stretched over his teeth in a sneer. “I can stand right here and tell you that I done it. I walked right down your fancy lane and poked holes in your fancy car. Darleen was feeling blue about your breaking Edda Lou’s heart, so I did it to make her feel better. And because I hate your ever-fucking guts. But you ain’t going to prove it.”

  As if considering, Tucker took out a cigarette. “You may have a point there, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get off clean.” He broke off the tip of the cigarette, lighted it. Caroline took a step back. She recognized that tone, and that look. “It occurred to me that maybe somebody in my family might have taken my car out that morning. Maybe one of them who doesn’t handle the wheel as well as I do. You know, Billy T., that just pisses me off.”

  “You want to do something about it?”

  Tucker studied the tip of his cigarette. “I guess I do. I gotta say I don’t care for the idea of getting my face pounded on again.”

  “You always was a chickenshit.” Grinning, Billy T. spread his arms. “Go ahead, take your best shot.”

  “Well, since you put it that way.” Tucker kicked him squarely in the crotch.

  Billy T. doubled over and a sound escaped him like air coming out of a pressure cooker. Still clutching himself, he went down on the side of the road. When Tucker crouched down and took a firm hold on his bruised genitals, Billy T.’s eyes rolled back in his head.

  “Don’t pass out, boy, not until I finish what I’ve got to say. You may start thinking again once your nuts slide down from your throat, and I want you to think about this. Listening?”

  “Ga” was about the only sound Billy T. could make.

  “Good. You know who holds the note on your family’s land? Payment’s been late three months running. I’d sure feel bad if I had to foreclose. And that cotton gin where you occasionally find the time to put in a few hours a week? By coincidence, it so happens I own that, too. Now, you want to have a reprisal against
me, I guess I can’t stop you. But you’ll lose your land, and your job, and as God is my witness, I’ll do my best to turn you into a soprano while I’m at it.” He bore down with his fingers to make his point. All Billy T. could do was moan and roll into a ball. “I was mighty fond of that car,” Tucker said with a sigh. “And as it turns out, I’m fond of this lady here that you insulted. So, don’t mess with me again, Billy T. I’m not a skinny ten-year-old anymore.”

  “Leave me alone,” Billy T. managed to get out. “You broke something. You broke my works.”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll bounce back. That’s why they call them balls.” When he rose, Tucker noticed that Caroline had dropped the pup, who was now relieving himself on Billy T.’s shoes. He grinned, but gathered the dog up. “Now, that’s adding insult to injury.”

  He turned to where Caroline was standing on the edge of the road, mouth agape, eyes wide. Tucker hitched the pup under his arm. “Come on, sugar. I’ll give you that ride home now.”

  “You’re just going to leave him there?” She craned her neck as Tucker pulled her to the Oldsmobile.

  “That’s the plan. I was thinking we could go take in a movie tonight.”

  “A movie,” she said blankly. “Tucker, I just stood there and watched you kick that man in the …”

  “We call them privates in polite company. Scoot on over, unless you want to drive.”

  Rubbing a hand to her temple, she did. “But that’s fighting dirty, isn’t it?”

  “All fighting’s dirty, Caroline, which is why I dearly love to avoid it.” He leaned over to give her a quick kiss before starting the engine. In an absent move, he tossed Billy T.’s keys across the road. “Now, about that movie?”

  Caroline let out a long breath. “What’s playing?”

  chapter 16

  “Perhaps you’d like a glass of water, Mrs. Talbot.” Darleen looked at Agent Burns through red-rimmed, swollen eyes ruthlessly outlined with Maybelline. “Yes, sir,” she said meekly. In the last forty-eight hours, she’d learned a whole lot about meek. “I’d be obliged.”