He nodded again and after a moment he finally managed to find the strength to leave her.
“Jason?”
He turned back.
“Pick up some condoms on the way back.”
He grinned. “What color?”
BETH LAY ON THE yellow comforter with Ollie by her side, and willed herself to fall asleep. If she could nap, if she slept alone, away from Jason, Ellie might come to her again.
It wasn’t working. She’d had two nights of restful sleep in a row, and she’d only been awake for a few hours. She’d been lying there for twenty minutes, but she didn’t feel in the least bit drowsy.
Tires crunched on the gravel drive out front. Beth tensed, then cautiously peeked out the window. It was Bob’s maroon Taurus. What’s he doing back so soon? Then she remembered that the door was locked and hurried to let him in.
She hesitated with her hand on the door. She’d promised Jason she wouldn’t let anyone in, but she hadn’t known that Bob would be back early when she said that.
The door knob rattled. Then the doorbell chimed. Good grief. We spent all night in the same house with him, and he didn’t kill us in our sleep. I can’t leave him in the heat on the porch. She opened the door.
“You’re back early,” she said as he stepped into the foyer.
“Yes, well, I got to the church too late. The service had already started, and I didn’t want to make a stir,” Anderson answered as they walked into the library. “Where’s Mr. Blackforth?”
“He’s running a quick errand.” Something prompted her to add, “He should be back any minute. Did you need to ask him something?”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” he said with the first broad smile that Beth could remember seeing on his face. “I’m going to change out of my church clothes. I’ll just be a moment.”
Beth sat on the couch in the library, tucking her feet beneath her, and pulled a magazine into her lap. It had to be one of Ellie’s. She couldn’t imagine Chris subscribing to Country Living. A few minutes later she heard Bob talking to Ollie in the kitchen, then Anderson went back to his room.
Ollie started barking and whining from somewhere down the hall, as Anderson glided into the library and paused just inside the room. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d had on. That’s odd. I thought he was going to change. Ollie continued barking.
Beth called, “Ollie? Come here, boy!” The dog didn’t come. What is that dog’s problem? She got up and headed toward the door. As she passed Bob, she asked, “Do you know what’s bothering Ollie?” The next moment his hand fisted painfully in her hair and a gun pressed into her back.
Beth froze as terror iced her spine.
“Come with me. We’re going for a drive.” Anderson’s voice was high and nervous.
JASON PULLED TO A stop in front of the house feeling pleased with himself. He’d pushed the poor rental car hard and had made the trip—including a stop at the convenience store—in less than forty-five minutes.
He stopped smiling as he approached the house. Somewhere inside, Ollie was going ape-shit, and the front door was open. The door didn’t look damaged. Damn it! Beth must have let someone in. Cold fear clenched his heart. I shouldn’t have left her. With his back against the wall, he racked the shotgun, chambering a shell.
Heart pounding, Jason crouched low, to one side of the door, and pushed it wide with the shotgun. There was no motion, no sound beyond Ollie’s muffled barking and snarling.
Burly Russian gunmen pushed through the door of the boardroom. One knelt, firing his Uzi. The smell of Cordite and Russian coffee filled the air as pain ripped through his shoulder.
No! Not now. Jason gulped a deep breath, pushing the intrusive memory away.
Moving cautiously, he searched the house, afraid of what he might find. He strove for the familiar cool calm that usually possessed him in a take-down situation, but all he could think of every time he turned a corner was whether he would see Beth’s body lying on the floor.
When he got to the library, his heart jolted painfully. The chess table lay on its side, the pieces scattered over the carpet amid the shards of a shattered lamp. A smeared hand-print of blood marked the doorframe.
Beth’s blood?
He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. Then another, but his heart was lodged firmly in this throat.
He finished searching the house, but all was in good order. He saved the master bedroom, where Ollie was scratching and barking, for last. It wasn’t likely a killer was hiding in the same room with the manic dog. Jason caught him before Ollie could rush into the library and cut his feet on the broken glass. “Sorry boy,” he said to the struggling dog. “I can’t have you mucking up the scene.” He hated to do it, but he locked Ollie back up in the room, and heaved a sigh.
He’d found no more blood. Beth probably wasn’t dead. Not yet.
He’d bought a pre-paid cell phone when he’d stopped for condoms. Jason pulled it out and punched in 911.
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” BETH ASKED.
“Just shut up and drive.” Anderson didn’t bother pointing his gun at her. He just gave a little tug to Ollie’s leash and choke chain that she now wore around her neck. It pinched and released.
Beth negotiated a twist in the narrow dirt road that Anderson had directed her to take. Her hand ached where she’d cut it. She’d tried to hit Anderson in the head with the lamp, but he’d ducked just in time and she’d only smashed it against his shoulder. He hadn’t been happy. The side of her face throbbed where he’d hit her. She was going to have a real shiner tomorrow—if she was still alive.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m not Ellie. I’m Beth, her sister. You’ve already got what you wanted. Ellie’s dead.”
“I said, shut up!” Anderson jerked more forcefully on the leash. The collar tightened painfully for several seconds before he let it relax, just long enough to make her anxious for her next breath. “Drive faster.”
Beth fell silent and sped up. Maybe she should drive them into a drainage ditch. Anderson wasn’t wearing a seat belt. But then she wasn’t either, and the air bag would probably keep him from being hurt.
Anderson pulled on the leash. “Slow down. Don’t get cute, just drive.”
She eased back on the accelerator. They weren’t going that fast now. If Anderson hadn’t hand-cuffed her to the steering wheel, she would have considered jumping out of the car,willing to take her chances that he wasn’t that good a shot. But all she could do was take as long as she dared to get to wherever they were going, and hope that Jason, or the police, or someone, found her in time.
“FORTY-FIVE MINUTES!” SAGUARO WAS a big county, and no one was close. The Sheriff’s Department was dispatching someone right away, but it was going to take nearly an hour for someone to get to the ranch. “I’m not going to wait that long,” Jason said, heading for the door. He wasn’t sure where he was going to start looking, but he couldn’t just wait here, doing nothing. “Get here when you can. I’ll keep you informed.”
“Mr. Blackforth?” Montgomery, the insurance agent, knocked at the open door. “Is everything all right?”
“What are you doing here?” Jason snarled.
Montgomery’s eyes fastened on the gun in Jason’s hand. “I, uh, came to apologize to Mrs. Pontifore for upsetting her.” He took a step back as Jason came toward him. “Is everything all right?” he asked again.
“Are those papers for her?” Jason answered, holding out his hand.
“Ah, yes.” Montgomery handed him the forms. “My investigation was fairly straight forward. It’s clear that suicide is not a consideration in this case.” He took another step back. “Good afternoon.”
Jason felt a flare of vindication, then instinct kicked in. “Wait. Why did you think there’s something wrong?” Had he seen something?
Montgomery turned back, eyeing the shotgun. “I just heard what you said on the phone. You sounded upset.”
Jason followed Montgomery out
into the drive, heading for his rental.
Montgomery paused. “Do you know when Mrs. Pontifore will be back?”
Jason’s heart thudded. “How did you know she’s gone?”
“I passed her on my way here. She was with another gentleman in a maroon car. They turned down that old dirt road. You know, the other side of where the fence veers off? She was driving way too fast, if you ask me.”
Jason’s heart leapt. It wasn’t much, but Montgomery’s info was a place to start. “Call Sheriff Connor!” he yelled over his shoulder as ran for his vehicle. “Tell him what you told me!” He gunned his engine to life, and backed up, spinning gravel.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, BETH’S hands were cramped from clutching the steering wheel and keeping the car steady on the rutted dirt roads. She slowed as they approached a chain-link fence with concertina wire looped across the top. One sign said “Carlton Mine.” Another warned, “Danger! Peligro! Contaminated Area!” A padlocked gate barred their way.
“Stop the car,” Anderson ordered.
Beth did as she was told. Maybe, if Anderson gets out, I can smash him against the fence with the car.
“Turn off the engine and give me the keys.”
Beth ground her teeth and complied. Anderson got out and left the door open. Hot, humid air rushed in, banishing the meager remnants of the air conditioning.
“Don’t wander off.” He laughed, then walked over to the gate.
A second later Beth jumped as Anderson shot the lock. He bent to examine his target then gave it a hard yank.
“Damn it!” He aimed and shot again. Anderson yelped and danced backward as a rock shattered beside his foot.
Beth almost laughed. With a little luck, he’ll hit himself with the next ricochet.
Anderson fired again, and yanked on the battered metal, but the hasp remained firmly attached to the casing. “Son of a bitch!” He ran a hand back through his thin hair and paced back and forth. Apparently shooting locks didn’t open them the way it did in the movies.
Beth twisted her hand in the handcuffs, but all she succeeded in doing was scraping her wrist raw. If this were a movie, I could free myself with a bobby pin or a paper clip. If I had one, that is.
Anderson tucked the gun in his belt and went to the trunk.
I suppose it would be too much to hope for him to shoot his balls off.
Anderson returned to the gate with a tire iron in hand. Sweat stained his shirt and beaded on his forehead. He applied the metal bar to the lock, looking for leverage, but it kept slipping free. He wedged it one way, turned it another, but it was too big to fit into the hasp. “Damn it!” He slammed the iron against the lock in frustration, once, twice, with no effect. Finally he threw the bar across the road.
He looked at the top of the fence, then back at Beth, then shook his head. Beth let out a breath. She didn’t want to get sliced up climbing through that wire. Then she shook her head. Getting cut was the least of her worries. Anderson was going to kill her when they got to the mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Taurus shimmied as Jason raced down the road that Montgomery had pointed out, hoping he didn’t blow a tire or break an axle on the rutted dirt. He was dangerously close to losing control of the car, and forced himself to slow down, grinding his teeth in frustration. He couldn’t help Beth if he crashed.
Jason struggled to regain a measure of professional focus, but panic buzzed in his head. He’d let Beth talk him into leaving her alone. What would he do if he found them too late? If Beth was dead? He already knew what that felt like, and that was when he hadn’t seen her for months. Now, after seeing her again, after tasting her, and touching her, and sharing the gift of her passion … How could he have walked away from that four months ago? Away from her. What was I thinking? He’d been an idiot. And when Maria had said Beth was dead …
I can’t lose her again.
Jason swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He wasn’t going to think about that. I will get there in time.
Jason pushed the Taurus a little faster.
WHAT’S HE DOING? BETH frowned as she watched Anderson. He was walking away, scanning the ground near the fence. Then she shook herself. It didn’t matter what he was doing. She was wasting an opportunity. Beth stretched over to open the glove box, searching for something that might work as a weapon. It was empty except for the rental agreement. She looked in the console and under the floor mats, hoping the rental agency had missed a paperclip or a ballpoint or a metal nail file, but they’d cleaned the car thoroughly. She found nothing she could use to free herself.
Anderson had walked a good distance away. If she could just get loose, she was sure she could out-run him by cutting through the desert where the car couldn’t follow. She tugged again at the handcuffs, twisted and poked at them, but the effort was futile.
If I could cut through the steering wheel … She rolled her eyes in disgust. Yeah, right. With what? I might as well wish for the key—and a gun while I’m at it. She was stuck until Anderson came back.
But she wasn’t stuck with the choke collar. She slipped it over her head, then paused. She could slap him across the face with it when he got back in the car. And then what? It wouldn’t disable him and she’d still be cuffed to the wheel. She stuffed the collar under her floor mat. Anderson would have to work for it if he wanted to use it on her again.
Fortunately, it was taking him a long time to get inside the fence. She wondered why he didn’t have her ram the gate, then answered her own question. He probably doesn’t want to damage the car, so he can say he was at church at the time he kills me. And that meant he wouldn’t shoot her in the car, either.
She wondered if Jason was back yet from the Hendricks’. Then a cold thought struck. Even if he was, how would he know where to look? He wouldn’t. The Pontifore ranch was huge, and he wouldn’t even know to look for Anderson’s car. For all Jason knew, Anderson was at church.
Fear tightened her throat. No one was going to rescue her. She was on her own, with no weapon, and no way to escape.
Beth glanced in the mirror, thinking of Ellie. Her sister wouldn’t give up, and neither would she.
DUST BILLOWED AROUND THE car, then was whipped away by the wind as Jason put on the brakes. He’d come to fork in the road.
Which way? Which way? He didn’t have time to waste taking the wrong choice. One side veered into a rocky canyon, the other continued on the way he’d been going.
He looked hopefully in the rear-view mirror, but Ellie wasn’t there. Shit. What kind of a fool was he, expecting guidance from a ghost?
A desperate fool,he answered himself, as he glanced at the glass again, and checked the side-view mirrors too, hoping Ellie might be there to show him the way. They only reflected the desert scrub behind him.
He got out of the vehicle to look at the road. Maybe one spur would have signs of recent tire tracks.
Jason bent to examine the ground. It was hard packed, showing only the occasional tread or hoof print. Maybe Tonto could read this, but Jason was a city boy. He couldn’t tell if one set of tracks was more recent than another. He fisted his hands in frustration, staring down one narrow lane, then the other. If he chose wrong, it could cost Beth her life. In the city he could call for back-up. A helicopter would be able to spot them from the air. But he wasn’t in the city.
“I could use some help now, Ellie,” Jason muttered as he got back in the car.
His right turn signal was blinking. He shut it off. It clicked back on, the little arrow on the dash flashing insistently.
“What the—”
Jason stared for a second, then the corner of his mouth curled up as he understood. He put the car in gear. “Thanks, Ellie,” he murmured as he turned onto the right fork, into the canyon.
BETH SAW ANDERSON POUNCE on something with a yip of excitement, then turn and make his way back to the gate. He’d found a piece of rebar that was thinner than the tire iron. It didn’t take him long to slip it throu
gh the hasp and twist until the lock broke. In a moment he had the gate pushed wide and he was back in the passenger seat, pointing his gun at her. He handed Beth the keys.
“Drive.”
Beth started the car. He hadn’t even noticed the collar was gone. She suppressed a surge of hope. She still had to get free of the cuffs before she could get away.
Beth drove through the gate, past the dump of old equipment and rusted metal on the right. To the left, a wide, shallow pond at the base of the tailings pile reflected the dull gray sky.
This is not what I want my last sight to be. Not this, and not Anderson.
She stopped the car inside the fence.
“Keep going,” Anderson said.
Beth felt a chill despite the summer heat. Anderson didn’t feel the need to conceal their passage by closing the gate. He must not expect to be here long. She didn’t have much time, then. She had to do something. He was going to kill her if she didn’t.
Beth drove slowly on. Her best chance was when he unlocked the handcuffs. Maybe she could lunge at him, take him off guard. But once she was free he’d be more careful. He didn’t handle the gun like he was comfortable with it, but he didn’t need much skill to shoot her if the barrel was pressed against her head.
“Stop here and give me the keys.”
The road forked in front of the mine. One branch hugged the base of the rise, the other continued on through the old iron gate that guarded an opening in the canyon wall. There was a parking area to one side of the entrance.
Beth braked. “Why are you doing this? You can have the money. I don’t want it.”
Anderson snorted. “Of course you want it. There’s not a woman alive who doesn’t love to spend a man’s money. Jewelry. Houses. You’ll want it for that brat of yours, if nothing else.”
“I told you, I’m not Ellie! I’m Beth!”
Anderson paused for a second, then shook his head. “So what? It doesn’t change anything. It’s still all about the money. Why else would you take your sister’s place?” Anderson held out his hand. “Now give me the keys.”
VEILED MIRROR Page 22