The Rancher Bodyguard

by Carla Cassidy

Grace shook her head. “None. Charlie thinks it might all be related, Mom’s murder and William’s.” She began to cry. “Oh Rachel, I’ve made a mess of things. I’ve fallen in love with Charlie again.”

  “Grace, who are you fooling? You never stopped loving him,” Rachel replied. “I saw him outside sitting in his car. What’s really going on between the two of you?”

  “Nothing now. Nothing anymore. He’s just keeping an eye on me because of the attack the other night. And I want him to defend Hope when her case comes to trial.” Grace decided not to go into the whole story about the shooting and how somebody was trying to kill her. “He says he loves me, that he always has.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Rachel asked.

  Grace sighed. “Nothing. I do think he’s changed, Rachel. I believe that he’s a different man than he was before, but I still have a knot of anger that I can’t seem to get past where he’s concerned.”

  “There are other good defense attorneys, Grace. If you really want to put him in your past, if you really have no desire to have anything to do with him, then find another attorney for Hope. Get Charlie Black completely out of your life.”

  Those words haunted Grace long after Rachel left the store. Grace ate the cold burger and considered her alternatives. She knew she should do what Rachel suggested, but she told herself that she wasn’t convinced any other lawyer would work as hard as Charlie to defend Hope.

  The afternoon was busier than usual. Prom was in less than a month, and more than a few high school girls came in to try on the sparkly gowns Grace carried just for the occasion.

  When there weren’t any customers in the store, Grace drifted by the window, oddly comforted by the fact that Charlie remained in his car.

  “It’s like having my own personal stalker,” she muttered with dark humor at seven o’clock, as she turned the Open sign to Closed and locked the door.

  She carried the cash register drawer to the back office to close out and sank down into the chair at the desk.

  She was tired but didn’t want to go home. Tonight she would be alone, without Charlie. She assumed he’d probably sleep in his car in her driveway, and while the idea that he would be uncomfortable bothered her, she would not allow her emotions to manipulate her into inviting him back in.

  Let him go completely. A little voice whispered inside her head. Or grab him with both hands and hold tight. It has to be one or the other.

  Because there had been more sales than usual during the day, it took her longer than normal to close out the books. It was almost eight by the time she locked up her desk. Still she was reluctant to leave.

  She stood and stretched with her arms overhead and eyed the stack of boxes next to her desk. She should spend another hour or two unpacking the new products. There was a box of swimwear and another of beach towels and matching totes.

  It wouldn’t be long before summer was upon them. Where would Hope be this summer? Would she still be locked up in the detention center awaiting her trial, or would some evidence be found that would bring her home before the dog days of summer?

  She would need to be mother and father to Hope now. She wouldn’t be able to spend long hours here. She’d need to be available for her sister, to guide and love her.

  As much as she loved the store, she loved her sister more. Dana could take on more responsibility and Grace could be what Hope needed, what she wanted.

  She pulled the top box off the tall stack, moved it to her desk and opened it. It would take her about an hour to tag all the swimwear, and then she’d go home.

  As she worked, she kept her mind as empty of thought as possible. It was just after nine when she finished. She was just about to leave her office when she heard a knock on the back door.

  Who on earth…? She walked to the door and hesitated with her hand on the lever that would disarm the security alarm. “Who is it?” she yelled through the door.

  “Grace, it’s me, Leroy Racine. I need to talk to you. I remembered something…something about the night before William was murdered.”

  Was it possible this was the break they had been looking for? Grace disarmed the door and opened it partway to look at the big man. In the dark, she could barely discern his features. “What are you talking about?”

  “The night before William’s murder he had a visitor, a business associate of some kind. I was outside working, but I heard them yelling at each other.”

  Grace’s heart leapt with excitement as she opened the door to allow him inside. “Come on into my office,” she said, and gestured him into the chair where Rachel had sat earlier in the day.

  Leroy sank into the chair and Grace sat at her desk. “I don’t know why I didn’t remember this before,” he said.

  “So, exactly what is it that you’ve remembered?” Grace asked. She leaned forward, hoping, praying that whatever information Leroy had would point the finger of guilt away from Hope and to the real killer.

  “It’s really not what I’ve remembered as much as it is what I need to finish.” He pulled a wicked, gleaming knife and leaned forward, so close to her that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. “Tomorrow everyone will talk about how the robber who got away the other night came back here, only this time with tragic results. Don’t scream, Grace, don’t even move.”

  Leroy? Her mind struggled to make sense of what was happening. Grace stared into his dark eyes and knew she was in trouble, the kind of trouble people didn’t survive.

  Zack West’s car pulled up beside Charlie’s, and the lawman stepped out and walked up to his window. “Everything all right? You’ve been parked here for the whole day.”

  Charlie opened his car door and stepped out, his kinked muscles protesting the long hours in the car. “I’m just waiting for Grace to call it a day so I can follow her home.” He shot a glance toward the darkened storefront. “I think she’s working late on purpose just to aggravate me.” He leaned against the side of his car and frowned. “Why are women so damned complicated?”

  Zack laughed. “I don’t know. I certainly don’t always understand Kate, and we’ve been married for a while now.” Zack headed back to his car. “I just wanted to make sure everything was all right here.”

  “Everything is fine,” Charlie assured him. “I’m hoping she’s going to call it a night pretty quickly, so I can get her home safe and sound.”

  Zack nodded, then got back into his car and pulled away. Charlie folded his arms and gazed at the shop.

  How much longer was she going to be? He wouldn’t put it past her to be cooling her heels intentionally, knowing he was sitting out here waiting for her.

  Charlie had already made arrangements with Dalton West to help him keep an eye on her. Once Grace was back in her house, Dalton would take over surveillance on her place while Charlie went home and grabbed a shower and a couple of hours of sleep.

  By the time Grace woke up the next morning, Charlie would once again be on duty for the day. He didn’t care what she said. He wasn’t going to leave her unprotected until they figured out exactly what in the hell was going on.

  Eventually he’d need to figure out a way to cast her not only out of his thoughts, but out of his heart as well.

  He checked his watch, then got back into his car and leaned his head back, waiting for her to call it a night.

  Chapter 13

  “Leroy, what are you doing?” Grace’s voice was laced with the terror that coursed through her. She stared at him, trying to make sense of what was going on.

  “What am I doing?” He smiled then, a proud, boastful smile. “I’m completing a plan that’s been ten years in the making.”

  “What does that mean?” Grace slid her eyes toward the top of her desk, looking for something she could use as a weapon. Inside the drawer was a box cutter and a pair of scissors, but on top there was nothing more lethal than a ballpoint pen.

  Leroy’s eyes glittered darkly and he leaned forward, as if eager to share with her whatever
was going on in his head. “It started when I met Lana and found out she was carrying William Covington’s baby.”

  Grace gasped and stared at him incomprehensively. “What are you talking about? Lincoln is only ten years old. William and my mother were married at the time he was conceived. William wouldn’t have cheated on my mother.”

  Leroy laughed, but there was nothing pleasant in the sound. “Ah, but he did. Your mother had flown to Las Vegas to help out one of her friends who was having a difficult pregnancy. Remember? She was gone for two weeks, and on one of those nights William and my lovely wife crossed the line. It only happened once, but that was enough for her to wind up pregnant.”

  She reeled with the information. Lana and William? What Leroy said might be true, but it still didn’t illuminate everything that had happened over the last week and a half.

  The fact that he hadn’t lowered the knife and still held it tightly in his hand as if ready to thrust it into her at any moment kept a lump of fear firmly lodged in her throat.

  If she screamed, he could gut her before anyone would hear her cry for help. She thought of Charlie in his car out front and wanted to weep because she had no way of letting him know she was in danger.

  “What do you want, Leroy? Money? I have my cash drawer in the desk. Just let me unlock it and I’ll give you everything I have.”

  “Oh Grace, I definitely want money, but I’m not interested in whatever you have in that drawer,” he replied. “I’ve been a very patient man and soon my patience is all going to pay off.” He must have seen the look of confusion on her face for he laughed once again. “William’s money, Grace. That’s what I’m after. Lincoln is a Covington heir—and why should he share an inheritance when he can have it all.”

  Grace had been afraid before, but as the realization of his words penetrated her frightened fog, a new sense of terror gripped her. “You killed William? It was you? And you set up Hope to take the fall.”

  Again a proud grin lifted the corner of Leroy’s mouth. “It was genius. Your sister, she’s a creature of habit. Every morning she makes herself breakfast and drinks about a half a gallon of orange juice. That girl loves her juice.”

  “You drugged it,” Grace exclaimed.

  “It was brilliant. She went back to bed and passed out. I killed William, trashed her room, smeared her with blood and put the knife in her hand. And before she goes to trial I’ll make sure the prosecutor has all the evidence he needs to send her away for the rest of her life.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Grace cried, tears misting her vision as she tried to buy time. “Did you kill my mother, too?”

  Leroy leaned back in the chair, but the knife never wavered. “Apparently William decided to come clean to your mother about that night with Lana. The next morning your mother came to the cottage wanting to talk to Lana, but she’d taken Lincoln into Oklahoma City for a doctor’s appointment. You see, for me to make sure my stepson inherited all of William’s money, I needed to make sure nobody else was going to inherit it. Your mother was the first obstacle in the way. I strangled her, and since nobody was home at the mansion, I packed a couple of her suitcases to make it look like she took off.”

  Grace closed her eyes as grief battled with terror inside her. Reward. Charlie had been trying to figure out the true motive of William’s murder and now she knew. Money. William’s money. Leroy wanted it all not for Lincoln, but for himself. With Lincoln being underage, Leroy and Lana would be in charge of the fortune.

  What did Lana know? Was she a part of this? God, it would be the final betrayal to learn that the loving housekeeper had helped plot all these murders.

  Grace opened her eyes and realized she was going to die here now if she didn’t do something.

  “I had to bide my time after your mother died. I knew I couldn’t take out William too quickly or people would be suspicious,” he said.

  “People are suspicious,” she said, barely able to hear her own voice over the pounding of her heartbeat. “You’ll never get away with this, Leroy. When you try to collect William’s money, the suspicions will only get bigger.”

  “Suspecting and proving are two different things. William’s murder is going to be pinned on Hope. Your mother’s murder happened two years ago, and by the time I plant bugs in some people’s ears it will all make perfect sense.”

  His dark eyes gleamed bright. “You see, the way the story will go is that your mother found out about William’s night with Lana and was going to leave him. They fought and things got out of control and he killed her. Two years later, Hope began to suspect what had happened and believing that William was responsible for your mother’s death, she killed him. And you, you’re just the tragic victim of a store robbery. Nobody can tie up all the pieces so they point in my direction. You’ll all be gone and a DNA test will prove Lincoln to be a rightful heir.”

  Grace knew she was running out of time. She had to do something to escape or at least to draw attention. Once again her gaze shot around, looking for anything that might help her.

  The stacked boxes next to where he sat caught her eye. She tensed all her muscles, knowing it was very possible she’d die trying to escape him, but she would certainly be killed if she did nothing.

  Now or never, she told herself as Leroy continued bragging about how smart he’d been to pull off everything. Now or never, the words screamed through her head.

  She exploded from the chair and knocked down the stack of boxes. They toppled on top of Leroy as she ran for the door of the office, sobs of terror ripping out of her.

  The sales floor was dark, lit only by the faint security lights and the dim illumination coming through the front window. She focused on the door. If she could just get out, Charlie would be there and everything would be all right.

  She made it as far as the table display of sandals before she was tackled from behind. They both tumbled to the floor. Shoes fell on top of them as they bumped against the table.

  Leroy cursed and momentarily let go of her. Frantically Grace crawled on her hands and knees into the middle of a circular rack of blouses, swallowing her sobs in an effort to hide from him.

  If she screamed for Charlie, she would pinpoint her location to Leroy, who apparently hadn’t seen exactly where she had gone. Even if Charlie heard her scream, she was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get inside before Leroy killed her.

  She could smell the man, the sour scent of sweat. She could hear him moving around the store, hunting her like a predator stalking prey.

  Her body began a tremble she feared would move the blouses. Drawing deep, silent breaths, she tried to control the fear that threatened to erupt. She tensed as she heard Leroy’s footsteps getting closer…closer still.

  “Grace, you’re just prolonging the inevitable,” he said softly. The rack of blouses shook and despite her desire to stay silent, a slight whimper escaped her as she realized he knew where she was hiding.

  She had to scream and she had to move. It was the only way Charlie might hear her and get out of his car to check it out.

  At that moment, the knife slashed through the rack of blouses and a scream ripped out of her.

  Charlie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat of the music from his radio. He was beginning to wonder if Grace was going to spend the entire night in the store.

  Main Street had emptied of cars long ago, and most of the townspeople were now in their homes, watching television or getting ready for bed.

  Charlie would love to be getting ready for bed, especially if Grace was waiting in it. He couldn’t help but think of the last two times they made love and how he would happily spend the rest of his life loving her and only her.

  What was keeping her from him? There had been moments over the past week when he hadn’t felt the burden of their past between them and thought she’d gotten past her bitterness. He’d felt her love for him and entertained a tiny flicker of hope that there might be a future for them together.<
br />
  He rubbed a hand across his forehead, weary with the inactivity of the day and thoughts of Grace. It was done. There was no point in trying to figure out what went wrong this time. Apparently she’d never really gotten over their past and refused to even consider any future with him.

  He frowned as he saw a shadow move across the plate glass window in front of the shop. Sitting up straighter, he breathed a grateful sigh. Good, maybe she was getting ready to go home.

  He got back out of the car and stretched with his arms overhead, then shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for her to walk out the front door.

  Again he saw shadowy movement inside the store and heard a noise—a scream. Alarm rang in his head as he yanked his hands from his pockets and ran to the front door. Locked.

  “Grace?” he yelled and banged on the door with his fists. Wild with fear as he saw not one figure, but two, he looked around frantically, needing something he could use to break the door down.

  He spied a heavy flowerpot in front of the storefront next door. As soon as he grabbed it, he threw it at the window.

  The pot went through with a crash and the entire window cracked and shattered. Before the glass had cleared enough for him to get inside, Grace opened the front door.

  She was sobbing and held an arm that was bleeding. “It’s Leroy,” she cried. “Leroy Racine. He ran out the back door. Charlie, he killed them. He killed them all and he tried to kill me.”

  “Get in my car and lock the doors,” he said, refusing to look at her bloody arm. He was filled with an all-consuming rage. “Call Zack. My cell phone is on the passenger seat.”

  He pulled his gun and took off around the side of the building, knowing Leroy had to be using the alley for his escape. Leroy? As Charlie ran, a million questions raced through his head.

  Leroy was a big man, not as fast on his feet as Charlie, and on the next block from Grace’s shop he spied the man rounding a corner.

  Charlie had never wanted to catch a man more in his life. As he raced, his head filled with visions of Grace being hit over the head with an object, of her being kicked in the ribs. The rage that ripped through him knew no bounds. He wanted to kill Leroy Racine, but first he wanted to beat the hell out of him.