Or on top of him, as the case may be. With mint-chocolate-cream filling drizzling from a spoon. His lips twitched with a grin. The things that woman could do with dessert.
“So, will there be anything else?” the lawyer asked, jerking Luke from his most delicious memory.
“Actually, yes.” Luke stood and stretched. “The lot directly behind mine on Summit Avenue has been offered for sale. I’ve made arrangements with the owner to buy it. I need you to see to the paperwork for me.”
“Certainly, Mr. Garrett.”
They discussed Luke’s wishes regarding financial terms for the purchase, then Luke took his leave. Standing on Main Street across from the Tarrant County courthouse, he checked his pocket watch. Twenty minutes before his next appointment. Good. That gave him just time enough to breeze by his lodging and retrieve his wish list for the house he wanted to build for Mari. Undoubtedly his architect, her father, had plenty of ideas about what would best suit his second-born daughter.
“Like separate his-and-her bedrooms, built at opposite ends of the house,” Luke grumbled as he glanced toward the throng of men milling around the jailhouse. Trace McBride thawed about as fast as a glacier. If he had his way, instead of being two weeks off, Luke’s wedding day would be set for the turn of the century, if that.
An angry shout from the crowd down the block snagged his attention, and Luke decided to take the long way home, detouring by the jailhouse to see what was causing the ruckus. What he discovered turned his blood cold.
“Jailbreak?” he repeated to a bystander, dread pooling in his gut.
“Yep. They’re saying it must have been the Brazos Valley gang. Shot two men dead, wounded three others.”
“Did their evil right in the big middle of the day. Do those fellas fear no one?”
Luke ignored the question; he already knew the answer. His feet were already making an about-face to find Mari.
“You joining the posse, mister?” the stranger asked. “They’ll be leaving in minutes. Goin’ north. That’s the direction the outlaws headed. The marshal hopes to catch up with ’em before they reach Grapevine.”
Luke shook his head, his mind on the message sent to him via Jared Harper. Cold fingers of fear crawled up his spine. I know your weakness.
Mari. He had to get to Mari.
“It’s stupid to worry,” he told himself as he broke into a run. Murphy wouldn’t have had his gang break him out of jail just so he could hang around town and wreak his revenge on Luke and Mari. The man would have to be crazy to do that.
But Finn Murphy was crazy. Luke increased his pace. Within minutes, he rounded a corner and Indulgences came into view. Luke’s mouth was dry. His heart pounded as if he’d run eight miles instead of eight blocks. She’s there. She’s inside. She’s safe and sound.
The sign in the window read Closed.
Luke’s heart skipped a beat. He muttered a foul curse and put on a burst of speed that carried him to the chocolate shop’s front door. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. Nothing. Locked up tight. Drawing his gun, he kicked the door in and stepped into the candy shop. “Maribeth?”
Evil tainted the air. He could feel it on the back of his neck, smell the stench of it all around him. His finger twitched on the trigger as he moved on silent feet to the front of the shop.
The sight that met his eyes took his breath away. Mari’s necklace dangled from a blade of the slowly turning ceiling fan.
I know your weakness.
Luke closed his eyes and staggered beneath the weight of the fear that turned his boots to lead. For a long moment, he couldn’t think. Couldn’t react. Bone-deep terror unlike any he’d known before gripped him.
A violent pounding sounded on the back door, yanking him back to reality. “Maribeth?” Trace McBride called. “Are you in there?” Pound, pound, pound. “Open the door, sweetheart.”
Luke flipped the lock and tugged the door open.
Relief in his tone, Trace said, “Thank God. I was worried. Did you hear that Finn—”
“He’s got her,” Luke said, his voice rusty. He pointed toward the necklace. “He’s got her and this time, he won’t let her take him by surprise.”
“Oh, God.” Trace, reacting much like Luke had, stood frozen in horror.
“We need to find her, McBride. Right away. We need to organize…” Luke’s voice trailed off as he noted something out of place in Mari’s candy kitchen. Why was a bowie knife sitting next to Mari’s sugar canister? A knife that looked hauntingly familiar?
Rory, what the hell have you done?
The knife lay atop a page torn from a recipe book. Scratched across the page in pencil in his brother’s handwriting were the words Finn took Mari hostage. I’ll lay a trail. Hurry!
“Goddammit, Rory, you stupid son of a bitch,” Luke muttered as he handed the note to Trace. His brother was no match for the likes of Finn Murphy.
“This is from your brother?” Trace asked. “What is he doing with Finn Murphy? Was he part of this? Did he help break that bastard out of jail?”
“No,” Luke said, hoping, praying that was true. “Rory wouldn’t do that. He and Finn had a falling-out months ago. He’d have no reason to pull a stunt like that.”
Not unless Rory’s precious altar cross was somehow involved.
MARI CAME to slowly. Her mind was mushy and it took her a moment to recall what had happened. She’d made a chocolate bar out of Luke, then…what?
Memory returned like a nightmare. The tray of chocolates falling. Finn Murphy’s mouth stretched into an evil smile as he pointed a revolver at her head. “Hello, darlin’. I’m here for somethin’ sweet.”
She’d expected to feel a bullet, but instead, he’d raised the gun and brought the butt down upon her head. She remembered nothing more after that.
So where am I now? She knew she was alive. Her head hurt too bad for her to be dead. She lay stretched out on her back, and she couldn’t move her arms or her legs. Something gagged her mouth. A cloth. It tasted of sweat. She opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see. Something lay atop her body. Something scratchy that smelled like…was it onions? Yes. Onions. Onion sacks. She was hidden beneath burlap onion sacks.
I’m in a wagon and my ankles and wrists are tied with rope.
She’d been abducted by Finn Murphy. Again.
Fear washed over her like a cold winter rain. This time, he’ll kill me.
She couldn’t tell how long she’d been out. Hours, perhaps. Had night fallen? She sensed no sunshine beaming down upon her, and she heard the drone of cicadas all around her. No sounds of town. They were out in the country traveling a bumpy, rutted road.
Then, to Mari’s shock, she heard a familiar voice. “I’m telling you, Finn,” said Rory Callahan. “Taking a hostage was a mistake. Especially this particular hostage. It’s bad enough you’re gonna have every lawman in the state after your hide, now we’re gonna have Luke on our ass.”
“I owe him.”
“This wasn’t part of our deal. I wasn’t counting on crossing my brother again. I’m not sure getting my hands on that treasure is worth it. What good will it do me if I’m dead?”
“Just shut up and drive the wagon. I’m not comfortable out here in the open. Somebody might see us.”
“We’ve already been seen and the disguise worked like a charm. Nobody’s gonna recognize you. Who’d ever connect Finn Murphy with a priest?”
“Shut up!”
Rory took the hint. Mari’s mind spun. What deal? Had Rory helped Murphy escape from jail? He must have. Murphy must have promised him he’d help recover the treasure. That stupid pirate treasure. Look at how much trouble it had caused, to so many different people. Better for everyone if it had just stayed buried.
Fear nibbled at the edge of Mari’s thoughts as she tried to plan a way to save herself. Was this a flatbed wagon? Could she roll herself off the back without being noticed? Or should she look for a way to loosen her ropes? Take the men by surprise when they came to do
whatever nefarious deed they had planned.
Mari feared she knew what that plan might be. After all, last time, Finn Murphy intended rape.
I won’t let it happen, she told herself. She’d stopped him once before, hadn’t she? She could do it again. She would stop him again. Or die trying.
Except she didn’t want to die. She had too much to live for now.
Mari gathered her thoughts. Had he searched her pockets? Maybe the two on the outside of her skirt, but not the hidden one in the seam, she’d bet. What was in there? Anything to use as a weapon? A handkerchief. A stubby pencil. Emma’s necklace.
Emma’s necklace! She’d never made it to the jewelry store, so she still had Emma’s necklace.
In that fact, Mari found comfort. The necklaces were special, magical. The necklaces were good luck. Somehow, having it would help her. She knew it in her heart.
Moving as quietly as possible, making the best of her limited mobility, Mari searched the wagon bed for a sharp edge, anything she could use to cut the rope binding her hands. Nothing. Desperate, she did manage to work free one of the ever-present safety pins fastened to her hem. With the pin in hand, she continued to search, her concentration so focused on her task that at first she didn’t notice the slowing of the wagon.
“Here it is,” Rory said, blowing a relieved sigh. “The turnoff to the old place. I haven’t been out here for years. I was half afraid I wouldn’t remember the way. Sure hope your men found their way here all right. If our getaway horses aren’t here, we’ll be up the creek.”
“They’ll be here,” Murphy said.
“Look, Finn. There’s that big old flat rock Janna liked to picnic on. That’s a good place to leave Mari. Since we got clean away, we don’t need a hostage anymore.”
“Just drive on to the old place, Rory.”
“But—”
“Drive.”
The menace in his voice caused Mari’s pulse to race. Whatever he had planned for her, it would happen at the old place. No way would she work free of her bindings before they arrived. All she had for a weapon was her mind and a safety pin. Not much better than last time. But she’d survived then. She’d survive now.
Less than five minutes later, Rory hollered, “Whoa, there, fellas. Whoa.”
The wagon rolled to a stop and Mari braced herself.
“You want to check on the horses?” Rory asked. “I’ll see to Maribeth.”
“I don’t think so.” Evil glee hung in the outlaw’s voice. “The little lady is all mine.”
Mari went stiff when Finn Murphy grabbed her feet and pulled her out from beneath the burlap bags covering her face and body to the end of the wagon. For just a second, Mari saw the beauty of a multitude of stars against an inky sky, then he hoisted her over his shoulder and she saw nothing but shadows on the ground.
Rory exclaimed, “Wait a minute, Finn! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Oh, Miss McBride knows what I’m doing. Don’t ya, darlin’?” He swatted her hard on the rear. “We have old business to finish.”
Mari struggled. With her hands secured, the pin was of little help. When she realized Murphy was enjoying her wiggling, she went still as a possum.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” Murphy said. “Before I’m done, you’re gonna wish you’d died out there by the pond that day.”
He stepped across a threshold of some sort. Mari heard a match flare and lantern glass rattle. A wick caught and a soft yellow glow illuminated the room. “I had my men lay in a few supplies. They outta be around here somewhere. Yep, there it is. That’s the important one.” He tossed her onto a bed and laughed maniacally. “It’s the cactus I ordered.”
Inside, Mari trembled, but she was determined not to show fear.
Murphy rubbed his crotch. Again and again. Then he frowned and stroked it harder. “Goddamned bitch. You’re gonna pay for what you did to me. I’m taking my manhood back, right here, right now!”
“No!” Rory Callahan stood in the doorway, a Colt revolver aimed at Murphy. The hand holding the gun visibly trembled, but his eyes glowed with angry determination. “This wasn’t the deal, Finn. You’re not gonna hurt her.”
“Put the gun down, kid. You’re not gonna shoot me.”
“I don’t want to shoot you. Finn, you’re my brother. You’re family, but I can’t let you do this. She’s Kat’s sister. I won’t allow you to hurt her.”
Finn Murphy slowly looked around. “Do you honestly think you can stop me? You? Jesus, Rory. You’re dumber than dirt. Always have been.”
Moving like lightning, Murphy drew his gun and shot Rory Callahan low in the torso.
Mari gasped in horror as Rory clutched his belly and dropped to his knees. Murphy advanced on him, snarling. “I used you to get out of jail, you stupid shit. Not to hunt down Kimball and find some goddamned pirate treasure.” He turned his head and spit on the floor.
“You’ve killed me,” Rory said, disbelief in both tone and expression, even as he fell the rest of the way to the floor. “Finn, we’re family.”
Murphy glared down at Rory in disgust. “You brought it on yourself, Rory. You brought it on yourself.” He turned his back on the man he had shot, and focused his attention once again on Mari. “Well, shit. Now it stinks like death in here. I don’t like that smell. I’m not gonna be able…shit.”
Murphy shoved his gun back into his holster. “Not what I had planned,” he grumbled. “Not what I had planned at all.”
His own family. He murdered a member of his own family. He’s mad. True terror, sharp as a razor, sliced through Mari.
The villain stood for a moment, thinking. Tears spilled from Mari’s eyes at Rory’s final words. “Tell Kat…I’m sorry,” he said. “Tell her the…the…treasure…baby…find Kimball. He has the cross.”
Murphy muttered a curse, then once again hoisted Mari over his shoulder. He stepped over Rory’s prone body and stomped away from the dilapidated house. Gagged and unable to speak, Mari lifted her head and locked her gaze on Rory’s. God’s peace be with you, she silently said.
Lying in the doorway bleeding to death, Luke’s half-brother smiled.
Murphy toted her into the trees, out of sight of the house, mumbling as he went. “Goddamned fool. Why’d he make me do that? Stupid shit. Ruined my fun with you. Ruined my revenge. Pecker damned well better work next time I try to use it, or I swear I’ll dig him up and shoot him again.”
He carried her for what seemed like hours but what was probably less than ten minutes. She still had the safety pin clutched in her fist. She hoped she had the chance to use it against him somehow.
“At least I’ll have my revenge on Luke,” Murphy grumbled. “He’ll never find your body, and it’ll plague him the rest of his life. That’s a lot better than killing you outright for him to find. I’m gonna enjoy thinkin’ about it when I’m living down there in Bolivia. I’ll get me some tequila and a good cigar and one of them Spanish gals. That’ll heal me. It doesn’t have to be you.”
Abruptly, Murphy stopped. “Here we are. Down you go, bitch.”
As he bent forward to shift her weight over his head, Mari made her move. She twisted her body violently, throwing him off balance. She gouged him with the sharp pin and he screamed. She’d gotten his eye.
“Aargh!” he hollered, grabbing at her. His hand ripped her dress. She felt the seam tear and the necklace spill from the hidden pocket. Then he was pushing her, shoving her forward. “Die, bitch. Fall down that hole and die. Hope you take good and long to do it, too. No one’s ever gonna find you.”
The solid ground beneath her feet gave way and Mari fell down, down, down into pitch-black darkness. She hit hard and once more, the world went black.
LUKE’S HEART leaped when he spied the lantern light burning at the old homestead. Had he guessed right? Please, God. Let him have guessed right. He’d lost the trail with the sunlight and had gambled on where they might have gone. It made a crazy sort of sense for Murphy to bri
ng Mari here to Luke’s childhood home to perpetrate his undoubtedly evil attentions on her. It was scene-setting that would appeal to a man like Finn Murphy.
McBride had agreed with the idea to press on to the homestead, and he rode with Luke, silent, his visage grim.
“I think that’s the house,” Luke told him. “See the light?”
“Off to the north? Four, five hundred yards?”
“Yeah. My sister still owns the land. Shouldn’t be anyone there unless squatters have set up house.”
“How do you want to play it? Shall we go in afoot? Ride right in? What do you think is best?”
Luke reviewed what he knew about Finn Murphy. Considered the surprise Rory had thrown him today. “I don’t think we have a minute to lose, but if we can surprise them, Mari is bound to be better off.”
“Afoot, then.”
A hundred yards out, Luke lifted his hand, signaling Trace to stop. They tethered their horses to an oak tree, then each man grabbed a rifle from his saddle. Luke strapped a bowie knife around his thigh and he wore a pair of revolvers on his gun belt. Trace had a pistol strapped on his right hip.
Luke looked at Trace and nodded once. Silently and steadily, they moved toward the light. Hold on, Mari. We’re almost there. Hold on.
As they reached the top of a rise overlooking the cabin below, Luke dropped low and gestured for Trace to do the same. They crab-walked the last few feet, then just as Luke lifted his face to peer down upon the cabin, a gunshot split the night.
A man screamed.
Luke leaped to his feet and started running, Trace following right behind him. He spied Finn Murphy lying face down on the ground, but he didn’t so much as pause.
Rory sat propped in the doorway, a bloodstain the size of a dinner plate on his shirt. Smoke rose from the barrel of the gun beside him. Moonlight and blood loss had turned his complexion an unearthly white. Rory!
Luke’s heart thundered as he looked past his brother into the house. The empty house. “Mari. Where’s Mari, Rory?”
A single tear spilled from Rory’s eye and trailed down his cheek. “He got me good. Sorry, Luke. Sorry about Mari. Sorry I couldn’t save her.”
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