by Linda Warren
Becca took a couple of steps away from her.
“You couldn’t leave him alone, could you?”
Becca shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Cord. You just had to have him.”
“My relationship with Cord is none of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor.” she said the last word with disdain. “I’ve waited all my life for Cord and I’m not waiting any longer. I took care of that mousy thing he brought home from Dallas and now I’m gonna take care of you.”
One thing registered on Becca’s mind. “What did you do to Anette?”
“I warned her that if she didn’t leave, I’d hurt her.”
“And you did, didn’t you?”
A sinister smile tugged at her thin lips. “Yeah, it took me years, but I got rid of her.”
Anette had been writing about Mona, not Blanche. It had been Mona all along driving Anette to the edge—but did Anette take that final step herself?
Becca moved back still farther. “How did you manage that?”
“It was easy. I made her swallow as many pills as I could, then I forced liquor down her throat until she passed out. I should’ve done it years ago.”
She said the words with such joy that Becca began to tremble. The woman was insane. Insanely in love with Cord. And Becca was locked in this room with her.
Mona saw the fear in her eyes. “You’ve got a right to be afraid. You should’ve left when I let that bull out of the pen.”
“You did that?” She gasped.
“Yeah, Cord was so busy staring at you, he didn’t see me undo the latch.”
“And the Jeep?” she asked shakily.
She nodded. “I rode off, but I walked back. Everyone was at the pens. The cowboys were so eager to show off for you that no one noticed when I slipped under the Jeep. All it took was a couple of twists with a wrench.”
Becca was speechless. It wasn’t Joe Bates—it was Mona. She knew words were futile because the woman had completely lost touch with reality. But Becca had to talk. That was what she did best. She had to talk until someone came to help her. Cord, please hurry home.
“But it didn’t work.” She found her voice. “It only drew Cord and me closer.”
“Shut up!” Mona yelled.
“Cord hasn’t fallen in love with you in all these years and it’s not going to happen, even if you kill me.”
“He will. You’re young and pretty and you’ve turned his head. When you’re gone, he’ll come to me.”
“He didn’t when Anette died.”
“Shut up,” Mona yelled again. “I’m tired of listening to you.”
Becca swallowed, desperately searching for a way to keep Mona talking. “You said you’ve been waiting for Cord all your life, but wasn’t it Clay you loved first?”
“Yeah, I had a thing for Clay, but he wasn’t a rancher and I knew he wasn’t the man for me. Cord was different. We have the same interests, and he cares for me. Clay never did.”
“Are you sure Cord cares for you?”
“Yes,” she replied smugly. “I made up this story about a guy at the feed store I was seeing. I told Cord the guy was married, and Cord got very upset.”
“He was upset that you might get hurt,” Becca said, remembering the story Cord had told her. “Cord has a very soft heart, but he doesn’t have those feelings for you, and you know it. That’s why you made up that story.”
“Stop talking,” Mona shouted, pulling a large syringe from her pocket.
Fear became something real and vivid, and if someone didn’t come soon Becca didn’t have many choices. Mona was so much bigger, and the hope of holding her off was a pitiful dream.
“One injection and you’ll die a peaceful death.”
“What’s in the syringe?”
“Just can’t stop with the questions, can you?” Mona sneered sarcastically. “But since you’re so curious, I’ll tell you. It’s sodium pentobarbital—a euthanasia solution.”
“Where did you get something like that?”
“I had a problem a couple of months ago with a few cows having deformed calves. The vet left the drug with me in case it happened again. That way I could put the calf down myself. You see, the vet trusts me. Everyone does.”
“There’ll be an autopsy. Cord will find out what you did.”
“It can’t be traced to me,” Mona retorted. “I told the vet I used it. It’s all on paper. Besides, Joe Bates worked for a vet once. He knows how to get the drug. Everyone’ll think he did it.”
“You won’t—”
The words were cut off as Mona grabbed her by the hair and threw her onto the bed. In an instant, Mona had straddled her, clamping both of Becca’s hands in one of hers. Mona was strong, and Becca’s attempts to break free were futile.
Mona laughed, a cruel sound. “Go ahead, Doctor, fight until you don’t have any breath left. In a minute it won’t matter, anyway.”
“You can’t do this,” Becca said in a shaky voice. “Think about Nicki. She can’t take losing someone else. She’s just a little girl.”
Mona removed the plastic cap on the needle with her teeth and spit it on the floor. “She’s a nuisance and I’ll have to find a way to get rid of her, too. Ship her off to school or something ’cause I’m not having her whining around me.”
“You bitch!” Becca shouted. “You conniving, evil bitch.” She bucked and twisted and turned, determined to get away, but then she saw the needle coming toward her and she screamed with every ounce of strength she had.
BLANCHE STROLLED INTO the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, then started for the den, coffee in hand, to add a spot of brandy. She stopped abruptly and stared. Edie was lying on the floor, blood oozing from her head.
“Oh my God,” Blanche cried, dropping the coffee. It splattered all over her slacks and feet, but she didn’t notice. She threw herself down and raised Edie’s head. “Edie, what happened?”
Blood soaked through Blanche’s clothes as she cradled Edie in her arms. She jumped up and ran into the kitchen for towels and wrapped them tightly around Edie’s head. “Edie, can you hear me?”
Edie moaned.
“What happened?”
“I…came down…and someone hit me. A big person.”
“Oh God, you’re bleeding so bad. I’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
At that moment, Cord walked through the back door, feeling a lot better. Dawson had confirmed everything Blanche had said—even her fear of being kicked out of the house. Cord had had a few choice words to say to him, but the lawyer had said he’d merely made out the will. Claynourne hadn’t asked for him to enforce it. He’d said Blanche had shared a few confidences with him; that was all. He wasn’t privy to what she’d decided to do. He’d figured it was a family situation. And Cord realized it was. The thing, though, was that Blanche hadn’t lied to him about any of this. It meant a lot, but right now, he just had to see Becca.
He stopped short as he entered the den, then dropped down beside Blanche and Edie. “What the hell happened?”
Blanche wrapped another towel around Edie’s head. “I’m trying to stop the bleeding,” Blanche cried. “Call 911!”
Cord grabbed the phone from the table and dialed. “They’re on the way.” He saw that Blanche was soaked with blood and that her hands shook as she held the towels tight. He put his hands over hers.
“What happened?” he asked again.
“I don’t know.” Blanche choked out the words. “When I came in, I found her like this. She said someone hit her—a big person.”
A big person. Joe Bates.
Fear shot through Cord. “Where are Becca and Nicki?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Blanche sobbed. “Cord, I think she’s lost consciousness.”
Cord felt Edie’s pulse. “She’s still breathing. Stay with her until the ambulance gets here. I’ve got to find Becca.”
As Cord stood there, a scream echo
ed through the house. “Oh my God, what’s that?” Blanche asked.
But Cord had already left, taking the stairs three at a time. He tried Becca’s door; it was locked. Stepping back, he swung at the door with his booted foot. It splintered away from the frame and he shoved it aside and stepped in. For a second he stood motionless, unable to believe what he was seeing. Mona was holding Becca down and trying to inject something in her arm. Becca was fighting like a hellcat.
Cord grabbed Mona by the shoulders and jerked her away from Becca.
“Don’t come near me. Don’t come near me,” Mona screeched in a voice Cord had never heard. She held the needle in front of her like a weapon.
Cord didn’t know what was going on, but his main concern was Becca. He reached out an arm and gathered her close, keeping an eye on Mona. “Are you all right?” She was trembling severely, so he tightened his hold.
“Yes, yes, now I am,” Becca said in a hoarse voice.
“What’s this about?”
“She killed Anette and she was trying to kill me,” Becca managed to say.
“What!”
“It’s true,” Becca whispered. “She made Anette swallow pills, then she poured liquor down her throat until—”
“Why? Why would you do that?” Horrified, Cord stared at Mona. Her eyes were glazed and she had a feverish look.
Mona didn’t answer. She took the needle and drove it into her own arm.
“Mona!” Cord shouted but it was too late. The medicine in the syringe was gone. Her eyes rolled back as she crumpled to the floor. Cord released Becca and knelt beside the woman.
“Why, Mona? Why?”
“I’ve waited and waited…all my life. I’m the only…woman for you. I love…you.” Her head fell sideways.
Cord knelt there in shock. He and Mona were friends; they’d always been friends. He’d never led her to believe anything else. They had never even kissed, so he didn’t understand how she could have these feelings for him. Yet she’d killed Anette and almost killed Becca. How could he have been so blind? Pain ripped up from his abdomen and gripped him—so tightly that his breath locked in his chest.
Two arms slipped around him, and he clasped Becca’s hands, taking the strength and comfort she offered. After a moment, he got slowly to his feet and they moved away from Mona. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.
“Yes, a little shaken, but I’m fine.”
“It’s been Mona all along,” Cord said quietly. “Joe Bates had nothing to do with any of this.
“No,” Becca responded. “She let the bull out and loosened the brake line hoping to scare me away. And it seems she’d been harassing Anette for years, trying to get rid of her. The letter in Anette’s purse was to Mona.” Becca picked up the journal from the dresser and showed it to Cord.
Cord read for a minute then slammed it shut. “God, why didn’t Anette tell me? Why did she let this go on? I don’t understand.”
“I think she wanted to be strong enough to handle it on her own. Also, Mona threatened to hurt Nicki if she said a word to you.”
“Oh, no…”
Cord’s words were cut short by the sound of sirens.
“God, Mona must have hit Edie before she came up here. She’s bleeding heavily. Blanche is with her. We’d better see how she’s doing.”
They ran down the stairs, where they found Blanche still holding Edie’s head in her lap. Blood was everywhere. Becca immediately sank down beside Edie and took her pulse. “Was she talking to you?” she asked Blanche.
“Yes.”
“Did she make sense? Did she knew where she was?”
“Yes.”
“Her pulse is weak. Edie, can you hear me?” Becca asked loudly.
“Yes.” Edie opened her eyes and then slowly closed them.
“The ambulance is here,” Cord told her, running to open the front door.
The paramedics hurried through with a stretcher. Becca introduced herself and explained the situation. “She’s received a sharp blow to the head. She’s floating in and out of consciousness, but she’s coherent. She’ll need a c-collar and a back board to guard against trauma to the neck and spine. And I need a 4X4 to bandage her head.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the paramedic responded, and within minutes they had Edie in the ambulance.
“I’m going with you to apply direct pressure to stop any bleeding.”
“We’re trained to do that.”
Becca sent him a glance that brooked no argument. “All right, let’s just go,” the paramedic said with a sigh.
Blanche sat there trembling, and Cord helped her to her feet. “Is she gonna be all right?” Blanche asked in a trembling voice.
Becca glanced back and made an instant decision. “Come with me, and we’ll make sure she’s okay.” Blanche went with her meekly, not speaking.
“I’ll call the sheriff about Mona and take care that Nicki doesn’t see any of this,” Cord told Becca as she stepped into the ambulance beside Edie and Blanche. “I’ll see you at the hospital.”
The ride in the ambulance was a silent one. The paramedics gave Edie oxygen and started an IV. Becca checked her vital signs and found they were stronger.
“Becca, are you sure she’s alive?” Blanche asked. “She’s so still.”
“Yes, she’s just very weak, but Edie’s tough.”
“Tough as an old boot,” Blanche remarked, but Becca noticed that the resentment usually in her voice wasn’t there anymore. Could something good come out of this tragedy?
AS SOON AS HE’D CALLED the sheriff, Cord dashed out the back door, needing to find Nicki. He had to know she was okay. He met her running to the house and his first thought was relief that she hadn’t come sooner. Breathing hard, he scooped her into his arms. His little girl was safe.
“Daddy, you’re squeezing me too tight,” Nicki complained.
“Sorry, baby.” He loosened his hold immediately. “I’m just so glad to see you.”
“I’ve been roping.” She held out both hands. “My hands are getting red, and Gus said we had to stop.”
“That’s a good idea. You don’t want blisters on your hands.”
“’Kay, Daddy. Where’s Becca? I want to show her my hands.”
His heart felt heavy. He had to tell her something. “Edie had an accident and Becca went to the hospital with her.”
“What happened?” Gus asked. He’d been standing there watching.
Cord took a breath and lied. “She fell and hit her head.”
“Oh, she got an ouchie?” Nicki asked.
“Yes, she’s got an ouchie, and Daddy has to drive to the hospital to check on her. So I want you to go with Gus and—”
“No, I want to go, too,” Nicki said in a sullen voice.
“You can’t, baby. The hospital isn’t a place for children. I’m sure Gus will take you riding until Daddy gets back.”
Nicki frowned and played with a button on his shirt.
“C’mon, little bit,” Gus said in a cajoling voice. “Let’s ride to the bottom and visit the boys. Why don’t you show me how fast you can ride?”
That did the trick. Her eyes grew bright and she slipped from Cord’s arms. “I can ride real, real fast. You’ll see!” With that, she was racing to the stables.
Cord started to call her back, but Gus said, “Don’t worry. Smithy’s at the barn. He’ll watch her. What’s going on?”
Cord told him about Mona.
“God Almighty! Mona? I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, it takes some getting used to.”
The sheriff drove up with a second ambulance behind him. As Cord had directed, they parked at the front of the house. “I’ve got to go. Just take care of my child and get her away from this. I don’t want her to see a thing.”
“I will, and phone when you have news about Edie.”
Cord hurried back to the house and opened the front door for the sheriff and the coroner. Within minutes they had Mona’s body bagged an
d out of the house.
“There’ll be an inquest into Mona’s death,” the sheriff said. “It’s routine, but it has to be investigated.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll call off my boys on Joe Bates.”
“Yeah,” Cord said in a distant voice.
“Mona Tibbetts.” The sheriff shook his head. “I never would’ve thought it. She seemed like such a nice lady.”
“She had us all fooled.”
“You just never know,” the sheriff said as he walked out the door.
Cord rushed upstairs to straighten Becca’s room. The sheriff’s men had removed the syringe, but he wanted to ensure that there were absolutely no signs of what had happened.
He picked up the journal. Why hadn’t he known what Mona was doing? Was he so insensitive to Anette’s needs that he’d dismissed everything as her paranoia? He sank onto the bed. He had, in effect, helped Mona kill his wife. The truth of that hit like lightning, searing everything inside him. He couldn’t give in to those feelings now. Later, they’d tear him apart. But now he had to get to Edie—and Becca.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CORD MET BECCA AND BLANCHE as Edie was being taken up to her room. They’d had to give her blood, and the doctor said it was a good idea if she spent the night. Edie was groggy, but awake. Her head had been stitched; she was going to be fine.
Becca slid one arm around Cord’s waist. “You okay?” He didn’t answer, and she knew he wasn’t. She could feel him distancing himself from her. He had so much to deal with, so much to assimilate, and she hoped he wouldn’t push her away.
She didn’t have time to think about it as they got Edie settled into a room.
Blanche tucked in the blanket on Edie’s bed.
“Why are you being so nice, Blanche?” Edie said crossly. “You’re not staying at Triple Creek.”
Blanche paled and took a step back from the bed. Becca inhaled a deep breath. It was like dealing with two children, which was something she was good at.
“That’s not nice, Edie,” Becca told her. “If Blanche hadn’t applied those towels to your head, you would’ve lost a lot more blood and you might not have made it.”