by Joanna Wayne
“Then you’re not kin to the woman Dani refers to as Esther?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
“I’m just basically a very curious person.”
“Sorry. I’m not basically a grouch. I just have a lot on my mind. It doesn’t excuse my behavior. No use taking my troubles out on you.”
“Apology accepted.”
She decided on a different approach. “Life in a close-knit community like Winding Creek is a novel experience for me. It seems like such a safe, friendly area.”
“It is.”
“But I heard on the news that three women are missing from this area of Texas.”
“You got me there. I’m not good about keeping up with the news.”
“Not even on social media?”
“Especially not on social media. Cowboys are men of action. We do not chat, eat quiche or drink green smoothies. That’s your Texas facts of the day.”
“I’ll be sure it makes my journal.”
By the time the Simmonses had their lattes, there were another four people in line. Dani was on the phone. Riley was bagging pastries.
Sydney and Tucker stayed silent until both Riley and Dani rejoined them.
Dani shot Riley a conspiratorial look. “I just got off the phone with Esther Kavanaugh. I told her about you needing a place to stay for a few days and she said she’d love to have you as long as you didn’t expect anything fancy.”
“She hasn’t even met me,” Sydney said.
“I have, and she knows I’m a great judge of character. Besides, the people at a B and B would never have met you, either.”
“It’s a tempting offer,” Sydney admitted. Exactly what she needed—an opportunity to start insinuating herself into the entwinements of the community. “I’ll need to see the place before I make a decision.”
“Naturally,” Dani said. “Riley and Tucker can drive you out there now. You can see the house and the ranch and Esther will have a chance to meet you.”
“I thought Tucker was supposed to be saying ‘howdy’ to a pasture full of black cows,” Sydney said.
“We’ll still have time for that,” Riley assured her.
“I can’t be gone long,” Sydney said without giving the reason why.
“You won’t have to. Riley will drive you back to town whenever you’re ready.”
Tucker didn’t say a word but he did not look pleased.
Sydney turned back to Dani. “Just one question. You barely know me, so why are you going out of your way to make sure I find the perfect place to stay?”
“I have this sixth sense about people,” Dani said. “I know immediately if I like them and if we’ll be friends. Trust me, we will be.”
Sydney understood the sixth-sense bit. Her intuition about people at first sight was frequently right on target. Right now her intuitions were making her nervous.
She had an inexplicable feeling that if she moved onto the Double K Ranch, she might be putting the three people with her at this table in danger.
But Jackson had told her to get involved. She could at least go see the accommodations.
“You’ve talked me into it,” Sydney said. “Only I’ll take my own car and follow Riley. Makes no sense for the men to have to drive me back into town.”
“I’ll call Esther and let her know you’re on your way.”
Sydney was not at all sure this was the best way to find Rachel. Perhaps working with Jackson wasn’t such a good idea after all.
* * *
RILEY DROVE AT a safe speed for following. They stayed to back roads, making a couple of turns before leaving the shops and surrounding neighborhood of homes that looked as if they might date back one hundred years or more.
Sydney studied the passing scenery. Rolling hills of fenced pastureland with cattle grazing or resting beneath the shade of spreading oaks and clusters of towering pines. Ranch homes tucked behind elaborate metal gates that appeared to welcome rather than shut out visitors.
Peaceful. Pastoral. Convivial.
Had Rachel driven down this very road, alone or already in the hands of an abductor? A hunky cowboy, perhaps, who seemed exciting until he’d turned on her.
Last night she’d imagined it might be someone like Tucker, a brooding cowboy sitting alone in a noisy bar, lost in his own troubling world.
Those were not the vibes she’d picked up today. She wondered what part the change in his looks from unkempt to ruggedly virile and handsome had played in her subconscious impressions.
Lean and muscled. Dark hair. Penetrating eyes that communicated what his mouth left unsaid.
It was difficult to imagine the man was an abductor when he seemed to want nothing to do with her. Perhaps because he had a lot on his mind as he’d said. More likely she wasn’t his type.
The ringing of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. A wave of anxiety tensed her muscles. The caller’s identity flashed across the car’s dashboard display.
Carl Upton.
Guess he’d finally found time to call her back. “Hello, Carl.”
“Glad I caught you,” he said. “I just saw a news bulletin about Rachel. It asked for anyone who knows her whereabouts to contact the police at once.”
“Did they show a picture?”
“Yes, but it was the one that was in the newspaper of her leaving the courthouse with the other winning attorneys last Friday. It’s grainy. Hard to make out her delicate features, so I don’t know how much good it’s going to do.”
“I’ll get another one to them.”
“I can’t believe I’m learning about this from a news bulletin.”
“You didn’t. Connie Ledger called you yesterday morning.”
“She said Rachel didn’t show up for work that morning. I figured she just got held up in traffic.”
“I left you a message to call me back. You didn’t.”
“I was in a meeting all day. You didn’t say it was an emergency.”
“Why would I even be calling you if it wasn’t an emergency? What else did they say in the news bulletin.”
“That it was possibly connected to some lunatic serial kidnapper.”
Sydney swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected the police to leak that possibility with no hard evidence to support it. “Did they say what brought them to that conclusion?”
“No, but this is starting to freak me out. You don’t believe she’s been kidnapped, do you?”
“I don’t have any idea what’s happened to her, Carl.”
“C’mon, Sydney. You’re FBI. You have the inside scoop. I’m just asking for a little reassurance. You don’t believe she’s being held captive or...” His voice trailed off.
“I don’t have enough facts yet to make that call,” Sydney said.
“Have you checked all the hospitals?” Carl asked. “As stressed as she was, she might have collapsed on the street somewhere.”
“How would you know that Rachel was stressed? I didn’t think you two were still communicating.”
“We were together four years, Sydney. You can’t just turn off four years of your life like it was water from a spigot.”
According to Rachel, they could and had. I’ve moved on had been her exact words.
“When was the last time you talked to Rachel?” she questioned.
“The Friday she left. I called to congratulate her on her win. That was all over the news. She got an offhand mention as being part of the defense team though not the credit I’m sure she deserved.”
“I talked to her that night, as well,” Sydney said. “She sounded relieved to me. Exhausted but relieved.”
“Well, let me know as soon as you hear something.”
“Sure. Gotta go now.”
&n
bsp; Sydney flicked on her blinker and took the same left turn Riley had. She’d go through with the visit to the Double K Ranch, but she’d be counting the minutes until she met with Jackson Clark.
If nothing else, he had an identification on the murdered woman. One piece of the puzzle was better than none.
The fear hit again, knotting in her stomach and hammering at both temples as they reached the gate for the Double K Ranch.
* * *
TRAPPED IN THE DARK, dingy dungeon, with nothing new to look at, Rachel was forced to rely on her other senses to remain sane and focused. She knew the monster’s footsteps, clunking as if he were stamping around in the Western boots he’d been wearing every time he’d brought her food.
She wasn’t sure if he was a real cowboy or just dressed the part. She wasn’t sure of anything about him except that he was mentally unstable.
Sometimes he sat down and talked to her like they were old friends, but then out of nowhere, he’d start screaming at her, almost as if there were two men living inside his head.
The dark, dank environment made her surmise she was walled off in a back corner of a basement. The early warning that he was coming was the creaking of the stairs as he descended.
But at times she heard other footsteps and voices. She feared there were other prisoners locked up in this hellhole. She’d tried calling out once, but he’d heard her and punished her with no food until she was so hungry she could barely function.
Rachel rolled off her pallet and pulled herself to a standing position. The aches were not as unbearable as they’d been when she’d first regained consciousness but movement was still painful. The good news was that she’d improved enough that while much of her body was bruised and swollen, she was almost certain there were no broken bones or serious internal injuries.
She held on to the wall as she walked barefoot on the hard cement floor. If she didn’t get some exercise her cramped muscles would atrophy.
She’d only made it halfway across the narrow space when she heard the thump-thump-thump of approaching footsteps on the stairs. She froze in place. He was coming.
Anxiety swelled in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She never knew what to expect from his visits and the uncertainty was just another layer of the torture.
Sometimes, he just set her food on the floor and left without even looking at her. Other times, he stared silently at her as if she were a vile, disgusting serpent that had slithered into his space.
This time it sounded as if he were dragging something down the stairs with him. She moved to the door and pressed her right ear against it.
There were shuffling noises and then what sounded like the scrape of a door being opened.
Not her door.
“Help me. Someone, please help me.”
The shrill cry was followed by what sounded like something—or someone—being hurled against a wall.
Rachel’s hell had apparently gained a new guest. The monster was increasing his menagerie.
Chapter Seven
If Sydney had been telling the truth about wanting to explore the charms of the Texas Hill Country for a travel article, she would have just hit a bases-loaded home run. Riley stopped his truck in front of Esther Kavanaugh’s house and she pulled in behind him.
She got out and stood for a moment, absorbing the environment. Esther Kavanaugh’s sprawling white clapboard house with its dark green front door and shutters blended in with the pastoral environment. It was neither imposing nor elaborate, but had that lived-in look, warm and welcoming.
A wide porch was accented by two large wooden rockers cozied up to a round wooden table. An inviting porch swing scattered with small, colorful pillows encouraged sitting and staying awhile. Pots of blooming marigolds, vinca and geraniums added color.
A hanging hummingbird feeder was getting lots of use and butterflies fluttered among the lantana that seemed to be taking over the garden that bordered the railed porch.
Both men waited until she joined them. They walked together along the slightly cracked path to the porch.
Tucker opened the unlocked door and held it for her to enter.
“Don’t you think you should knock first?” Sydney asked.
“We’re family,” Riley said. “Well, not biologically, but in all the ways that really matter.”
Sydney would have still knocked before just walking in, not that she knew anyone who left their house wide-open.
“You should caution her to leave her door locked,” Sydney said. She’d seen too much violence in her job to ever be that trusting.
“She’s expecting us,” Riley said. “I’m surprised she wasn’t on the porch waiting to greet us as much as she loves company.”
“I can see how someone could get lonesome out here with no neighbors.”
“She’s got plenty of neighbors,” Tucker said. “They’re just not in hollering distance. They’re there if you need them.”
“Plenty of neighbors and friends,” Riley added. “And she has the full lowdown on all of them. There are no secrets in a town the size of Winding Creek.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that.”
Tucker led the way through the house, walking too fast to allow Sydney a good look at the interior. What she saw she liked.
If the comfortable furniture, hooked rugs and collection of framed pictures were any indication of Esther’s personality, Sydney could see why Dani was so fond of her.
“You’ve got company, Esther.” Tucker’s call went unanswered.
“She’s probably in the garden or down at the chicken pen,” Riley said. “You two can stay out of the heat. I’ll go let her know we’re here.”
He walked out the back door, leaving them alone together again. Tucker stood at the back window that looked out over a pumpkin patch not quite ready for harvest. Not surprisingly ignoring her.
She walked over and stood beside him, aware too quickly of his woodsy, musky scent. His virility gave him a presence that never let her forget he was all man. Strange, since she was used to a testosterone overload in her work environment.
It must be the cowboy mystique or the situation that affected her awareness of him. She had no idea what made him react so negatively toward her.
“If my staying here is going to make you uncomfortable, I’ll make other plans.”
He turned to face her. “Why do you think you make me uncomfortable?”
“You avoid talking to me.”
“I’m not much in the mood for making small talk right now. It has nothing to do with you, so don’t take it personally.”
“Okay. Does that mean you don’t mind my staying here?”
“Not at all. Given a choice, I can’t imagine you’d want to stay anywhere else. I guarantee you’ll feel the same once you get to know Esther.”
“And yet you’re in a huge hurry to cut out again?”
“I have business to take care of.”
His phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, answering as he walked out of the room.
“Hello, Lauren.”
That was all she heard before he was out of hearing distance, but the strain in his hello was a good indication that Lauren might be part of his problem. Possibly relationship trouble. That would explain a lot.
Not that she knew a lot about that. She’d never been in a serious relationship. She’d tried to convince herself she was serious about a guy a few times, but she’d only been lying to herself.
Apparently, Rachel had done the same with Carl Upton. Gone through the motions of being in love long after she’d realized she wasn’t. How else would they have moved on so quickly after living together for four years?
Tucker returned just as Esther and Riley arrived back at the kitchen. Esther’s smile lit up the room the secon
d her plump body swayed into the kitchen. She set the basket of late-summer vegetables she was carrying on the counter.
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. It’s so hot out there I was afraid these were going to cook on the vines instead of in the pot.”
“Please don’t apologize,” Sydney said. “It’s more like I’m busting in on you and disrupting your day.”
“Land sakes, honey, I’ve got nothing but time these days. Even the chickens are getting tired of seeing me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
Esther rubbed the palms of her hands on her jeans and extended the right one to Sydney. “I’m Esther Kavanaugh, queen of the garden and chief cook and bottle washer.”
“I’m Syd Cotton. Struggling freelancer and temporarily homeless.”
“That’s what Dani said. You obviously made an impression on her. She was eager to make sure you have a good stay in Winding Creek.”
“For sure I’ll be several pounds heavier when I leave here if I spend much time in her bakery.”
“Or here,” Riley said. “Wait till you taste Esther’s biscuits. And her peach cobbler won first place in the town’s pie and cobbler making contest last month.”
“Yes, but my coconut meringue pie only came in second.”
“Biased judges,” Tucker teased.
“My house is nothing fancy,” Esther said, “but the beds are comfortable and the water’s hot. Plenty of space for privacy and spreading out. I’ve got rooms that have been empty so long the flowers in the wallpaper are starting to droop.”
“You two seem to be hitting it off,” Riley said. “Syd says she’s short on time, so why don’t you go ahead and show her around. Pierce needs some mechanical help with his tractor again. I’ll hang around with them and watch Tucker get his hands greasy.”
“There is one thing,” Tucker said. “Since you’re a stranger around here, if you two do come to an agreement, Esther will need references.”
“Of course.” Syd Cotton would have the best. Lane would see to that.
Esther shook her head. “I’m not selling her the house, Tucker. If I want to have Syd as a houseguest, I guess that’s my business.”