by Sandra Brown
“They shouldn’t have.”
“I tend to agree, but the decision was made by people above my pay grade. I was investigating the sheriff. Floored me when Hank approached me with a ‘recruitment’ pitch. He had some grandiose ideas.”
“About?”
“Getting Wilcox’s list and blackmailing people, monied people, into supporting his ministry and building him into a TV megastar. Motivational superman. The person with all the answers.”
“God’s mouthpiece.”
“Essentially. This tabernacle was only the first step. He studied how Wilcox operated, saw how effectively he manipulated by instilling paranoia, and mimicked it.”
“What happened today?”
“He called and told me he was going to drive The Major home from the hospital, needed me to go with him, and dispose of the body later. I could tell he was becoming more and more unhinged, that things were coming to a head fast, so I notified the cavalry and told them to stand by, then met him here in the parking lot. When I climbed into the van, I didn’t expect you, just like Sunday night.”
“Which was full of surprises.”
“Tell me. Initially Hank told me to go alone. I was going to warn The Major of what was going on, advise him to leave town for a few days, give me and the bureau time to figure out if we had enough on Hank to make an arrest for Tiffany Wilcox’s murder and make it stick.
“But Petey was sprung on me at the last minute. Hank thought he should go along as backup. Without blowing my cover, I didn’t have time to warn The Major, except to make a lot of noise as we approached the house. I hit him in the head just to get him down, thinking I’d apologize later, and in the meantime, deal with Petey.”
“Petey was trigger-happy.”
“Till my dying day, I’ll blame myself for not realizing what he was going to do.”
By the look on his face, Kerra knew that to be true. “Petey was the one who asked how do you like being dead.”
“Yes. Then the light went out in the bathroom. I had to choose between saving the person inside it or tending to The Major, and, honestly, I thought he was already dead.”
“Thanks for not shooting me.”
“I blasted everything I could but you. Hank wasn’t happy we’d missed you and The Major. Once you were released from the hospital, Hank sent me to try again.”
She listened, appalled as he told her about hiding in the closet of her motel room. “I couldn’t let your producer discover me, or I’d have had to blow my cover.”
“What if I’d returned to my room and discovered you there?”
“That’s actually what I was hoping for. I intended to tell you who I was and what I was doing, and ask if you wouldn’t mind cooperating with your government by vanishing for a couple days and letting Hank think you were keeping Petey company in The Pit.” He chuckled. “Trapper saved me the trouble by kidnapping you.”
Turning serious again, he said, “I was afraid since I’d failed twice to get you, Hank would send someone else. Somebody like Petey, who wanted to prove his loyalty, or like the guy he sent to do the Wilcox girl. Texas Rangers got that guy, by the way. He admits to acting on Hank’s orders.
“But back to you. I was worried for your safety. I put the transmitter on your car so I could keep track. As it turned out, Trapper was cagier. He kept pulling disappearing acts with you.” He paused, then added, “He’s a pain in the ass, you know.”
She laughed softly. “Yes, I do know.”
“The bureau will be questioning you extensively about Wilcox, and you’ll probably be subpoenaed to testify against Hank.”
“That won’t be a problem.” She shuddered. “I think he’s a sociopath.”
“Well, if he’s thinking of pleading insanity, he can think again. Turns out some of his flock proved less devoted when federal agents started showing up at their doors today with warrants. They’ll turn on him in exchange for lesser charges. But all that will be overseen by people with ranks higher than mine. So, Ms. Bailey, if this is goodbye…” He offered his hand, and they shook.
“I can’t say that it’s all been a pleasure, Deputy Jenks.
He grinned with good nature. “I’ll see you on TV.” He started to move away, but she called him back.
“When did you make Trapper aware that you were FBI?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how did he know that rifle wasn’t loaded?”
The agent shrugged. “Far as he knew, it was.”
Epilogue
Kerra let herself into her apartment, dropped her keys on the console table in the entry, and set her shoulder bag on the floor. Moving into the living room, she took off her jacket, pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, and had the top two buttons undone before she saw Trapper.
He was standing in front of the glass wall, backlit by the glittering skyline, but she would know that silhouette anywhere.
“Don’t stop there,” he said. “Keep going. But leave the heels on.”
After weeks without contact of any kind, her heart surged at the sight of him. But somehow she managed to keep her tone cool and uninterested. She stepped out of her heels. “How did you get in?”
“Picked the lock.”
“How did you get into the building?”
“Told the doorman I was a building inspector for the ATF checking for fire code violations.”
“He believed that?”
“When I showed him my ID.”
“You’re back with the bureau?”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
She wasn’t fooled by his feigned nonchalance but knew it would be a mistake to comment on it. “Carson will miss you being upstairs.”
“Come Saturday, he will have been married a month. He’s going for a personal record. I told him he’d never make it if he continues to buy other women bad-girl bras. You still have it?”
“Yes.”
“You wearing it?”
“It’s hardly workday attire. I’ve spent all day with an editor—”
“Bet he liked it.”
“She and I have been editing the hour-long special I’m doing on Major Franklin Trapper.”
He dropped the teasing. “For the network?”
“It airs two weeks from Sunday and focuses on all the good he did, how he used his fame to benefit charities and educational programs. I appreciated getting your okay with a capital O.”
In the chaotic aftermath of The Major’s death, following her conversation with Jenks, she’d gone in search of Trapper. A note, and only a note, addressed to her had been lying in the hospital bed to which he’d been assigned. Okay printed in block letters, his signature scrawled across the bottom.
“I saw some of your reporting,” he said. “It was all good.”
“Thank you.”
“You gave a sanitized version of events.”
“I told the public all they needed to know.”
She had been obligated to contribute to the coverage of The Major’s death and what had led up to it, of Thomas Wilcox’s crimes dating back to even before the bombing of the Pegasus Hotel, and of the fall from grace of the vainglorious Reverend Addison.
Mention of Trapper had been kept to a minimum, and what she’d reported was a matter of record. Gracie had pressed her to “deliver the goods,” but she’d threatened to quit if Gracie kept at her, reminding the producer and everyone up the food chain that, with her present celebrity, any other outlet in the industry would be thrilled to have her. They’d backed off.
Her reports had been comprehensive, but without any exploitation or invasion of the Trapper family’s privacy.
“What’s next for you?” he asked. “New York?”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“Following this big hit, I figured you’d want to move on.”
“I like the view from here.” She motioned toward the panoply behind him.
“New York is famous for its views.”
“I like this
one.”
They stared at each other. Somehow she resisted the urge to go to him and, as though holding herself back by force, folded her arms across her waist and looked down at her bare toes as she curled them into the rug. “The burial was private.” When he didn’t say anything, she raised her head.
“I couldn’t go through all that falderal, Kerra.”
“Nor should you have had to.”
“Yeah, but it’s what everybody expected. I think the folks in Lodal feel cheated of an extravaganza.”
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”
“He’s buried beside Mom. No headstone, just a plaque.”
“No diary.”
“No diary.” He gave a rueful smile “Even he thought it was a good bluff.”
“He laughed.”
“First time in years we’d laughed together. Last time, too.”
He paused there before going on to say, “I’m glad we had that laugh.” Within minutes of it, The Major had died. Trapper had been in the ambulance with him.
Knowing how much he disliked sentimentality, she changed the subject. “Hank thought you were bluffing about the rifle.”
“The one time I was completely straight with him…”
“If you’d been wrong—”
“I knew Jenks wouldn’t have left a loaded rifle for Hank.”
“But you only played a hunch that Jenks was the undercover man. If you’d been wrong, I would have shot you. You would have died right in front of me,” she said, her voice cracking.
“True. I’m reckless. Beyond stubborn. A grab-bag of character flaws.”
“Chief among them rudeness,” she said, putting some heat behind it. “You show up here uninvited. You disappeared without saying goodbye.”
“I’m sorry about that, Kerra. Soon as they stitched my scalp—”
“You pulled a disappearing act.”
“Because the falderal was about to get underway, and I didn’t want to be trapped inside the hospital when it did.”
“I wanted to see you, Trapper. To know that you were all right, to comfort you.”
“I didn’t need platitudes and consolation.”
“I did.” She flattened her hand on her chest.
He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. The tension went out of his shoulders. “I’m a shit. Ask Gracie. She wrote it down.”
Moments ticked past. Kerra massaged her brow, got a grip. Looking at him again, she asked, “Is your head okay?”
“Carson told me you called to inquire.”
“At the very least I wanted to know if you were upright and mobile, or undergoing delicate brain surgery.”
“My head injury wasn’t serious. I heard that myself on the news. Oh, wait. Wasn’t that you reporting?”
She glowered at him.
He raised his hands to his sides in an apologetic gesture. “The scalp wound was superficial, couple of stitches. Goose egg went away in a few days.” He paused for emphasis. “But I had to get my head on straight, Kerra.”
It was an idiomatic statement, but rife with underlying meaning. Unable to stay angry with him, she said, “I understand.”
He shifted his weight, looked around the room, and when he came back to her, picked up on Hank. “I’d warned him that if he ever hit me again, he’d be preaching through dental work. His jaw’s wired shut.”
“I hope they throw the book at him.”
“It’s as good as thrown.”
“Glenn?”
“I saw him today. He’s broken over Hank, but at least he’s not behind bars. He was granted bail for health reasons, and, in terms of prosecution, he’s way down in the pecking order. He’s turning state’s evidence. Probably won’t serve time.”
“I’m sure you had something to do with all that.”
He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t admit it, either. She gave him a knowing smile. “The thing is, Trapper, you’re not a shit at all. You only want people to think you are.”
“Must be a damn good act, because most do.”
Even though there was a lot she could say to dispute that, she forfeited the point. “In case you ever showed up uninvited, I kept something for you. Come here.”
She led him into her bedroom, went to the closet, and switched on the light inside it. She dragged out a cardboard box and scooted it across the floor to the side of the bed. “I heard you put the house and land on the market and had all the furnishings auctioned off.”
“Who told you?”
“I can’t reveal a source.”
“You’re seriously going to play that card?”
“Is it true?”
“Yes. That place was never home to me, and, after everything, I knew I’d never go back.”
“Sit down. Open the box.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the lid. Inside were the photos from his bedroom in The Major’s house.
Kerra sat beside him. “I asked Jenks to collect them before the auction. I thought you might want them. If not right now, someday.”
Trapper stared down at the framed photos but didn’t touch them. His chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “I want to believe, Kerra, but…”
“Believe what?”
“That he told the truth before he died. That he wasn’t one of the bombers, and that the reason—the only reason—he’d tried to get to you through that locked door was to warn you.”
“Why else would he?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe Wilcox—”
“Trapper, you’ve got to let it go.”
“Dammit, don’t you think I want to? Don’t you think I want to believe that the man in these pictures, the dad I remember, was corrupted only by fate and fame as he said? But I’m having trouble accepting that.”
“Why?”
“Wilcox wanted you silenced. You and The Major are alone in the house. What does he do? He opens the gun cabinet and takes out that rifle. By your own admission, when you heard the shot, you thought he had fired it. By accident, maybe, but—”
“He couldn’t have fired it. It wasn’t loaded.”
He gave her a sharp look.
She said, “I thought you knew that.”
He shook his head. “How do you know?”
“Glenn Addison told me. The day I was released from the hospital. He and the Texas Rangers were questioning me. One of the details they were withholding from the public was that the rifle was found lying on the floor within The Major’s reach. Until I told him otherwise, Glenn had reasoned The Major had taken it from the cabinet when he heard intruders. Not that it would have done him any good, he said. ‘It wasn’t loaded.’”
She placed her hands on Trapper’s forearm and squeezed. “It wasn’t loaded, Trapper. The Major had no intention of harming me. He was probably replacing the gun in the cabinet when he heard Jenks and Petey Moss. He came to warn me. Accept that.” Lowering her voice, she said, “Accept that he loved you. Then start living your life. Not his.”
He looked down at the picture on the top of the stack inside the box. Trapper was missing a front tooth. He was wearing a grass-stained softball uniform, kneeling beside a trophy that was taller than he. The Major was standing behind him, hands on his shoulders, grinning widely.
Trapper gave a wistful smile and replaced the lid. After scooting the box aside, he turned to her. “I have no choice except to love him. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have met you.”
Her breath caught.
“I had to show up here uninvited, Kerra.”
She tilted her head inquisitively.
“You stopped calling Carson.”
“He was becoming irritated.” Huskily she added, “And I do have my pride.”
He gazed into her eyes for an extended time, then softly asked, “If I make a pass, are you going to hurl me through that plate glass window?”
“Only a reckless man would risk it.”
“Not reck
less. Desperate.”
“Then it’s probably worth taking the gamble.”
“Well, here goes.” He reached out and brushed his thumb back and forth across her beauty mark. “I lied when I said I didn’t need your consolation.” He slid his hand down the side of her throat, moved her collar aside, and buried his face between her neck and collarbone. “I do. I need you. I want you like hell. It’s a sickness. Carson says it’s love. He thinks it’s hysterical.”
“What do you think?”
He raised his head to look at her. “What I know is, if you don’t invite me to stick around, I’ll just have to carry you off again.”
“Stick around for how long, Trapper? An hour? A night, before you dash away again?”
“No, I’d like to stay until I’m cured of what ails me.” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “But since the thought of being without you only makes me sicker, it could be indefinite.”
“A vicious cycle. I don’t see an end to it.”
“Me either. You may want to take that into consideration before saying yes.”
She pretended to ponder it until he cursed under his breath and kissed her with enough tenderness to stir her heartstrings and enough passion to set her hormones ablaze.
The kisses continued uninterrupted as they lay back, face to face. When he finally broke apart, she gasped, “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“You know the alternative.”
“You’d carry me off?”
“Without hesitation. But not in a stolen car. And first, I’d fulfill my sex fantasy.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“To fuck you in your newslady clothes.” He put his hand under her skirt and slid it up her inner thigh, hooking his thumb in the band of her panties and tugging.
“Before you even got out of your coat and boots?”
“Hmm. That’s part of it. I only wish you’d left the high heels on.”
“Well, maybe this will make up for them.”
“What?”
Leaning up, she placed her lips against his ear and whispered, “You’re going to love this.”
She finished unbuttoning her blouse and watched his smile stretch when he saw the bra she was wearing underneath.