Lucky Ride (The Lucky O'Toole Vegas Adventure Series Book 8)

by Deborah Coonts

  “He’s not who you think he is. You have to trust me. Don’t be fooled.”

  “What about Poppy?”

  Ah, the wild card. Was Poppy a good witch or a bad witch? “We’ll get her, too. How much did she know?”

  “She knew about you and Mona.”

  “Did you tell anyone else?”

  She ducked her head. “No.”

  “I need the truth.”

  She stared straight into my eyes. “I’m telling the truth.”

  I believed her, not that it mattered. “Okay. Stay close and do what I tell you to. No arguments, okay?”

  She nodded, her face serious.

  “And no ad-libbing.”

  Her agreement to that was less than enthusiastic.

  I turned and looked around the rock. All clear. “Follow me.”

  I followed the line of the ridge—not the safest route but the one that had the most protection. Feeling my way in the half-light of the moon and distant memories, I fought the urge to hurry.

  We’d be in time. We had to be.

  A calmness settled over me. A coldness. And I knew I could kill.

  All that separated me from Doc Latham was motivation.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE night cocooned around us. With my heart pounding in my ears, it was hard to hear, so I paused several times. On the third pause, I heard them. Actually, I heard him. A male voice, low and menacing, that raised my hackles. But he wouldn’t be talking to himself.

  Mona was alive.

  As if Bethany could sense my next move, she slowed as I did. Care was important now that we were close enough to hear…and be heard. After what seemed like an eternity, I peeked around the last rock and could see them.

  Unbound, Mona balanced on the precipice. Latham, gun in hand, stood back twenty feet or so. A bandage still wrapped his head. He stooped a bit, softening his shoulders to cradle his head. I bet it still hurt like a mother. The thought made me happy.

  Poppy sat against a rock on the far side. Her hands behind her, she looked as if he’d tied her up, but from here it was hard to tell.

  Latham spoke to Mona in a low voice, ugly and filled with menace and anger. “Never expected to see me again, did you?”

  Mona didn’t give him the satisfaction of showing her fear. Shoulders back, head high, she stared at him. “It’s not surprising, really. Even the Devil didn’t want you.”

  Oh, good line, Mother. Keep him talking.

  He laughed. “Yeah, he couldn’t handle the competition.” The laugh died quickly. “I’ve been looking for you for years. You were the one loose end. But it was like you’d disappeared off the planet.”

  “I changed my name. Moved.”

  He snorted. “Became a hooker after I’d had my way with you.”

  “I was thirteen when you raped me.”

  Whoa. I tried not to think about all that, what had happened to my mother. She’d been just a kid. Latham wasn’t a lot older than she—he must’ve been a kid, too. This explained a lot, actually.

  “Doc, you have to stop this!” Poppy, her voice wild and afraid, called from the shadows. “You said I was—”

  “I know what I said.” Latham cut here off, not a hint of warmth.

  Okay, a true sociopath. So not good. Since talking him out of the tree wasn’t an option, how were we going to immobilize him?

  I analyzed the setup, working through my options.

  Expecting to see Romeo somewhere behind Latham, I looked but didn’t see him. Either he was there or would be soon.

  “Doc! We can move. Go somewhere she’ll never find us.”

  Wait? What? My skin crawled. What kind of relationship did they have? Latham had raped a child…

  Latham prowled. Mona appeared composed—not resigned, just in the moment, which surprised me. She so loved to play the part of the victim.

  I reached behind me to pull Bethany closer so I could whisper to her. My hand found nothing but air. I whipped my head around.

  The girl was gone.

  Fuck!

  I scanned the area, waiting for a glimpse of her moving between rocks. Nothing. But I knew where she was going—to her friend. If she passed Romeo, I hope he shot her. Okay, not really, but…

  Mona lowered her chin and gave Latham a stare. “I killed you once. This time I’ll do it right.” That sounded like my brand of bullshit.

  He waggled the gun at her. “Give it your best shot.” He laughed at an old joke. “Oh, wait. You’ve already done that. And here I am. Bet I haunted your dreams.” He sounded like he liked that idea.

  “I’d forgotten you.” Those words were the most grievous of all. Mona had to know that—men were her only area of expertise.

  Okay, so she was escalating, feeding his anger, hoping he made a mistake. Her words had the ring of truth to them, like she really had forgotten.

  I’m a woman. And no woman ever forgets being forced.

  “But your sister didn’t. Watching me and you made her crazy, didn’t it?”

  I could see Mona pull herself taller, steeling against the hurt.

  “She was the one I really wanted. You know that, don’t you? But you fought.”

  “You found her anyway.”

  “Yeah, every time I’d come home, I’d look for her and you. You two were the ones who got away. The others didn’t. I needed to fix that, but you were hard to find. I found her first.”

  “When you found my sister, why’d you rape her and leave her like that?”

  He shrugged. “I took what I’d always wanted. Couldn’t believe it when I saw her. It was like no time had passed. I’d finally found her. And I wanted to make her pay. You remember, don’t you?”

  “You’d come with your father to the sanitarium. You blew back into town like you always did, fresh from incarceration somewhere. One day, you saw her.” Mona was dragging the story out and confirming my guesses. “My sister got crazier and crazier, talking about a man from the past who visited her each night.”

  “Nobody would believe a crazy woman, right?” He smiled at the irony.

  “But I did.”

  Latham’s grin turned into a snarl. “You put a blade in my chest, then dumped me by the pond behind the stables.”

  “I should’ve stabbed you again to make sure. Next time, I will.”

  He lowered the gun. His finger through the trigger guard, he held it out to her. “You’ll have to get the gun away from me, though.”

  She held her ground for longer than I thought she would. Then she skittered to one side. He darted that way, cutting off her escape. She tried the other side, but he was too fast.

  Head held high, staring straight at him, she dug in. As he closed on her, she flinched, then took an involuntary step back in self-preservation.

  The ground crumbled from under her foot.

  My breath stuck in my throat.

  Windmilling her arms, she fought to find a foothold.

  Latham lowered his gun, letting his arm hang at his side. With an evil grin, he reached out to give her the final push.

  “No!” I rushed from my hiding place, running as if my heart would burst.

  Surprise registering, Latham stepped back.

  As Mona’s leg slipped from beneath her, carrying her over the drop, I leaped.

  I grabbed her hand. She held tight.

  Falling to my knees, I added my other hand, gripping hard to hers. My arms straight, my toes and knees dug into the scree, I leaned back as her weight hit me with the power of a freight train.

  Somehow, I held on.

  Me on my knees. My mother hanging over a drop to sure death.

  Not good.

  Time stopped.

  “Lucky,” my mother breathed. “Go home.”

  For some reason, that made me laugh.

  “Neither of you is going anywhere.”

  Holding my balance point against my mother’s weight, unable to pull her up, I turned to look at Latham. He pointed the gun at me with an arrogance that
gave me hope.

  Romeo had overshot his position by a fraction. I could see the moon of his face over Latham’s right shoulder, then he disappeared. He needed a better angle for his shot.

  Bethany every now and again peeked out from behind Poppy, as she worked on the rope binding her friend. I prayed Poppy wasn’t a chip off the old block.

  I needed to buy time, but I knew in my gut, I had nothing to barter with.

  Nothing but the truth. I hoped Hollywood was right.

  “This time when you blew back into town, you and Dora decided it was time to spring the blackmail trap on Mona here, didn’t you, Mr. Dean?” I couldn’t see his surprise, but I hoped I had his attention. “That’s right, I know who you are. You’re Doctor Dean’s son. But you’re not a vet; you’re a felon with a long rap sheet. Riding around with your father, you learned just enough to fake it. And then, Dora Bates saw you. She knew what you’d done.”

  “The bitch was going to rat on me.”

  Ah, I did have his attention. “So, she bartered with all she had, and to you it was everything. She let you into her scheme. She falsified records to get you the vet gig. But that wasn’t enough, was it?” I looked at my mother. My arm was shaking with the effort to hold her. My back screamed, but my strength held.

  “The bitch was holding out on me.”

  “But you convinced her that was unwise.” Sweat trickled down, stinging my eyes. I couldn’t hold on much longer. Romeo, hurry!

  “I reminded her who she was dealing with.”

  “So, she gave you my mother.”

  “Let go,” my mother hissed. “I couldn’t bear life without you in it.”

  I didn’t want to remind her that, right now, if I died, she would die too, but I appreciated the sentiment—the most I’d gotten from my mother in I don’t know when. “You love me?”

  “Of course. Stop playing; this is serious.” Distress aged her features.

  “Dead serious.” I closed my eyes and summoned what strength I had left. Throwing my back into it and my weight against hers, I pulled with everything I had. She inched higher. I gained momentum.

  “This is fun,” Latham said, sounding the opposite.

  I paused to catch my breath. Mother tried to worm her hand from mine. “Don’t you dare,” I said so only she could hear it. I glanced to my right—Bethany was still working on the ropes. Had the girl heard enough? Had both of them?

  “And when Dora was going to spring the trap, you killed her. You had the information you wanted.”

  “It’s my game now.”

  “And you cut the ball off her jacket and planted it in the stall when you tried to kill Poppy’s horse.” I pulled in deep lungsful of air. “You set up Beckham, knowing he’d recognize it and come charging to find Dora. But she was already dead.”

  “You’re very clever.”

  Clever for sure—that’s why I found myself holding my mother over an abyss with a gun pointed at my back. But I didn’t argue.

  I pulled, this time even harder.

  “Stop!” Latham ordered, his voice hard, cold.

  I didn’t look at him. I blinked against the sting of sweat and pulled harder.

  A shot split the night. I yowled as the bullet hit my calf. Pain blinded me. My hand slipped…

  “Do as he says, Lucky.” My mother’s voice, strong and sure.

  “Not. On. Your. Life.” I punctuated each word with a hiss of air in through my teeth. Now the ass had made me mad.

  Fighting the white-hot sear of pain, using it, I gave my mother a steely grin and pulled.

  She inched higher.

  I didn’t look behind me. I could feel my mother rising.

  “No!” Two voices from my right. The girls.

  I turned as I pulled.

  Romeo stood, but the girls, long legs flailing, blocked his shot.

  Poppy hit Latham high.

  A shot rang out.

  Pain burned through my shoulder. My vision blurred. My grip weakened. I fought to hold on.

  Another shot.

  Then the girls skidded in beside me. Bethany looked me in the eye. “We got this.”

  Their hands joined mine and we pulled.

  Then my world spun and went dark.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I HEARD voices first. Feeling the pull of recognition, I worked toward them. Fog surrounded me. My movement was slow, frustrating me. Finally, I opened my eyes, blinking against the light, working for focus. The voices pulled me.

  “Lucky? Come back to me.” Jean-Charles. What was he doing here? We were on the ridge, Mona falling.

  I bolted upright. “No!” Pain seared through me. And the world cleared.

  “Where am I?” I stared into the blue eyes of my chef, my love, and they centered me. I didn’t feel danger. My breathing slowed as I leaned back. I clung to his hand, an anchor in the storm of confusion.

  Pain. I moved my right shoulder. More pain, so I stopped. My leg was on fire, too. Then I remembered.

  “The hospital. You are fine.”

  I swatted that away. “Everyone else? Mother? The girls?”

  They gathered around my bed as they were called. Mother snagged my remaining hand before Bethany could grab it.

  I was never so happy to see anyone as to see all of them. I closed my eyes, fighting tears. “And Romeo?”

  “Here, but I’m not going to hold your hand and moon over you like a female.” Then he said, “Oooff,” as Brandy’s elbow connected with his ribs.

  “Might want to rethink that.”

  “Latham?”

  The energy in the room quieted and I knew. “Who killed him?”

  “Romeo,” Bethany said, with not a little bit of hero worship. She clung to Mother’s arm. Aunt and niece. So much story there.

  “Thank you,” I said to the young detective.

  “I owed you.” As close as either of us would get to a “You’re welcome.” I didn’t think that was a good thing. Another line item on the list of things to work on. We were good for each other. We needed to remember that. And I needed to appreciate Romeo for who he’d grown into and not for who he used to be.

  He beamed for a moment, then his face fell. “But I let you get shot. I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know he’d do that. I was angling for a better shot—from directly behind him I was afraid I’d take you out as well.”

  “I would’ve done the same thing. Not to worry. Didn’t he have a felony record, though? How’d he get a gun?” A naïve question—anybody who wanted a gun could get one if they knew the right people to ask. Since Latham was blowing through town, I doubted he had those kinds of connections, but he could’ve.

  “It was your gun.” Romeo looked a bit sheepish.

  “Mine? I was shot with my own gun?” The humiliation!

  “I had it when Beckham clocked me. Latham must’ve taken it then.”

  “Neither one of us noticed, but you had an excuse.” I couldn’t decide whether I should be embarrassed or not. It sounded like I should, but I couldn’t work myself up to being all hot and bothered by it. I mean, it wasn’t like the guy wrestled it away from me, then gut shot me or something. “And Poppy?”

  Romeo’s face darkened. “Latham had his hooks in her. We’re getting her some help. Her father is stepping up. In the end, she did the right thing.”

  “Just a kid.” I didn’t voice my opinion as to what should be done to men who preyed on youngsters, but it was ugly and involved lots of pain. I closed my mind to the kids; I had to. I’d need time and probably some help of my own to process it all. Instead, I turned back to something more pleasant. “Shot with my own gun,” I muttered.

  “A bullet is the only way to slow you down.” Jean-Charles, a smile playing on his lips, looked at me but said to Romeo, “I am grateful you killed him before he could do more. And perhaps now I can get her to take a vacation.”

  There were mutterings of disbelief all around.

  “Do I do vacations? My leash is pretty short.”
<
br />   “Oh, I’m sure we can let you out to run a bit,” Miss P said. “You must come back, though.”

  “A vacation.” I warmed to the idea. “Would that involve a bucolic place, lots of personal attention, and righteous Champagne?”

  “Of course.” Jean-Charles had a way of saying that that implied a bit of insult. “I was thinking Provence. My mother, she would like to meet you.”

  The entire room held its collective breath.

  I almost laughed. Then I almost ran—but running was out of the question…for a few reasons. “Parfait.”

  Everyone pulled in a breath, dropping the oxygen level in the room dramatically. My head swam, then cleared. I could do this.

  Meet his mother! Damn.

  I wanted to live in my own little bubble where other people, people I didn’t know, couldn’t throw their weight around and mess up the magic. Would his mother be one of those? That could be a problem. If she was anything like Mona…

  I scanned the room once more, this time with clearer vision. “My father?” If Mona was here, I knew he was okay, so I wasn’t worried.

  “Here any minute,” Jean-Charles said. “We could tell you were coming back to us, so we sent for him.”

  “I’m sure he liked that.” No one summoned Albert Rothstein and lived to tell about it.

  Bolstered by a couple of extra pillows that Jean-Charles stuffed behind me, from my new vantage point, I realized everyone was staring at me, as if waiting for me to do something.

  Everyone I loved. “You all here to pay your respects?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I wasn’t joking. You’re staring, but my song-and-dance repertoire is limited to a couple of shuffle steps and maybe a ball-change or two.”

  They still laughed…and still stared.

  A nurse, young, blonde with an unctuous attitude, wheeled my father into the room. Thank God. Pink had returned to his cheeks. Without the burden of worry, he looked a decade younger. Everyone turned towards him, flowers following the sun. When the Big Boss was present, he commanded attention.

  The audience was complete. Who would be the setup guy?

  Romeo stepped up. “How the hell did you figure it was Doc Latham?”

  “A few things.” Suddenly, a thought dawned. “What day is it?”