“It’s truly over, isn’t it?”
He nodded, his eyes suddenly dark. “You and your nana and Sammy are going to have a wonderful life.” He kissed her on her brow, then released her and walked out.
She stood at the door and watched as he got into his truck. It was over. Tomorrow night she would tell her story to a man who had the power to bring Sheriff Sinclair to justice. With the tape, it was no longer a question of she said, he said. There was enough evidence to put him behind bars.
She should be feeling euphoric, but instead an unexpected chill walked up her spine. Twenty-four hours, she told herself. That’s all she had to get through. Another twenty-four hours and it would all be over.
*
He knew where she was, and it wasn’t in the motel room that had been rented by Dalton West. Brandon lay in bed next to his sleeping wife, his mind whirling. He’d thought Janette might have been moved to the West property, then had dismissed the idea as being too obvious.
A headache that afternoon had given him the information he needed. He’d been standing in front of the pain relief medications in the grocery store when he’d heard a woman asking about baby formula in the next aisle.
A glance around the corner had let him know it was Savannah West. He’d done his research on the West clan and knew she didn’t have a baby.
He’d paid for his medicine, taken two of the gel-coated tablets, then had gotten into his car and waited for Savannah to emerge from the store.
A few minutes later she’d come out with a basket of groceries, then had gotten into her car and driven off. Thank God he had driven his personal car that day instead of his official car. It had been easy to follow her as she headed north of town.
When she’d turned onto the West property, he’d known Janette was there. He’d returned to Sandstone to plot and plan.
Damn the bitch for leaving Sandstone, for thinking she could escape him. And damn Dalton West for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.
He didn’t just want that kid, he wanted Janette Black dead, dead so she couldn’t talk, dead so she couldn’t cause him any more problems.
She’d probably already told Dalton a tale, but he could easily deny that he’d done anything wrong. Okay, he’d had sex with her, but that didn’t make him a criminal. He’d tell Dalton that they’d had a brief affair, that the sex had been consensual.
He smiled in the darkness of the room. By this time tomorrow night his life would be back to normal. Janette would be dead and, eventually, after all the red tape was through, that boy would be his.
Chapter 12
It snowed again the next afternoon. Janette stood at the window and stared at the fat flakes falling from the sky. She hoped it didn’t snow enough to postpone Trent Cummings’ arrival in Cotter Creek.
She was ready to get it over with, needed to get on with her life away from Dalton. He’d crawled too deeply into her heart. He’d made her wish for things that would never come true.
It was time to go, while she still had her dignity. She had a life to build for her, for Sammy and for Nana. She moved from the window and to the kitchen table where a cup of tea was growing cold.
Sammy was napping and she had spent much of the time after lunch trying to decide if they should go back to Sandstone or move to a whole new city.
When Sinclair was arrested the whole story would come out and Janette wasn’t sure she wanted to be known around the small town as the woman the sheriff had raped. Still, Nana had a support system in Sandstone and she would miss her friends desperately if they chose to locate someplace else.
The trailer had been insured, so there would be some money from the insurance company that might be enough to buy another mobile home and place it on the lot where the old one had been.
Once again her gaze shot out the window where the snow seemed to have picked up in intensity. She couldn’t wait for spring. She ached for budding flowers and greening grass and a sun of healing warmth.
Where would she be in the spring? At the moment Tucson sounded like a great idea.
She’d called Nana earlier to let her know that by the end of the evening, the nightmare should be over. She’d mentioned to the older woman that, if all went well, she hoped Nana could get a ride to Cotter Creek in the morning and meet Janette at the motel. They’d figure out what to do from there.
She took a sip of the lukewarm tea and frowned thoughtfully. Maybe she should turn on the television and see if they were under any sort of snow watch or warning.
That’s just what she needed, another blizzard moving in that put her life on hold for another week or so. What worried her most with each day that passed was the fear that Sinclair would eventually figure out where she was.
Even if he thought she was on the West property, she was comforted by the fact that the cabin was so well hidden. And surely if a stranger were wandering the West land, somebody would notice, a ranch hand or one of the Wests themselves.
She finished her tea, then went into the living room and sat on the sofa trying to decide if she should call Nana or not. Before she’d made up her mind the phone rang.
It was Dalton, and at the sound of his deep, familiar voice she sank back against the cushions and squeezed the receiver closer to her ear.
“Hi,” he said. “How are things there?”
“Okay. I’ve just been watching it snow. I used to love the snow, but lately it seems like all it does is complicate things. Did you meet with Zack, and have you heard from Trent? Is the snow going to postpone his arrival?”
“I tried to reach Zack, but he got called to an accident and didn’t get back last night. I’ve left a message for him to get in touch ASAP. And I spoke to Trent just a few minutes ago,” Dalton said. “He can’t get away from Oklahoma City until about three this afternoon. That would put him here after six and he promised me that the weather wouldn’t interfere except that it might take him longer to make the trip.”
“Thank God, because I’m ready to get this over with,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s past time we both got on with our normal lives,” he said.
She knew he didn’t mean the words to hurt, but somehow they did. They reminded her that she was really nothing more than an inconvenience in his life. Oh, he might have enjoyed their lovemaking. After all, he was a man, but just because he’d liked having sex with her didn’t mean he felt any kind of emotional attachment to her.
“That’s what I’ve been doing all morning. Trying to figure out where I want to pick up the pieces of my life and start again.”
“You aren’t going back to Sandstone?” he asked.
She twisted the phone cord around her finger. “I don’t know. I’m sure Nana would be pleased if I decided that we were going to stay there, but I’m not sure that’s where I want to be. After tonight everyone in town will know that Brandon Sinclair raped me. I’m not sure I want to raise my son someplace where people know that information.”
“What are you going to tell Sammy about his father?”
“Eventually the truth, but I want him to hear it from me, not from some kid down the block or some whispers in a store. I’ll choose the right time and place to tell him about his father. Maybe by that time there will be a man in my life, a man in Sammy’s who will fill any void he might feel.”
There was a long moment of silence. “I hope so,” he finally said.
“Any sign of Sinclair today?” she asked.
“Haven’t seen or heard from him all day. I did hear from my brother Tanner. I’d had him working on a background check of Sinclair and unfortunately it turned up nothing.”
“Did you expect it to turn up anything?” she asked.
“I figured it was worth a try, but no, I guess not. Savannah has tried to make contact with that waitress you spoke to her about, but so far she hasn’t had any luck.”
“None of that matters now,” she replied. “We have Sammy and we have the tape and we have me. That’s all we need to put him in
prison. Do you have the tape in a safe place?” He’d taken the tape player with him the night before when he’d left.
“It’s in the safe here in the office,” he said.
She twisted the phone cord more tightly around her finger, vaguely wondering in the back of her head why nobody had replaced the phone with a newer cordless model. “What happens after tonight? Once I tell my story to Trent?”
“Hopefully Trent will be able to get a judge to issue an arrest warrant, then we’ll have my brother Zack pick him up.” He paused a moment, then continued, “Janette, I know you aren’t sure what your next move might be, but I want you to know that you’re free to stay in the cabin as long as you need to until you figure out where you’re going to go.”
“Thanks, but I’m planning on having Nana meet me at the motel here in town tomorrow afternoon so if you can just take me there tomorrow, I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t stay here, not in the place where she’d realized her love for him.
“Have you checked with the motel to make sure they have a room?” he asked.
“I intend to do that as soon as we hang up.”
“If they don’t have any available rooms, I have one rented there in my name. You could stay in it as long as you want or need.”
“I’ll play it by ear,” she said.
They spoke for a few more minutes then hung up. She got up from the sofa and walked back to the window where the snow was still falling in small flakes.
What she really wanted he couldn’t give her. Two wishes filled her heart. The first was that Brandon Sinclair would pay for what he’d done to her, and that was going to happen. The second wish was that Dalton West would love her enough to want to leave behind his solitary life and spend his future with her and Sammy.
She supposed she should be happy with fifty percent of her wishes being fulfilled, but just as Brandon Sinclair had left an indelible mark on her soul, Dalton had left a very different, but equally powerful mark there.
*
Brandon Sinclair was a lucky man. Dalton shut off the tape player and got up from his desk, fighting a raw aching grief and a rage so great it threatened to consume him. Sinclair was lucky in that he wasn’t around for Dalton to put his fist in his face. He wasn’t around to be introduced to the explosive rage that Dalton barely managed to contain.
He’d decided to listen to the tape in its entirety before Trent Cummings arrived. He’d known Trent would want to hear it and Dalton hadn’t wanted to be blindsided by unexpected emotion in front of the special prosecutor.
And he had been surprised by the depth of his emotion as he’d listened to Janette’s rape at the hands of Brandon Sinclair.
She’d never screamed. Although the rape had been brutal and there had been moments when he’d wanted to scream for her, she’d never screamed. But she’d said no. Fourteen times, she’d said the word. Twelve times she’d pled with him to stop.
Dalton slammed his palm against the doorjamb, needing to vent some of the rage that clawed through him. He was sorry he’d heard the tape, but much more sorry that Janette had experienced the ordeal.
How strong she was, how utterly amazing. A survivor, not a victim. A woman who had decided not to run but rather to face her abuser even when she’d known the stakes were so high.
He would make certain her bravery counted. He wouldn’t rest until Sinclair was in jail, serving hell time for his crimes. It was the least he could do for Janette before he told her goodbye.
He stared out the window where the snow was once again falling. It had snowed off and on all day. Thank God Trent had called him a little while ago and told him he was half an hour outside Cotter Creek and should arrive within the next forty-five minutes. It would be after dark by the time they got to the cabin.
He had fallen in love with her. The thought came out of nowhere and hit him hard in the gut, taking his breath half away.
He’d made the same mistake he’d made with Mary. He’d gotten too close, allowed himself to get too involved. Only this time it was worse. The depth of his emotion for Janette was so much greater than anything he’d ever felt for Mary. He’d opened his heart not just to Janette, but to Sammy, as well, and when they left they’d take a huge piece of him with them.
And they would leave and he wouldn’t try to stop them. He knew the drill. He’d been an important part of her life for a brief time, but he’d never been meant to have a permanent place there. She was in transition, had come to him in the middle of a storm, but the storm would pass and she’d move on.
He moved away from the window and returned to his desk where the small tape recorder awaited the arrival of Trent. Again his heart clenched as he thought of what Janette had endured.
She deserved happiness and he knew without a doubt she’d find it. She’d build a wonderful life for herself, her son and her grandmother. She was strong and beautiful and eventually she’d find a man who wanted to share his life with her.
He knew she’d grown close to him, but that was only because she’d had to be dependent on him for a brief time. Once she got back her independence and was no longer ruled by fear, she’d recognize what she thought was love for him was actually gratitude.
Apparently that was his place in life, to protect and serve, to help heal vulnerable women, then let them go to find happiness elsewhere. He’d thought he was happy alone, believed that his life was exactly the way he wanted it.
He realized he’d been fooling himself. He was a man meant for a family. The days that Janette and Sammy had shared his space had made him recognize that he didn’t want to live a solitary life.
He wanted laughter. He wanted love. He wanted somebody to share his life with, somebody to kiss good-night. Maybe eventually he’d find that special somebody. But in the meantime he just had to figure out how to tell Janette goodbye.
*
Brandon pulled the collar of the white parka closer around his neck and narrowed his gaze. A half an hour ago, when he’d parked his car, he’d cursed the falling snow, but now he welcomed it as he crept closer to the sprawling West house.
It had been a day of frustration. His presence had been required in Sandstone for a meeting with the mayor of the small town. During the meeting, which had seemed to last an eternity, all Brandon could think about was finding Janette and shutting her up for good.
Finally, at five that evening, he’d told his wife he would be gone all night on a stakeout and had left the small town. He’d come prepared. Not only was he wearing white ski pants and the white parka that would allow him to blend in to the surroundings, but he also had another unregistered throwaway gun and a high-beam flashlight.
Now all he had to do was find her, and it was reasonable to assume that she was somewhere on the West property. He’d driven in earlier, holding his breath as he’d coasted past the main house with his lights off. He’d parked behind an old shed and now was headed toward the house where he knew the patriarch, Red West, had raised his family.
Before the night was over, he’d search every structure on the West land, scour every inch of the place in an effort to find her.
He approached the main house, where light danced out the windows. The illumination would make it easy for him to peer inside.
The wind howled like a banshee and sliced at any area of skin that was exposed. Snow crunched underfoot and he cursed beneath his breath, irritated with the weather, but more irritated by the very existence of Janette Black.
His heart beat fast as he eased up to one of the lit windows and looked inside. It was the kitchen of the house and there were two people there, an old man and woman. That would be Smokey Johnson and his new wife, Kathy.
Brandon had done his research. He knew that the old cowhand had married the retired FBI agent a month before and the two shared the house with Red West.
There was no sign of the bitch he sought in the kitchen, so he moved on to the next lighted window. In the living room an older man was in a recliner with a book open on his lap. He
was asleep, and Brandon assumed the man was Red West.
So where was Janette?
He wasn’t a stupid man. He knew that if the right people listened to her, she had the potential to screw up his life. He couldn’t let that happen.
He moved from window to window, fighting a swell of frustration that nearly blinded him. Patience, he told himself. He needed patience. At any minute she might walk into the living room, or go into the kitchen to get something to eat or drink. Once she showed herself to him, it would all be over.
It didn’t bother him that she might be in a house filled with others. Three old people were not going to stop him from getting what he wanted.
It took him twenty minutes or so before he decided to move on. He knew that Red’s oldest son, Tanner, had a house somewhere on the property. Maybe Dalton had stashed Janette there.
The snow was coming down more heavily now. Already his footprints around the house were disappearing, covered by the new layer of snow. That was fine with him. Hopefully by the time the dead were found the weather would have destroyed any evidence the authorities might try to find.
He’d had chains put on his car tires, so hopefully when it was time to leave the snow wouldn’t impede his escape. He got into the car and pulled forward, seeking the house where Tanner lived.
He continued to drive without headlights, using the pasture fences as guidelines to stay on the road, until he spied the next house. His deadly intent burned inside him, warming him despite the plunging temperatures and the icy wind that blew from the north.
A half an hour later his frustration was a gnawing beast inside him. As far as he could tell there was nobody home in Tanner’s two-story house.
He returned to his car. Maybe she was in that motel room that Dalton had rented. Maybe he’d done the expected, thinking that Brandon would think it too obvious. He had thought it was too obvious and had made the decision to stay away from there.
Dammit. He’d been so certain she was here. In his mind there was no other logical place for her to be. He drove farther into the property and came to a house under construction. Brandon had heard that Clay West was in the process of building a home, and this was probably it. It had been framed, but the walls weren’t up. Janette couldn’t be hiding there.
Glory, Glory: Snowbound with the Bodyguard Page 30