He knew he should head back to Sandstone before the snow got so deep that even chains wouldn’t allow forward movement. But he kept creeping forward, unwilling to give up the hunt.
He had just decided to head back to Sandstone when he saw it…a faint light glimmering among a grove of evergreen trees.
Where there was light, there was a source of that light. New energy filled him as he parked the car, got out and moved as quickly as a streak of moonlight over the snow.
He saw the cabin nestled among the trees and he knew she was there. He also knew there was no way Janette Black was going to survive this night.
Chapter 13
Janette paced the living-room floor as she waited to tell her story to Trent Cummings. Dalton had called a few minutes before and told her Trent had arrived in Cotter Creek and they would be leaving the West Protective Services office within the hour.
She had a feeling the hour would be spent discussing her case with Trent and listening to the tape that had captured Sinclair’s crime against her.
She was glad Dalton was playing it for Trent in his office. She hoped to never hear it again unless it was at Brandon Sinclair’s trial.
It was strange. She was at the end of this particular journey in her life, but she didn’t feel the expected relief she’d thought tonight would bring. An uneasiness filled her.
She thought it was because tomorrow she’d have to face the rest of her life—a life without Dalton. On impulse she went over to the sofa and picked up the phone. She punched in the number that would connect her to her grandmother.
Nancy answered on the second ring and immediately put Janette’s grandmother on the phone. “Honey, how are you doing?” Nana asked. To Janette’s surprise she began to cry. “Janette, what’s wrong?” Nana asked urgently.
“Nothing…nothing’s wrong,” Janette managed to say. She swiped the tears from her cheeks and warbled an uneasy laugh. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. Dalton is supposed to be here anytime with the prosecutor, and it looks like things are finally at an end.”
“Then maybe those tears are ones of relief and hopefully a little bit of closure,” Nana replied.
“Maybe,” Janette agreed, but she knew where the tears were formed. They were created in her heart as she thought of never seeing Dalton again.
“Nancy’s brother is driving me into town tomorrow afternoon,” Nana continued. “I’ll be at the motel by three or so.”
“Good. I thought we’d stay a day or two and talk about where we go from here,” Janette said.
“Janette, I want you to know that I don’t want you making decisions with me in mind. I want you to build a life for you and that precious little boy of yours. Nancy has told me I can live here with her. I don’t want you thinking you have to provide for me. I’m an old woman at the end of my life and you’re a young woman, a new mother with your life ahead of you. Reach for all the happiness you can grab, honey. You deserve it.”
They spoke for another few minutes then hung up. Janette got up from the sofa and walked to the doorway of the bedroom to stare at Sammy sleeping in the beautiful cradle.
Once again she felt the burn of tears in her eyes. Maybe it was just the relief of knowing it was all finally over. She could let go of the fear that had been with her every day since the rape. She’d never again have to look over her shoulder and be afraid that Brandon Sinclair was just behind her, ready to wreak havoc in her life.
She turned away from the doorway and instead paced the kitchen, thinking about her conversation with Nana. Even though Nana had said she could live with Nancy, had insisted that Janette think only of herself and Sammy, Janette knew Nana would miss them desperately if Janette chose to leave her behind.
And to tell the truth, she didn’t want to leave her behind. There was no question that Janette’s life would be easier with Nana in it. While she worked and went back to school, somebody would have to watch Sammy, and Nana was the one person she trusted to take care of her little boy.
She didn’t just need Nana in her life, she wanted the old woman to play a major role there. Wherever she went, she wanted Nana to go with her.
Maybe Kansas City was a good place to start again, she thought as she drifted into the living room. There would be plenty of job opportunities there and community colleges galore. She and Nana could make a decision tomorrow at the motel.
Reach for all the happiness you can grab, Nana had told her. If she were to reach for what she truly wanted, she’d grab Dalton West and never let him go.
She’d build a life with him that others would envy. They’d share their lives during the days and share their passion for each other during the nights. He’d be the one who would teach Sammy how to be a man, and Sammy would grow up to be strong and morally decent and good.
It was a wonderful fantasy, but it had nothing to do with reality. She glanced at the clock on the top of the television. After seven. Where were Dalton and Trent? It had been well over an hour since Dalton had called.
She moved back to the front window and peered out. It was still snowing, more heavily than it had all day. She hoped the weather didn’t hold up Dalton and Trent too long. She wanted tonight to be done and tomorrow to begin. She needed to get away from this cabin, away from thoughts of Dalton and what might have been.
She started to turn away from the window when, from the corner of her eye, she saw movement. It was just a flash, a blur of something, but fear spiked through her and she backed away from the window with a small gasp.
Although she hadn’t gotten a real look at whatever was moving outside, the impression that burned in her head was that it had been far too big to be an animal. It had been big enough to be a man.
Dalton or Trent wouldn’t be walking around outside, and if it was one of the Wests, surely they’d knock on the door to find out who was staying in the cabin.
It could only be one person.
Brandon Sinclair.
Somehow he’d found her. Her heart beat so fast she couldn’t catch her breath for a long moment. The back of her throat closed up as panic took over.
He was here!
She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. It was as if the cold of the night had moved inside and frozen her in place. Nobody will hear you scream. The words pounded in her head. She was so isolated that when Sinclair got inside the cabin, as he killed her then stole her son, nobody would hear her cries.
“No.” The word of protest broke her inertia. No, she wasn’t going to allow that to happen, at least not without a fight.
She raced to the phone and picked it up. No dial tone greeted her. The line was dead. If she needed any further evidence that Sinclair was somewhere outside, the dead phone was it. He’d made certain she couldn’t call for help.
As she left the living room and hurried into the bedroom, a fist slammed against the locked front door. “Janette, open the door. We need to talk.” His deep voice held the authority and confidence of his position.
Inside the bedroom Janette fumbled beneath her pillow and pulled out the knife she’d carried since the night of her rape. The knock came again, this time harder against the wood of the door.
“Janette, open the door or I’ll break it down. We have official business to discuss.”
Frantically she looked around the small bedroom, seeking another weapon or an escape route. Her gaze landed on the window. She raced to it and threw it open. Frigid air blew in, chilling the last of any warmth that might have been left in her body. With trembling fingers she removed the screen.
Where were Dalton and Trent? She needed them here now. As she picked up the sleeping Sammy and wrapped him tightly in the towel she’d used as an extra blanket, she heard a crash at the front door and knew Sinclair was breaking it down.
She couldn’t stand and fight him, knew that she’d never stand a chance against him. There was only one possible means of escape, and that was out into the snowstorm.
Holding Sammy tight against her, she went
out the window, the icy cold and snow stinging every inch of her bare skin. Someplace in the back of her mind she knew it wouldn’t take long for her to die of exposure. She wore no coat, no hat and no snow boots. She was clad in only a T-shirt, a pair of jeans and a pair of thin cotton slippers. But that couldn’t be helped now.
As she began to run away from the cabin, away from Brandon Sinclair, the snow continued to fall like beautiful white death from the sky.
Behind her she heard the crash and a roar and knew that Sinclair had gotten inside. A sob ripped through her as she ran, knowing that she’d rather die in the snow than at the hands of the man who had raped her.
*
Dalton hung up the phone and tried to squash the worry that roared through him. “The phone’s dead,” he told Trent, who stood at the West Protective Services front door.
“Maybe the storm blew down a line,” Trent offered.
“Maybe,” Dalton said, but wasn’t sure he believed it. A thrum of disquiet kicked up inside as he grabbed his truck keys off the desk. He hadn’t talked to Zack yet, which didn’t help his mood. “Let’s get out of here. We need to get to the cabin.”
Together the two men left the office and got into Dalton’s truck. They had spent the past hour with Dalton filling in his old friend about the particulars of the case. Trent had heard the tape and had also listened to Dalton’s suspicions that it had been Sinclair who had set the fire and fired the shots the night Dalton had moved her to the cabin.
Trent’s expression had grown more grim with each word that Dalton spoke about Sinclair. Dalton knew there was nothing Trent loved more than putting away bad guys who masqueraded as good guys.
Dalton tried to ignore the uneasiness that coursed through him as he started the truck engine. She’d never not answered the phone before.
He attempted to tamp down the anxiety as he turned on the wipers to swipe at the snow that had gathered on the windshield.
“You’re sure she’ll testify?” Trent asked as Dalton backed out of his parking space.
“She’ll do whatever she needs to do to make sure Sinclair goes to prison.”
“The tape is good evidence, but could be easily disputed without her testimony,” Trent said thoughtfully.
“She’s solid,” Dalton said. “She’s come too far now to back down. She wants Sinclair behind bars far more than you or I do.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Trent said as he narrowed his eyes. “There’s nothing I love more than putting a crooked lawman behind bars. Sinclair is a disgrace to the men and women who put their lives on the line every day for the good of their communities.”
“I wish I would have seen him the night of the fire,” Dalton said. “Then we could get him for attempted murder.”
“We’ll get him,” Trent replied. “And I’ll see to it that he’s put away for as long as possible.”
The street was slick and Dalton had to keep his speed at a minimum. As he drove he fumbled for his cell phone and punched in the number for the cabin. The phone rang and rang and rang. He clicked off, his apprehension exploding into full-blown fear.
“No answer?” Trent asked, his handsome features lit by the dashboard light.
Dalton shook his head. “I’ve got to admit, I’m worried.” That was the understatement of the day.
He opened the cell phone again and quickly punched in a new number. “My brother Tanner lives close to the cabin where Janette is. He can get there quicker than we can.” He sighed in frustration as Tanner’s phone went directly to voice mail.
Tossing his cell phone to the seat between them, Dalton tightened his grip on the steering wheel and stepped on the gas.
Janette was in trouble and it was his fault. The knowledge thundered in his head. He should have insisted she keep a gun with her, he should have made other arrangements for her. Jesus, he should have done something different to ensure that Sinclair wouldn’t find her.
Dammit, what had made him think that she’d be safe in the cabin all alone? He hadn’t believed that Sinclair would be able to find her there, but apparently he’d underestimated the sheriff.
The snow made visibility difficult and Dalton felt the spin and slide of the tires on the slick road beneath them. The wind howled and buffeted the truck and he silently cursed the conditions that kept him from going as fast as he wanted to go.
Let her be okay. Don’t let anything happen to her. Dalton’s brain said the words over and over again, his heart pounding so loud in his ears he wondered if Trent could hear it.
Trent braced himself with a hand on the dash as the back of the truck spun out. Dalton quickly corrected the spin, the panic inside him nearly unbearable. But it wasn’t the panic of nearly losing control of the vehicle, it was the sheer terror that had loosened itself inside him for Janette and Sammy.
“You going to kill us before we get there?” Trent finally said with a touch of dry humor.
“I’m trying not to.” Dalton eased up on the gas, knowing that if they wrecked there was no way they could be any help at all.
His cell rang. He picked up the phone and checked the ID. Zack, finally. “Zack, I need you to meet me at the cabin immediately.”
“What’s going on?” Zack asked.
“You know that woman Sheriff Sinclair was looking for? Janette Black?”
“What about her?”
He didn’t bother trying to fill in Zack on the tape and details. “I’ve got her at the cabin and I think she’s in big trouble.” As Dalton spoke those words aloud, his heart squeezed so tight in his chest he momentarily felt light-headed. “Hurry, Zack.”
Zack hung up and Dalton tossed the phone aside again, hoping and praying that there was a logical explanation for Janette not answering his calls, hoping and praying that she and Sammy were just fine and Brandon Sinclair was nowhere in the area.
*
The snow was both a blessing and a curse. As Janette ran from the cabin, she was glad that the heavy snowfall would make it more difficult for Sinclair to see her.
The curse was that it hadn’t taken long for her feet to become chunks of ice, causing her to stumble more than once as she ran blindly into the night.
Sammy had awakened and fussed against her, and she tried to soothe him as she ran, afraid that if he began to wail Sinclair would hear and would be able to pinpoint her exact location.
Her breaths came in painful pants, the cold air stabbing her lungs with each intake of air. Her bare hands ached, as did her face where the icy flakes of snow clung to her lashes, her lips and her cheeks.
Somehow in the space of a dozen footsteps she’d become disoriented. She was no longer sure she was going in the right direction to find help and with each step she took she grew more exhausted.
Eventually the cold disappeared and instead she became numb, feeling nothing but the screaming in her head. And that scream intensified when she turned and saw the beam of a high-powered flashlight just behind her.
He was coming! A sob ripped from her throat as she stumbled forward. The snow and the darkness of the night couldn’t hide her if his high beam fell on her.
The flashlight swiped from side to side, and she knew at the moment he didn’t see her, didn’t know that she was so close.
Exhaustion pulled at her, but she forced herself to move on. She wasn’t so worried about her own safety, but for Sammy’s. She had to keep him safe from the man who had fathered him.
She pushed herself forward, putting one numb foot in front of the other in an effort to escape. She could hear him now, the swish of his pant legs as his thighs rubbed together, and her heart pounded so hard, so fast, she wondered if she were having a heart attack.
At least if she died she knew Dalton would somehow, someway get Sammy. Even if Brandon Sinclair plucked Sammy from her dead arms, she was confident it would only be a temporary thing. Because she trusted Dalton. Because she knew he’d fight for her son if she couldn’t fight for him herself.
Cold.
She knew that was the cold talking and so she pushed herself forward. Half-blinded by the snow, she nearly crashed into the small shed. All she could think about was getting out of the snow before her legs stopped moving altogether.
Sammy had become an unbearable weight in her arms and no matter how close she held him to her chest, she knew he must be feeling the sting of the cold.
Without conscious thought, she opened the shed door and went inside, then shoved the door shut behind her. Without the aid of a light she couldn’t see what the shed contained. All she knew was the blessing of being out of the howling wind and the icy air. She’d take a minute and catch her breath, warm herself just a bit before leaving the structure and continuing to run.
It wasn’t until she heard Sinclair roar her name from just outside the shed that she realized what she’d done. She’d run herself into a dead end, a blind alley. The only way out was back through the door she’d entered and on the other side of that door was death.
Chapter 14
The mind was a strange thing. In the flash of a moment it could process enough impressions and instincts to make a man sick. Dalton was definitely sick as his brain not only worked to wrap around the grim possibility that Sheriff Sinclair had found Janette, but also highlighted every mistake he’d made as her bodyguard.
And he’d made plenty.
“I shouldn’t have left her out there all alone.” He spoke one of his biggest mistakes aloud.
“You did what you thought was right at the moment,” Trent replied, once again bracing himself as Dalton turned into the West property and nearly took out a wooden post as the truck spun out. “Don’t second-guess yourself. That can make a man crazy.”
Glory, Glory: Snowbound with the Bodyguard Page 31