In a Killer’s Sights

by Sandra Robbins

  Ben’s eyes grew wide, and his mouth gaped open. “You have a daughter?”

  “Yeah. Gwen was pregnant when we got a divorce, and she never told me about the baby. She says she was trying to protect her from the man I’d become.”

  Ben propped his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Then that explains why she made you promise not to look for her. She didn’t want you to find out about your child.”

  “Well, I know now, and I intend to meet Maggie and have a relationship with her. She needs to know she has a father.”

  Ben’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “And a good one now. But back then...”

  Dean arched his eyebrows. “What are you saying?”

  “From what you’ve told me, and the way you were when you came here, I don’t think you could have been a father then.”

  The memory of those years washed over him, and he nodded. “You’re right. But it’s been five years, and she never even tried to find out if I was okay or not.”

  Ben pursed his lips and stared at the burning barn again. “Yeah, five years of you telling me how much you love her and that you wanted her back no matter what. How do you feel about Gwen now?”

  Dean exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a good question. I really don’t know.”

  “Then that’s something you have to figure out. I only met Gwen yesterday, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would be vindictive. What if she’s telling the truth, and only wanted to protect herself and her child from the horror of living with an alcoholic?” Ben put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed. “So let your old sponsor give you another piece of advice, friend. Don’t do anything rash. Think about it, and ask God what He wants you to do. You’ll know what the best decision is.”

  “You’re right—what I really need is to spend time with God. I usually get on Midnight and ride up to Crystal Falls, but I guess I can’t do that tonight. My saddle probably burned with all the others in the barn. So I guess I’ll have to find another place to go.”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” Ben said. “God already knows about it. All you have to do is find a quiet place and sit still so you can let Him help you decide what’s the best route for you to take. If Gwen’s planning on leaving, I’d suggest you get on this right away.”

  Dean smiled wryly. “Ben, I wish I had your confidence. You seem happy all the time, and you always know the right thing to do.”

  He let out a snort. “Don’t be fooled, buddy. We all have problems. Some people don’t like to talk about them.”

  Dean tilted his head and gazed at him. “Maybe someday you’ll share them with me.”

  His friend exhaled. “Maybe I will. But for now, get out of here and decide what to do before Gwen takes off.”

  “You’re right. I’ll go check with the fire chief to see how long they think they’ll be. Then I think I’ll walk down to the pond in the field back of the barn. It was always one of Granddad’s favorite places to go be alone.”

  “Then I’m gonna head back to the office and check the records for your phone. Maybe the provider can tell me something about where that text you received came from. I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”

  Ben turned and walked toward his squad car. Dean watched him go and then shifted his gaze to the upstairs window of the room where Gwen was staying. Even though the curtains had been drawn, the light shone through. He wondered what she was doing right now. Then the light went out, and he pressed his lips together. If she was already going to bed, she must not have been as bothered by their conversation as he was. Maybe that was because she’d known for five years they had a daughter, and he’d found out about it less than an hour ago.

  He rubbed his hands over his eyes. There was nothing he could do about the past five years, but he could choose the path he wanted to take for the future. Now all he had to do was decide what that was.

  The fire chief was staring at the dying blaze when Dean walked over to him. “How’s it going, Keith?”

  “It’s dying down, but we’ll be here until we think it’s fully extinguished. Then we’ll come back in the morning, when it’s cooled off some, and start our investigation. There’s no need for you to hang around here. No one was hurt, and the horses are safe. So go on and get some rest.”

  Dean shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep any tonight. But I will be leaving you to it, since I’ve got something I need to do. I’ll see you before you go.”

  He turned, glanced at Gwen’s dark window once again and walked to the corral. He leaned on the fence for a moment and said a prayer of thanks that the horses had all been saved, then headed across the field.

  The small pond that he’d fished in ever since he was a boy lay at the back. Dying flames still lit the area as he trudged toward it and the wooden bench on the bank where his grandfather had spent so many hours.

  The clouds had cleared, and moonlight sparkled on the quiet water. If it wasn’t for the fire’s glow and the occasional sound of a fireman’s voice in the still night, he would have thought he was alone. He gazed up at the stars, which suddenly seemed brighter than they ever had, and he knew he wasn’t alone.

  A weariness spread through his body, and Dean leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. He’d been so happy when Gwen had reappeared in his life, but a short while ago she had stolen all that joy. Now he had a decision to make. He either had to forgive her or decide to hate her forever. Either way, he intended to be a part of his daughter’s life.

  He looked up at the stars one more time, fell to his knees and bowed his head. “God, help me,” he begged. “Show me what to do.”

  ELEVEN

  The sun had just come up when Gwen carried her suitcases downstairs, set them in the entry hall and stopped outside the office. The door stood open, but Dean wasn’t in there. She walked to the window and looked toward the barn. A few firemen still stood beside the smoldering remains of what had once been a beautiful barn, but Dean was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had finally come inside and was asleep right now.

  It was just as well. She didn’t want to see him anyway.

  She pulled the letter she’d written before she went to bed last night from her purse and laid it on the desk in a spot where he’d see it right away. She’d put his name on it so that anyone else working in the office this morning wouldn’t open it. She supposed this room would be quite busy when the guests awoke and people began checking out. With any luck she’d be almost to Knoxville by then.

  She stepped back into the hall, picked up her bags and looked around the house that held such happy memories for her—visiting Dean’s grandfather in the summers, coming here on holidays. For a brief second last night, she had thought maybe she and Dean could recapture that time and build a life together with their daughter. He had killed that hope when he’d walked away from her. Now all they could do was attempt to be civil as they coordinated joint custody of their daughter.

  Holding her head high, Gwen walked out the front door and down the steps to her car. Within minutes she’d stowed her bags in the back and was on her way down the driveway to the main road. There shouldn’t be much traffic this time of morning, and if all went well, she could have the rental returned and be checked in at the airport in plenty of time for her flight.

  She yawned and tried to shake the sluggish feeling from her head. Maybe she should have got a cup of coffee before she left. After her conversation with Dean last night, she hadn’t been able to sleep, and this morning she ached from head to toe with exhaustion. She only hoped the flight to New York was a smooth one, because she intended to sleep all the way there.

  At the moment, though, she needed to concentrate on the winding road that led from the ranch into town. Living in New York, she had little use for a car and depe
nded on public transportation. She was out of practice driving at all, much less around such sharp curves.

  Ahead, she spotted an especially tricky stretch, with two hairpin curves that always took her breath away. The road twisted in 180-degree turns, one after the other, requiring a driver to brake sharply in order to navigate the switchbacks. Gwen bit her lip, slowed the car and watched for oncoming traffic as she made the first curve.

  At the end of the second one, the road entered a tunnel through the side of the mountain. As she pulled into it, she smiled and couldn’t resist honking the horn, as she and Dean used to do when they’d traveled this road.

  The blare of the horn echoed off the walls, but her smile quickly changed to a frown when the car engine sputtered and died about halfway through the tunnel. As the vehicle glided to a stop, she glanced down at the gas gauge, but it registered half-full. Looking under the hood for the cause of the breakdown would do no good, for Gwen had no idea of the names of the parts underneath or their functions, much less how to fix them if they broke.

  She reached for her purse to get out her cell phone and then remembered it likely still lay at the bottom of Rattlesnake Creek. Her only hope for help was for someone to come by and stop. This wasn’t a well-traveled road, though, and it could be a while before anyone happened upon her.

  Mentally, she calculated the distance into Gatlinburg, the nearest place where she could get a ride. She had to be at least three miles away. The thought of walking that distance pulling two suitcases didn’t appeal to her, but she didn’t seem to have much choice.

  Gwen pulled the keys from the ignition and grabbed her purse before she stepped out of the car and walked around to the back. The keyhole for the trunk was barely visible in the tunnel’s dim lights, but she managed to insert the key and pop the lid. She had just reached inside to retrieve her suitcases when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Turning to stare in that direction, she spied a battered Jeep approaching. It pulled up beside her, the driver’s door opened and Billy Champion stepped out.

  “Gwen,” he said in surprise. “What are you doing out here this early in the morning?”

  She gave a sigh of relief. “I’m on my way to the airport at Knoxville, and my car broke down. I’m so glad to see you. Can you give me a lift to the nearest garage so I can get someone to come tow it in for me?”

  “Sure I can. Did you rent this car in Gatlinburg?”

  “No, I got it in Knoxville, but if I can get it to a garage, then I can call the rental company and have them send someone over to pick it up. I’ll have to find a way to the airport, though.”

  Billy smiled and walked toward her. “Then it’s a good thing I came by. I’m on my way to Knoxville, and I can drop you at the airport. Let’s get your bags.”

  She pulled the key from the trunk and nodded. “I’d appreciate a ride.” Gwen was about to grab the handle of her larger suitcase when she spotted a pair of shoes lying at the back of the trunk. She’d worn them on one of her first visits to a possible location and had thrown them inside afterward. She would need those shoes when she got home, and she bent over farther to reach them so she could stuff them in her suitcase.

  “I haven’t had any problem with this car all the time I’ve had it. I can’t imagine what could be wrong with it,” she said as she unzipped one of the bags and slipped the shoes inside.

  Billy stepped up closer behind her. “It could be a kill switch,” he said. “They’ll stop a car before you know what’s happening.”

  She’d never heard of such a thing, but then, she knew little about what went on under the hood. “A kill switch, huh?” she muttered absently. “Is that something new on cars now?”

  “Yeah, kinda new,” he said. “Lending companies sometimes put them on cars they finance for customers with bad credit. That way if they don’t receive payment, they can stop a car anywhere they want, even on a highway, repossess it right there and leave the driver stranded.”

  “Well, I don’t know why the rental company would put one on this car. My credit is great. I’ll speak to them about this. In the meantime, I’m glad you came by. You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know—”

  She stopped midsentence when she felt a sharp prick in her neck. She pressed her hand to the spot, which felt as if it had been stung by a bee, and turned to stare in disbelief at Billy, who stood there holding a hypodermic needle in his hand. A smile pulled at his lips, and he grabbed her arm as she stumbled back against the car.

  “What was that?” She knew that was her voice speaking, but somehow it sounded slurred.

  “First of all,” he said, “the rental company didn’t put that switch on your car. I did. The first night you came to the ranch. I just had to wait for the right moment to use it. And second, I’m not a lifesaver. Quite the opposite.”

  A dizzy feeling assaulted her, and she felt her knees grow weak. She put out a hand to steady herself, attempting to brace it against the car. “What did you give me?”

  “Just a little something to help you relax,” he said. “In a minute you won’t feel a thing.”

  The car keys she held and the purse hanging on her shoulder slipped to the ground. Gwen tried to grab for them, but it was no use. She blinked and tried to refocus on Billy’s face. It wavered and rippled in her vision, and the leering look he directed at her sent chills down her spine. With a desperate groan, she tried to force her shaking legs to straighten, but failed. She was drifting toward unconsciousness, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Billy was right. She couldn’t feel anything.

  * * *

  Dean skipped another rock across the quiet pond and glanced up at the sunrise just beginning to break. He loved this time of day in the mountains. To him, the red-and-yellow-streaked sky, along with the blue haze from the mountaintops, sent a message from God that this was indeed the day that He had made.

  Today that message was received loud and clear. This was not a day to be wasted. Dean had a decision to make, and so far he had no idea what it was going to be. He’d struggled all night as he’d sat on the bench beside the pond and wrestled with the question of what he wanted to do about Gwen.

  As the night had worn on, he had come to the conclusion that he had two choices. The first one was to contact his lawyer and begin the process of trying to work out some kind of custody agreement with Gwen.

  He picked up another rock and threw it with all his might into the pond, where it hit with a splash and sent small waves rippling outward. A custody agreement wasn’t going to get back the years he’d lost with his daughter.

  The second option he had was to forgive her. He chuckled to himself at how easily he’d given that advice to others in the past. He’d always counseled people to let go of their anger and their grudges. Well, now he knew firsthand that forgiving was a lot harder than he’d ever thought. It meant he would have to quit thinking of himself as a wronged person and would have to sacrifice his hurt feelings. But the potential reward would be enormous, since only through forgiveness would he have a chance at a restored relationship with Gwen.

  When he weighed the two options in his mind and debated which would be the best for his daughter, he knew the answer. Of course it would be better for her if he and Gwen could have a good and loving relationship.

  That might be best for Maggie. But what about him? Didn’t he deserve to get some kind of victory over Gwen for what she’d done to him?

  Dean stood and began to pace up and down the bank of the pond. He’d been so hopeful last night in the office when she’d run to him and kissed him and told him she loved him. He’d been so happy for one short minute, until she made her confession to him.

  Why had God let this happen to him? Dean had stopped in the kitchen on the way to the office and prayed that...

  He
halted in his pacing now and swallowed the sick feeling coming from his stomach. His prayer. He’d forgotten about that. What was it he’d asked God to do? And then his words rose up in his mind: give me the strength to accept and live in peace with whatever she has to say, he’d prayed.

  Dean staggered back to the bench where he’d sat with his grandfather so many times and sank down on it. He’d had the answer all along, before he even came out here. And the words had come from his own mouth. He had to forgive her.

  Suddenly he realized the truth. If he’d been a different person five years ago, he would have had his daughter from the start. But he’d been an alcoholic who’d put his wife’s life in danger, and there was no way he could have been a good father. He and Gwen both had made mistakes that had affected their daughter’s life. But those mistakes didn’t have to determine their future. Now they had a chance to lay the past to rest—to start to forgive each other and find out if there was any way the three of them could be a family.

  He turned and ran back to the house as fast as he could. When he burst through the back door, Shorty gave a startled shout. “Dean, you scared me to death. What’s the matter?”

  “Gwen,” he panted. “Has she come down for breakfast yet?”

  “No, not yet. I figured she was sleeping in after the night we had.”

  Dean walked over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. “It was a hard night. I’ll let her sleep in. Let me know when she wakes up. I’ll be in the office.”

  Holding his coffee, he headed that direction. When he entered the room, he went to the window and stood there sipping his coffee and gazing out at the three firemen who still watched the smoldering remains of his barn. Those guys had to be tired. He’d have to ask Shorty to get them some breakfast.

  Dean was about to turn to do that when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Ben’s name on caller ID. “Good morning, Ben.”

  “Morning,” he replied. “I’ve been up all night, but I’m on my way home to get some sleep and thought I’d let you know I got some information from the phone company about the text you received.”