An Impostor in Town (Colorado Series)

by Denise Moncrief

  “I’m your daddy.”

  She swung her legs over the side of the cot. “Shut up, Cory.”

  “Come on, Paula. The boy needs to hear the truth.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Not from you anyway.”

  Cory circled Jake as if giving him a thorough examination and finding him acceptable. “I’m excited. Aren’t you, dear? We can all be together now.” He punched the word dear and made it sound loathsome. He addressed her, but kept his eyes on Jake.

  The boy made a dash for the door, but Cory was faster. He snagged Jake by the collar and dragged him away from his escape, then drew the gun from his pocket and waved it in Jake’s face. “You remember Jeff, don’t you? Jeff is dead. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  The threat had its intended effect. Jake’s eyes widened into two gray masses. He nodded his head. Cory seemed to enjoy Jake’s reaction. She felt like choking the breath out of him. If he didn’t hold the gun—her gun on her son—and her hands weren’t tied behind her back, she’d be all over Cory, even in her battered state.

  “Then you know I know how to use a gun.” He emphasized every word for the drama of it. Jake leaned away from him.

  Peyton struggled to stand on aching legs. “For heaven’s sake, Cory. Don’t do that to him. He’s your—”

  “Boy—”

  “I have a name.” Jake squirmed out of his grasp.

  Maybe he was stunned, because Cory lowered the weapon. “What’s that?”

  “I said I have a name.”

  Pride swelled in the depths of her soul. Her son was a brave young man in the face of such danger. He obviously had managed to overcome his lousy genetics.

  Mania oozed from Cory like a sewer river. He laughed and shoved Jake hard. He stumbled and landed on the cot. “You don’t have a name, boy. You’re the bastard son of a bastard.”

  Cory pushed her onto the cot next to Jake before he slid down the wall and rested his butt on the ground, his back against the door. He laid the gun on the floor next to him and glared at Jake as if daring him to wrestle for it.

  ****

  When she awoke, Cory was missing and her hands were freed. Had Jake released her from her bonds after Cory left them? Was now the time to make their escape? She wanted to leap from the floor where she’d fallen asleep, but her limbs refused to move without effort. After dragging her weary body the few foot toward freedom, the door was jammed. Cory had obviously propped something against the other side to block their escape.

  She gazed at the boy asleep on the cot and shook her head as if to dispel a frightful image. But Jake wasn’t going away. He was right here with her. That meant this nightmare was real. Why were they still here? Where was Cory?

  She nudged him. “Jake, wake up.”

  He grumbled and rolled over.

  She recalled every detail of the previous night and shuddered at the potential emotional and mental damage Cory had inflicted on his son—his flesh and his blood. He wasn’t going to stop before he had his revenge on her, even if that meant permanently harming Jake.

  She dropped to the floor and let Jake sleep. As she lay on the ground in the shadows of the early dawn, her mind wandered back to her life in Austin before everything went wrong. Her involvement with Cory was the beginning of her destruction. She recalled every sordid detail of her tempestuous involvement with him and then with Mason and his children—every detail of her desperate escape from Austin with Johanna, and after that, her flight from Albuquerque when one of Mason’s men nearly caught her.

  She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  A gentle hand tugged at her elbow, and she glanced up into Jake’s bright eyes. “Are you all right?” He had so much compassionate concern on his face it reminded her of her father. It was a mature attitude. He was still so young. He should be struggling with his own fears and confusion instead of worrying about her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is my fault. Will you forgive me?”

  “I’m not sure what I’m forgiving you for.” He studied her for a few moments. “Johanna told me you’re my mother. Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  He dropped to the floor next to her and put his head in his hands. Then he looked at her with a new question in his eyes. “You called that man Cory.” It wasn’t a question really, but a statement that relayed so much of his fears.

  “His name is Cory Powell.”

  “That man is my father?” His lack of emotion frightened her.

  “Yes, I’m afraid he is.”

  “What did he mean when he said we could finally be together? I don’t think I want to be with him. I want to stay with Johanna and Pierce.” His voice resonated with hardness beyond his years. The blaze in his eyes suggested he didn’t want to be separated from them to be with Peyton either.

  She held his steady gaze. “We’ve got to find a way to get away from him.”

  “Maybe when he comes back, I can clobber him on the head and you can run.” Hope gleamed in his slate gray eyes—eyes that reminded her so much of Cory. Only with a different light. Cory’s eyes were full of hate and spite. Jake’s eyes were full of hope and compassion. Johanna had done well. She liked what she saw of his character.

  “I can’t leave you behind.” Did he notice how strange that sounded? She had left him behind for twelve years. She pushed past the awkwardness. “We’ve got to find some way to let Pierce know we’re out here. How long will it be before they realize you’re missing?”

  “They’ll know something is wrong when Johanna comes to get me up this morning. She’ll panic.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. Just keep your eyes and ears open. We’ll be okay.” How could she reassure him when she wasn’t able to assure herself? She knew what her ex-lover was capable of. “Before long you’ll be back with Johanna and Pierce, and then Cory will—”

  The door rattled. She snapped her mouth shut. Both of them held their breath. Cory entered the bunkhouse and pulled the gun from his jacket pocket.

  “Okay, you two, we’ve got to move before it gets daylight. It won’t be long before they’re searching every inch of this place looking for the kid.” He grabbed Jake from the floor by his elbow, the gun dangling in his other hand.

  Pain erupted on Jake’s face. She couldn’t stand to witness it. “Don’t hurt him!”

  “Get up from there. We’ve got to move. I’ve got some unfinished business in town.” Just the mention of his unfinished business appeared to anger him.

  Something had changed in Cory overnight. He appeared even more desperate than he was the night before.

  ****

  The phone rang incessantly by his bedside. Brian rolled away from it. He swatted at the alarm clock until he realized he was abusing the wrong irritating machine. He rolled over, picked up the phone, and listened for a moment with little comprehension.

  “Did you say the boy is missing?”

  “He wasn’t in his bed this morning. It doesn’t look like he slept there last night.” Austin Pierce paused a moment. “I can’t locate Peyton Chandler. I thought she ought to know what was going on.”

  His mind screamed on full alert. “I’ll see if I can find her.” He promised as much for Pierce and Johanna’s benefit as for his own.

  He dressed furiously, taking little heed for his appearance. Before he left his house, he called the hospital. Peyton had not reported for duty. He wasted no time getting to her house, the flashers on his car dancing and his siren blaring.

  As he neared her driveway, he noticed her vehicle was missing. He rushed out of his car and to her front door. He knocked with no effect. When he peered into her slightly open kitchen curtains, nothing appeared unusual until he noticed her purse sitting on the counter. Women don’t usually leave their purses behind.

  Years of experience propelled him around the corner to her bedroom window. As he peeked through the slats of the blinds, he observed piles of clothing on her bed. Scattered around the room were pa
cking boxes. She was leaving town. He braced himself on the windowsill. He didn’t want her to leave. He had other plans.

  Dread enveloped him. He kicked the clapboard side of the farmhouse with one booted foot. When he looked down at the spot his boot made on the light colored paint, he noticed another set of prints in the dirt just underneath the window. The shoe size was smaller than his.

  He forced the carport door open with one swift kick. The knob banged against the kitchen wall—the bam bouncing off the walls of the empty house. He drew his weapon, raising it to the ready stance. Nothing seemed disturbed in her kitchen or living room. Down the hall in her bedroom, her closets were completely empty—clothing stacked on one side of the bed, the comforter pulled back on the other. The drawers of her dresser pulled out. In the middle of the room, her nightgown lay crumpled on the floor.

  Muddy footprints came from the bathroom. He felt a rush of air from the outside as he entered the bath. The curtains flapped in the cool mountain breeze coming through the open window. Mud smeared the closed toilet seat.

  He wanted to scream and rant his frustration, but he couldn’t afford the luxury. His entire body jolted into activity.

  ****

  Jake pulled her by the hand, barreling across the stubble of a mowed hay field. She glanced over her shoulder. Cory was only yards behind them. The damage Jake did to Cory’s head was obviously superficial. Jake’s fearless attack had given them enough time to bolt and run. To her dismay, she realized they were headed away from the lodge and help.

  Cory was within inches when they both glanced over their shoulders to gauge the distance. Neither of them noticed the gaping hole in the ground. First Jake tumbled over the lip of a cave entrance, and then she followed close on his heels. She fell from the edge to the rocky floor, landing on top of him. They rolled away from each other and stared up at the small patch of fading evening light. Cory’s head popped into view.

  “You stupid—” His foot slipped on the crumbling edge, and he almost joined them. He backed away from the opening, his face disappearing from sight.

  After a few tense minutes, she panicked. “Cory, are you still there? You can’t leave us here without food or water.”

  He reappeared. “I’ll be back when I’m through with…” His mind seemed to go elsewhere.

  She unleashed her full tilt fury. “You can’t do this, you bastard. He’s your son.”

  Jake nudged her forearm, a gentle touch barely discernable. She turned to him. Gazing into her son’s eyes, she saw wisdom. “Let him go. We’re better off if he stays gone.”

  She saw the truth in his comment and closed her mouth to keep from bellowing something else up the hole. “You know where we are?”

  “Yeah. Mr. Pierce knows about this cave. When they start looking for me, he’ll think of it and come find us. I know it.”

  She had depended on Pierce to protect Jake without really knowing what sort of man he was. Johanna must trust him. She married him. The thought gave her little confidence. She knew too much about Johanna. “How long will it be before he thinks of this place?”

  He didn’t answer. His eyes roamed the cave as if searching for something. “Can I ask you something?” What would the boy want to know? “Why does that man call you Paula? I thought your name was Peyton.” He stared at her with suspicious eyes.

  “Peyton was my sister’s name. She died a long time ago. When I ran away from…” She didn’t want to explain Mason to Jake, so she modified her comments. “When I ran away, I took her name. I used her birth certificate and her high school transcript to get into college and into nursing school. It was a way to start a new life.”

  He didn’t comment, but seemed to recede into his own thoughts. He sat apart from her and ignored her as if he’d heard all he wanted to hear.

  Tears filled her eyes. She sniffed hard to keep from outright bawling.

  “Are you crying, Miss Peyton?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are. If it makes you feel better, I want to cry too.”

  “Go ahead. I won’t tell.” Knowing Jake wanted to cry made it worse. She gulped back a sob.

  “Mr. Pierce comes out here looking for this horse that got loose. He’s always trying to catch Thunder. But he won’t ever catch that stallion.” Admiration for the horse glowed in his eyes. “Thunder is wild now…but Mr. Pierce still tries. He comes out here every day.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Do you like horses?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “Art taught me to ride and to rope.”

  “Art?”

  “Mr. Pierce’s foreman.” His tone revealed he was already weary of the conversation.

  “You like it here, don’t you?”

  “I like it here a whole lot.” His anger was unexpected, but maybe it shouldn’t have been.

  “Johanna’s been good to you, hasn’t she?”

  “Yes, she has. And Mr. Pierce too.”

  The underlying meaning of his words tore at her heart. Even if they did defeat Cory and survive this horrible experience, she would never be able to reclaim her place as his mother. How could she tell her son she understood if he didn’t want her in his life? “I grew up around horses. I loved riding and roping when I was a girl. I was good at barrel racing. I won a few trophies.”

  “Art says if I get good enough, he might enter me into a rodeo.” Enthusiasm bounced in his words. “Well, if we ever get out of here.” His youthful exuberance lost steam.

  “Is there any other way out of the cave?”

  “There might be. But there’s no way we can find out in the dark. We could get lost or hurt. It’s better to stay close to the opening. This is where Mr. Pierce will look for us.”

  After that, the soft in and out of his breathing from the other side of the cave was the only noise disturbing the quiet. Her eyelids drifted downward until Jake’s sharp voice urged her to wake. “Miss Peyton!” She had dozed, maybe slept for hours. She lost track of time, all her senses disoriented and fuzzy. The lump on her head must be a concussion.

  She rose on one elbow and blinked at him. “What?”

  He pointed toward the opening. Sunshine blared through the gap. “It’s that horse.” A rope dangled through the hole. “He’s nudged his lead down here to us!” She shook her head. Was she dreaming? “I’m going to try to get out of here.”

  “Wait, Jake—”

  “Don’t worry. Thunder knows what he’s doing.”

  Jake climbed rocks and grasped for the nearest hold. He pulled himself within inches of the rope and grabbed the swaying lifeline. Balancing on a large boulder jutting from the cave wall, he wrapped the line around his waist. The horse snorted. Thuds and pings resounded on rock. The rope tightened. Jake slowly and steadily disappeared upward out of the cave.

  He stared down at her through the hole. “I’ll go get help.” And he was gone.

  ****

  It was six in the morning. Brian stood on the front porch of the lodge at Twin Rivers Ranch. Pierce had one booted foot propped on the railing. They were waiting for Johanna to come outside and tell them how Peyton was faring this morning.

  He was reluctant to leave her, but there were situations back in Durango he needed to address. Last night, she assured him she understood and urged him to go. She would come home as soon as she felt able. He still had misgivings about leaving her here.

  Johanna appeared in the doorway. “She wants to see you before you leave.”

  He rushed upstairs to her room. Her color was better. Johanna was taking good care of her. He noticed the tray of half-eaten breakfast food and smiled. She would survive the effects of the concussion.

  He lowered his tired body into the rocker next to her bed “How’s my angel of mercy this morning?”

  She groaned. “Oh please, don’t start that.” He grinned at her. “I’m no angel and you know it. And don’t ask how things are going with me. You can see how I’m doing.”

  He wanted to pull her out of her cranky mood. �
��Johanna says you’ll mend.”

  “Maybe. Look, I need to tell you—”

  “You can tell me everything later. Right now, I want you to rest.” She didn’t protest. She looked relieved. He took her hand in his and held it for a long moment. “When you get home, we’ll talk.” She nodded her agreement. “I’ll see you later, then.” Tears glistened around the edges of her eyes. He wanted to hold her like he had the night she confessed to him. He wasn’t sure she would let him. He resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her. Instead, he stood and walked toward the door. His hand was already on the knob.

  “Brian, wait.”

  He turned toward her. “What?”

  Her mood had changed—a bright, excited look on her face. “I think I know who Chris is!” She shifted on the bed. “I was just thinking about…” Shame covered her face. She shook her head as if pushing aside painful memories. “Jeff said he saw his wife.”

  The urgency in her statement alarmed him. He came back into the room and sat on the edge of her bed. A tingling sensation began in his toes and his fingertips. The spot behind his ear itched.

  “Jeff married Cory’s stepsister, Carol. The three of them got into trouble together.” She inched up and propped against the headboard. “I only met her once or twice before Jeff left. It was such a long time ago and we really didn’t know each other, but I’m sure that’s why Chris looks so familiar to me. I never could quite get the idea out of my mind that I knew someone that looked like her. I think Chris is Carol.”

  He considered her statements, suddenly understanding her urgency. He’d done background checks on both Jeff Osborne and Cory Powell. By now he knew Chris couldn’t be Carol. Jeff’s wife Carol was dead. But her twin sister, Crystal…

  Maybe she didn’t know about Crystal. He didn’t have time to explain the twisted Osborne, Powell, Stone family tree to her. Cory was still at large. “If Cory is in town and Chris doesn’t recognize him, she’s in danger. I think I’d better get back to Durango as soon as possible.”

  He glanced back at her one more time from the open door. She smiled at him—a beautiful, bright smile that radiated the prospect of things to come. It was all he needed to give him hope.