Wyoming Brave

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Wyoming Brave Page 16

by Diana Palmer


  “I’m Tubbs,” the man introduced himself. “The fixed-base operator at the airport here says you’re the only customer he’s got, so you must be Paul Fiore.”

  Paul chuckled. “That’s me. Okay, let’s go.”

  * * *

  TUBBS DEPOSITED HIM at the house. Ren let Paul in and shook his hand.

  “Merrie says she wants to come home,” Paul told the other man. “It’s a good thing, too. She’s been tracked here. We just found out.”

  Ren’s blood ran cold. “Been tracked here by the killer? How?”

  “The charge slip. She used her credit card at a high-end store here. It rang bells with a man we think has been monitoring her for the hit man. He uses all sorts of tech to help him find his targets. He’s wily.”

  “Used her charge card.” Ren felt like an idiot. No wonder she hadn’t thanked him for her dress and coats. She’d paid for them herself.

  He frowned. “She bought some high-ticket stuff recently,” Ren told him. “For one thing, an evening gown that was the most expensive thing in the store—and it’s a high-end store.”

  “She hasn’t told you anything about herself, has she?” Paul asked.

  “Not much, no.”

  “She’s worth two hundred million dollars,” Paul said simply, watching the shock run over Ren’s face. “Left to her by her mother. She hid money in Swiss banks for both women, so that their father couldn’t get his greedy hands on it.”

  “Two hundred million.” Ren couldn’t take it in. She was a millionaire many times over. But she didn’t act like a woman who owned anything.

  “Hey, it’s just money,” Paul joked. “Could I have a cup of coffee? I worked late on a robbery in San Antonio and I’m about half-dead.”

  “Sure. What about your pilot?” Ren asked.

  “He’s got a thermos of coffee and a good book. Hates people. Good pilot.” Paul sat down. “How you doing?” he asked Delsey with a big smile. “I’m Paul Fiore.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, thinking what a handsome man he was, with that thick, black wavy hair and dark brown eyes.

  “Tell me about Merrie,” Ren said quietly.

  Paul shrugged. “Not much to tell. The old man beat them. Both of them have scars down their backs. He used the belt doubled, with the buckle first.”

  Ren groaned out loud. No wonder she hadn’t wanted his hand on her back at the party. Or earlier, when he’d held her and wondered at the odd pattern on the back of her sweater.

  “He was a fanatic. He wanted all the towels to match, to be perfect on the racks. He hit Merrie once for having her bathroom rug off-center. And when she tried to go on a date at sixteen, he had the boy beaten and run out of town. He used the belt on Merrie because she’d dared to let a boy near her.”

  “What a life she must have had,” Ren said heavily.

  “No boys, no dates, no parties, nothing except home and television. And church, of course. He did let them go there. Isabel said that religion was all they had to hold on to after their mother died. He was a control freak. And he had a heroin habit to go with a brain lesion. The drugs finally killed him. Well, he had a heart attack because the drugs had weakened his heart. But it was drugs, all the same.”

  “Poor kids.”

  “They were. The trainer had to keep him away from the racehorses. He beat one so badly that it had to be put down. We won the Preakness with Grayling’s Pride this year,” he added with a grin. “We’re hoping to go farther with him next year.”

  “Racehorses?”

  Paul nodded. “The Grayling stables are known far and wide. Their father had his fingers in a lot of pies. Most of the money he made was illegal, but the girls’ mother left them well fixed. The racehorses were hers. You know, they’d never had anything fancy in their lives. They went shopping before Isabel and I married and bought new clothes. Isabel had been going to work in a thirty-dollar suit. Before he died, their father refused to let them get even part-time jobs. He died trying to force Isabel to marry a Middle Eastern prince he’d picked out for her, so that he’d have money for his defense. Isabel refused to do it. He went after her, but her bodyguards broke down the door. He died before they could pull him off. Isabel still blames herself. She didn’t do a thing. He just died.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ren said, his heart bruised and battered by the things he was hearing. Poor Meredith! And he’d treated her like an easy conquest. He closed his eyes on a wave of pain that sickened him.

  “Could you ask Merrie to come down, please?” Paul spoke to Delsey. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to be at work in a few hours. I don’t like to cost the government time,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Your wife must have millions, too,” Ren said as Delsey went up the staircase.

  He shrugged. “She does. So do I, a really unexpected gift from her father,” he lied. Isabel had insisted on sharing her fortune with him, but they’d put it out that her father had left it to Paul in his will, to spare Paul’s pride.

  “You still work, though.”

  “Sure,” Paul said, chuckling. “I love my job. Isabel loves hers, too. We aren’t cut out for cocktail parties and country clubs.”

  “Neither am I,” Ren said. “I like being around the livestock.”

  “I love horses,” Paul confessed. “We don’t ride the racehorses, of course, but we have some prize quarter horses that we sell for breeding stock.”

  “I thought Merrie was just above the poverty line. She doesn’t act like a wealthy woman.”

  “Neither of them do. Isabel said their mother was like that. She wore regular clothing and worked in the garden.” His lips compressed. “There’s a good chance that their father killed their mother. Isabel wants to do an exhumation and have an autopsy that isn’t rigged, like the first one was. Money changed hands and their mother’s death went down as accidental.”

  “Shame.”

  “It really is. If we do the exhumation, it will just cause the girls more pain, you know? The guy’s dead, their mother’s dead. Life goes on.”

  “Or it seems to.” Ren looked up as Merrie came down the staircase with her bag, her fanny pack and her big sketchbook.

  “Paul!”

  She put her things on the sofa and ran into his arms, hugging him. “Thanks so much for coming!”

  He patted her on the back. “No problem, kid. If you’ve got everything, we should go.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “I’ll drive you over to the airport,” Delsey volunteered, seeing Ren’s discomfort as he stared with anguish at Merrie.

  “Thanks,” Merrie said. She hugged Delsey. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”

  “It was a pleasure. I’ll miss you,” Delsey said softly.

  Merrie laid her head on Delsey’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  “Have a safe trip home, honey. Be safe.”

  “I will. You take care of yourself.”

  Delsey just smiled.

  Merrie turned to Ren with her heart breaking in her chest. Her eyes wouldn’t go past his throat. “Thank you for letting me stay here,” she said politely. “I can’t carry all the canvases with us, but if you wouldn’t mind having one of the men pack the stuff up and send it to me, I’ll send you an address label. We have a FedEx account.”

  “All right,” he said stiffly.

  “I’m ready,” she told Paul.

  They were at the door, waiting for Delsey to get her coat on. Ren looked at Merrie with regret written all over his face. His eyes were turbulent.

  “I didn’t know you at all, Meredith,” Ren said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  An apology was the last thing she’d expected from him. Her face reddened. “Thanks, Ren,” was all she could manage. She gave him one last look, winced and went out the
door with Paul and Delsey.

  Ren stood in the living room, remaining in the same spot for several minutes. All the color, all the life, was suddenly gone from the house. It was empty and gray and lonely.

  Until that moment, Ren hadn’t realized what he truly felt for Meredith. And now it was going to be too late to mend the heartbreak, to start over. She was going to leave, and her last memory of him would be one of shame and embarrassment.

  He groaned out loud as he remembered what he’d done to her, what he’d said to her. He’d made her feel cheap and useless. It wasn’t how he felt. Not at all.

  He walked back toward her studio and opened the door. There was the portrait she’d done of him. There was the painting of Hurricane. There was a sketchbook nearby with a rough outline of Delsey. There was one of Tubbs as well, and the other men. He was still astonished by the extent of her talent.

  He felt at home, here, among her canvases. His mother had loved to draw, although she wasn’t the same sort of artist Meredith was. His mother drew flowers. She drew them alone, in pots, on trees, in a garden—always flowers. She drew beautifully. He ground his teeth together. He’d pushed her out of his life over an anguished comment, one that he’d provoked himself with his educated cynicism. He’d hurt her. She’d reacted. It was that simple, but it had colored their lives for years. He didn’t forgive people. But he should have forgiven her.

  He picked up Meredith’s sketchbook and flipped through it. There, on the last page she’d used, was a self-portrait. It was only a sketch, but it touched him. Everything she was, was in that drawing. There was such vulnerability, such compassion, such kindness in those large pale eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, honey,” he whispered, touching the paper with his fingers. He drew in a long, harsh breath. Without thinking about it, he tore the drawing out of the sketchbook and took it back to his room.

  There was a frame shop in town. He’d lost Meredith, perhaps forever. But he’d have the drawing to remind him.

  Then he remembered what Paul Fiore had said. Meredith’s stalker had been here, and he’d gotten past all the sophisticated equipment Ren had placed around the ranch.

  He recalled the truck driver, the one who’d made him suspicious. He thought about Beakly and his financial situation, and he had a brainstorm.

  He picked up his cell phone and called J.C.

  “Mmm-hmm?” J.C. answered, obviously having gone to bed.

  “You can go back to sleep in a minute, J.C. Tomorrow, first thing, I want you to go see Beakly and ask how much the truck driver paid him to say he had a shipment going there.”

  “What?”

  “Just a hunch. It may be nothing.”

  “Okay. First thing.”

  “Thanks. Sorry to wake you.”

  “No problem. It was a pretty lousy dream,” J.C. said, and hung up.

  Ren turned off his cell phone. He’d get up in the morning, and Meredith wouldn’t be at the table for breakfast. She wouldn’t be here to ride out with him, to look at the cattle. She wouldn’t be sitting in front of the television, knitting.

  He closed his eyes on a wave of pain. Of all the mistakes he’d ever made in his life, this was surely the worst. Even worse than Angie and her betrayals.

  That brought back memories of how Meredith had defended him from Angie at Durward’s party. He wished he could shut his brain off so that he could sleep.

  It was almost daylight before he finally went to sleep, and he had barely two hours of it before he was up and moving out with his men. At least being exhausted from lack of sleep helped stop him from brooding about Meredith.

  CHAPTER TEN

  MERRIE WAS SILENT almost all the way home. She noticed that Paul was very tired, and she coaxed him into closing his eyes, so that she wouldn’t have to answer any questions about why she’d called him to come get her.

  She’d get enough of the third degree from her sister when she arrived home, she was certain.

  The contract killer had found her through her own stupidity. She should never have used her credit card. She recalled Ren’s odd looks when she’d mentioned her dress and the coats, and she realized much too late that he still thought she’d used his card for the expensive purchases. Delsey probably hadn’t mentioned that Merrie paid for her own things. Of course, Ren didn’t know how much she was worth. Maybe if he had, he’d have had reservations about coming on to her so strongly.

  She flushed, recalling his hunger for her, his sensual delight in her body. He was experienced, and it showed. She laughed silently. He’d probably had so many women that he couldn’t even remember their faces, so she’d had a lucky escape.

  Lucky. Sure. That explained why she was still fighting tears when they landed at the airport in Jacobsville. She wiped them away before Paul could see them and put on a smiling face for him.

  The pretense lasted only until she got in the house. Sari was waiting, her arms open. She knew without being told that Merrie wasn’t home because of the killer. She’d run from a man she cared about too much.

  Mandy was still asleep, Sari told her. “She’ll be so happy to have you home. She’s missed you so much. We all have. Especially me.”

  Merrie hugged her. “We’ve hardly ever been apart. I had fun, learning about ranching. But it’s nice to be home again.” Tears threatened again.

  “Come on upstairs,” Sari said. “I’ll tuck you in and read you a bedtime story,” she teased.

  “Thanks,” Merrie said sadly. “I could use a little TLC.”

  “Go to bed, sweetheart,” she told Paul with a loving smile. “You can get at least three more hours before you have to wake up for work.”

  “You’re an angel,” he mused, smiling. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks for coming for me, Paul,” Merrie said. “I’m sorry I called so late.”

  “Not a problem, kid,” he teased. “I work for the government. I can sleep standing up if I have to.”

  “He really can,” Sari assured Merrie when they were in her room. “I’ve seen him do it on occasion.”

  “He’s so kind. You’re so lucky, Sari,” she said. She dropped down onto her bed and let out a sigh. “I wish I was, too.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Sari asked gently, sitting beside her.

  “He thought I was Randall’s woman and treated me accordingly,” Merrie said stiffly. “When I said no, he thought I was teasing. He was so mad!”

  Sari winced and hugged her sister close. “I thought it might be something like that. You should have told him about how we were raised.”

  “I tried to. I don’t think he believed me, even from the first.” She drew back, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue from her pocket. “He’s not a bad man,” she added heavily. “But one of Randall’s other women came to stay and seduced him into getting engaged to her. When he found out that she only wanted his money, not him, he broke the engagement. Then she went online and told people he was clumsy in bed.”

  “That’s a rotten way to get even with a man,” Sari said quietly. “We’ve prosecuted cases from people who thought they were harassing someone anonymously and found out differently in court.”

  “Yes, they never seem to realize that an IP address can be traced,” Merrie agreed. She drew in a breath. “Ren asked me to go to a party with him. He knew his ex-fiancée was going to be there.” She smiled sadly. “I told her to leave him alone.”

  “My mild-mannered baby sister actually fought for a man?” Sari teased.

  Merrie laughed softly. “Yes, I guess I did. Ren was impressed.” The smile faded. “Then we went home.” She swallowed. The memories stung. She lowered her eyes. “I thought he cared about me. I didn’t realize that a man could be that way with a woman and feel nothing but desire.” She looked up with miserable eyes. “I guess I really am stupid.”

&n
bsp; “I remember how I felt about Paul,” Sari replied. “You know how it was for me. He thought I was too young. He wouldn’t take me seriously. And he was haunted by a past I didn’t even know about. It was a very rocky road to the altar.” She grinned. “But look at us now.”

  Merrie nodded. “You really did have a fairy-tale romance.” She grimaced. “Mine is more like a horror story.”

  “He might improve over time,” Sari suggested.

  “Not likely. Not where I’m concerned, anyway.”

  “It’s early days yet. Go to sleep. Relax. You’re home, now. Nobody is going to hurt you here.”

  “Are the Avengers still around?”

  Sari laughed. “Yes, they are. We’ve had them putting up more surveillance equipment. And we’ve got a houseguest.”

  “We have? Who?”

  Sari patted her hand. “All in good time. Get some sleep, honey. We’ll talk more in the morning. I have tomorrow off, since I’m doing overtime the day after as a trade-off with one of our other ADAs.”

  “You’re a nice lawyer.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Sari drawled.

  Merrie just laughed.

  * * *

  HER DREAMS WERE HAUNTED. She was lying in Ren’s arms, drowning in his kisses, when he drew back and threw her aside.

  He got up and just walked away, without looking back. She was calling to him, over and over, but he kept walking. She got to her feet and ran. She was wearing a long, expensive, gauzy gown with incredibly high heels. As she ran, she tripped over her long skirts and started falling. She called to Ren to save her, but he was gone. She fell down a hole and turned end over end over end...

  She came awake suddenly, her heart shaking her. It was only a dream. But it had felt very real. The falling part, especially. She thought of Ren as he’d been the last time she saw him, drawn and quiet and withdrawn. Paul, she guessed, had told Ren some hard truths about her past. He’d realized then how wrong he’d been about her.

  But it was too late to matter anymore. Ren’s anger was going to sting for a long time. He might feel guilty that he’d tried to seduce her when he knew how green she was, but that didn’t mean he loved her. She remembered the joy she’d felt in his company, the pleasure of just sitting with him and watching the news on TV in the evenings. She’d gotten used to being with him. In the space of a day, her entire life had changed. She knew that she’d never see Ren again, not as long as she lived. Nothing had hurt so much, not even his harsh words.

 

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