“Shut up or I’ll end it here and now. You understand?” The voice was nothing but a low growl—rough and raspy.
She jerked her head up and down and tried to breathe through the hand over her nose and mouth.
The man placed the blade of the knife in his right hand against her throat then slowly took his left hand off her mouth. When she didn’t make a sound, he wound his hand in her hair and gave a tug. She whimpered as the knife in the other hand pressed into the skin of her neck.
“I’m only saying it once. Stay out of Texas! If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. Art galleries make good kindlin’. It’d be a shame if your friend didn’t make it out of the flames.”
Marti sucked in a horrified breath. He was threatening Sandra.
“Remember, I’m watching.”
“Why are you doing this?” Her whispered voice threaded with fear.
He didn’t say a word but pulled her body away from the wall and then slammed her head against the bricks. She saw stars and slumped to the ground as the sound of running footsteps faded into the distance.
She collapsed on the damp cement. Tears blurred her eyesight. The pounding in her head beat in harmony with the throbbing in her chest. Her throat clenched with each breath, and tears burned her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she tried to inhale small calming breaths.
“I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
A popping sound in the alley made her eyes snap open. Was he coming back? Thoughts of the man returning propelled her muscles to move. Summoning strength from somewhere, she rose on shaky legs and searched both ends of the narrow passage.
Nothing.
She felt around on the ground for her purse and staggered to the end of the alley. Trudging up the fourteen steps to her apartment, she pushed the key into the lock with trembling fingers and slipped through the door. Falling against the weathered wood, she slid both locks until they were shut tight. Emotion then consumed her, and she slid to the floor against the wall and sobbed.
Not only was her life once again in danger, but Sandra was being threatened as well. Sandra and Wade were her best friends in the world. She couldn’t stand the thought of them being in danger because of her.
What was it about Texas? The only connection she’d ever had with Texas was Daniel. Was it Daniel behind the threats? Did seeing her at the reception revive his anger? Rage at the unfairness churned inside her until common sense told her that was impossible. Daniel wouldn’t be threatening her for returning to Texas when it was obvious she’d settled permanently in Tennessee. Whoever was threatening her wanted her to stay out of Texas for another reason. Would he leave her alone if she stayed in Tennessee, or would she have to move again?
She laid her head on her knees and cried until her eyes hurt.
There was only one thing she could do—stay put. She lived for three years without knowing the truth about the night of the accident—it wouldn’t kill her to live the rest of her life without knowing. Sandra and Wade were too important to her. She couldn’t risk their lives.
She would stay in Landeville and forget about Daniel. She did it once; she could do it again.
Stay away from Texas, and she was safe. Go back to Texas to confront Daniel, and everyone would suffer. As badly as she wanted there to be a choice, there was none.
SEVEN
TEXAS
SHANE DUKE PULLED ON THE lead rope attached to Prince’s head and slowed the horse to a walk. The horse shook his head and pranced around the ring adjacent to the stable, but he did exactly what he was supposed to do. Shane smiled in satisfaction. Today’s workout had produced perfect results. Prince’s will was broken but not his spirit. He’d obeyed the commands Shane had given him, but still showed the essence of a strong character.
Shane tugged the rope one more time, and Prince stopped. He slowly walked up to the horse and patted him on the neck. “Good boy. Mary said you’d learn quickly.” Remembering the day his wife first saw Prince drew his lips into a frown. When he’d unloaded that special bunch of colts he purchased from a farm in Wyoming, Mary picked Prince out of the group and said he was her favorite. She named the horse Prince because he had more “class” than all the others. That memory hurt because it was the day before they found out Mary was ill—brain tumor, the doctors said. After that diagnosis, she gave up on her family, their thirty years of marriage, and living. She died soon after.
Shane wiped the moisture from his eyes. “You’ll make Veronica a fitting mount—just like Mary planned,” he said to Prince.
“Did I hear you say my name, Daddy?” Veronica stepped into the wooden corral and stood right inside the gate.
Shane didn’t answer but looked at her jeans and satin shirt. “I thought you were riding over to Daniel’s house.”
“I am, in a little while. I wanted to ask you something first.” She waited while Shane led Prince through the gate into the pasture and pulled off the halter. The horse snorted and galloped through the field toward the creek.
When Shane turned back toward Veronica, she stood in the corral with him. Wrapping her arm through his, she leaned in close as they walked out the gate and back to the house. “I saw a gorgeous wedding gown in the bridal magazine I bought last week in town. I wanted to see if I could talk you into buying it for me.”
Shane froze in his tracks. “Wedding gown? Is there something you’re not telling me, sugar?”
Veronica veiled her eyes and flashed a smile that would have any man quivering in his boots. “Well, Daddy, I’m sure Daniel’s getting closer to proposing. Yesterday, he insisted on taking me to the International Jewelry Exhibit, and he spent a lot of time looking at wedding rings. Toward the end of the show, he disappeared for a while. I’m sure he went back to buy one.” Her voice was infused with excitement.
Shane’s stomach did a flip. “That’s wonderful news, honey. I’m happy for you. Your mama would have been so proud.” His vision blurred, but he was determined not to show his tears. He glanced down at the ground. “I guess Daniel finally realized Martha wasn’t the right woman for him.”
“Well . . . he doesn’t actually remember Martha.”
Shane turned toward her and held her hands in his. “He doesn’t remember her at all?”
Veronica shook her head with a cocky smile on her lips. “No, and I like it that way. I’ve told him all he needs to know about their farce of a marriage, and he’s ready to move on—without his memories. He said yesterday he’d rather not remember her anyway. She was a hussy and a tramp, and—”
“Hey, wait a minute, baby. Did Daniel actually say those things about Martha, or did you plant the seed in his head?
Veronica looked guilty, but she shook her head. “I didn’t actually call her names, but I told him the facts. If he calls her those things, it’s not my fault. Besides, Mama told him what Martha did, and he knows she would never lie—neither would the state patrol.”
Shane’s throat tightened. “Okay, honey, but make sure you don’t push. This has to be his idea, or it won’t work between you. Be patient, and Daniel will come around.”
Veronica pouted and gave him a petulant frown. “All right, Daddy. I won’t push, but will you buy me the dress anyway?”
Shane felt a “yes” bubbling up inside of him—no matter what the dress might cost, his Veronica deserved the best of everything. She lost her mama, and her mama had done everything she could to make Veronica happy. That meant he had to take Mary’s place and fill the void losing her mama had caused.
Before he could answer, a rider galloped through the barnyard.
Veronica scowled. “What’s Jordan Welsh doing here?”
Gerald watched as the man slid off his horse and tied the gelding to the corral fence.
“He asked about buying some of the horses I rejected from the last bunch I bought—the ones I don’t think’ll make the cut.”
“I thought he moved to California or something after Vinny died in that car accident.”
“I, uh . . . I think
he came back recently to open up the old ranch.”
Veronica sniffed and raised her nose in the air. “He acted like he cared about Vinny when he died, but after the funeral, I got the impression it was the ranch and the money that he really cared about. Remember how fast he wanted Vinny’s will read?”
“Hush.” Shane whispered as Jordan walked in their direction. Jordan shook hands with Shane and ignored Veronica.
“Shane.”
“Well, Jordan, how did you like the horses?”
“They were tolerable . . . just tolerable. It’s possible we can make a deal. How about throwing in that bay I saw you working with over there?”
Shane blew out a laugh. “Hardly. That one’s definitely not for sale.”
Jordan looked him in the eyes. “We’ll see. I bet we can come up with some kind of agreement.”
Shane hardened his eyes and shook his head. “Not for sale.”
Jordan shrugged. Then he sauntered to his truck parked beside the barn. “I’ll be in touch.”
As Jordan drove off, Veronica fidgeted beside her father. “I’m going in, Daddy, to get ready for Daniel.”
“Okay, sugar. I’m headed over to the cemetery to have a little visit with your mama.”
Veronica looked at him with a frown. “Again? You spend a lot of time at Mama’s grave.”
Shane gave his daughter a wounded look. “She likes the company, honey.”
“But she . . .” Veronica shrugged her shoulders. “All right, Daddy. I guess we can talk about that little dress matter later.” She kissed him on the cheek, and with a smile on her face, she turned and strutted back to the house.
Shane watched her go and swelled with pride. He had a beautiful daughter who deserved everything she wanted—the best horse in the state, Daniel as a husband, and, of course a stunning, gorgeous wedding dress. As a matter of fact, she deserved everything Mary had wanted her to have, wedding dress and all. Mary wasn’t around to make sure she got it, but he’d do everything within his power to make sure it was possible.
EIGHT
TENNESSEE
SANDRA WELLINGTON STOPPED DUSTING THE picture frames and stepped into the hot rays of sun filtering through the front window of the gallery. She let the warmth from the shaft of light caress her arms even as the central air vent flipped hair around her face. Basking in the sun was something she hardly had time for anymore.
As she stood there soaking in the warmth, she saw her husband park his patrol car out front and pull something from the back seat. He slammed the door and entered the gallery.
“Sandee?”
Sandra leaned forward around one of the free-standing exhibit walls and waved. “I’m over here, love.”
Wade came around the corner carrying a large bag with black foam board sticking out the top. His black hair, barely graying around the temples, was tossed awry from the wind, and a crooked grin sat plastered on his face. “I expect a big hug and my favorite supper tonight.”
Sandra jumped toward him and planted a long kiss on his lips. “You found them. Jolly good! Where in the world did you find that many pieces?”
Wade plopped the pile of foam board on the floor next to the wall and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Remember last month when Greg had a sale at the hardware store on that bunch of Swiss army knives he bought at a flea market? I remembered he used tons of this blackboard for the displays in the window, so I asked if he had any left he didn’t need. He was glad to get rid of the stuff.”
Sandra grinned. “That was a doodle for you, wasn’t it?”
“A doodle?”
“A breeze . . . a cinch . . . you know, easy.”
Wade laughed and held her tight. “That British slang of yours is why I married you, you know.”
Sandra gave him a kiss. “Thank you for remembering my blackboard. Leave it to you to remember a small detail like that. Now I can finish the preparation for next month’s space exhibit.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Details and dependability! That’s what makes you a good chief constable.”
He held her for a moment until a loud noise from the apartment above startled them both.
“What’s Marti doin’ up there? Rearranging the furniture?”
Sandra shook her head. “I hope she’s packing.”
Wade stood back and crossed his arms. “Do you really think she’ll go?”
“If you mean to Texas, I doubt it. She seemed okay with it last night, but today . . .” She shrugged. “She seems determined to forget Daniel, and she won’t even think about praying over it.”
“She needs to let God back into her heart, Sandee. He can help her find the answers.”
Sandra shook her head. “That’s something she’ll never admit. Basically, she hasn’t forgiven God for not protecting her new faith.”
Wade rubbed his hand through his hair. “I told her I’d check into the accident and Daniel’s accusations, but she won’t let me.”
“You know she needs to hear it from Daniel himself. Only he knows what happened that day. If she won’t go to Texas, I’m hoping she’ll come with Vivian and me to the art sale. If she can get away by herself and have time to think, she might see how lonely it is without God in her life.”
Wade leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “That’s why I love you so much. You’re as wise as Solomon.”
She grinned. “Thanks.” Another loud bang from upstairs made Sandra pull back. “I think I’ll run up to her flat and see if I can help her pack.”
Wade nodded. “And I have to get back to the station. We’re having trouble with the new street lamps we installed. For some reason the sensors aren’t working all the time. If I knew I had to be an electrician when I took this job, I might have turned it down.” He grinned at her and turned toward the door.
“Bangers and mash for supper.”
Wade licked his lips. “Mmm, mmm, sweetheart! Remind me to do something special for you more often.”
Sandra smiled at him as he walked through the door but frowned when another bang filtered down from upstairs. “Guess it’s time to brave the lioness in her den.”
She stomped up the stairs leading to Marti’s apartment. Getting Marti excited about a trip to Texas was as easy as getting a turkey excited about Thanksgiving. Yet Sandra knew Marti needed the trip . . . for her own peace of mind . . . for her future . . . and possibly Daniel’s as well.
When she reached the top step, she gaped through the open door of the apartment at Marti on her tip-toes—perched on a wobbly step stool. She was punching and prodding a small suitcase, trying to wrestle it into a larger bag sitting on the highest shelf of the closet.
“Marti? Do you need help?”
Marti half-turned to glance her way.
“I’ve almost got it.” One more shove and the luggage rocked against the wall. The small suitcase nestled down inside the larger one, and they both balanced on the shelf. A black overnight bag sat by itself on the floor of the closet.
Marti blew out an exasperated breath and stepped off the stool. She turned off the closet light, pulled the overnight bag and step stool out of the closet, and closed the door.
Sandra propped her hands on her hips. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but why are you putting the suitcases back in the cupboard when Wade just got them down for you yesterday?”
Marti looked down and avoided Sandra’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have gotten them out in the first place. I told you I wasn’t going to Texas,” she said as she slid the folded-up stool under the bed.
Sandra puffed her cheeks as a flow of air escaped her lips. She sat down on the bed and patted the comforter. “Sit.”
Marti shook her head. “I have things to do.”
“Sit!” This time, Sandra’s voice was a little more forceful.
Marti frowned and perched on the edge of the bed.
“Okay. Let’s have it. Why won’t you go?”
“I don’t want to talk to him—”
A loud “Fiddle sticks!” burst
from Sandra’s lips. “Like you expect me to believe that. Come on, Marti, what gives? Yesterday when you left for the homeless shelter, you were open to the idea. What changed your mind?”
Marti gave Sandra a scared look before her lips tightened and her gaze swept toward the window. The white curtains couldn’t have been any whiter than Marti’s face, and her eyes looked far away. Her hands rubbed up and down on her jeans, as if she was remembering something she wanted to forget.
Sandra softened her tone. “Come on, Marti. Talk to me. I’m your friend. I only want to help. Yesterday, you promised you’d think about going to see Daniel. What happened?”
Marti couldn’t keep back the tears any longer, and they rolled down her cheeks. Sandra leaned over and pulled Marti into her arms.
“Marti, love, what’s the matter?”
Marti sobbed against her friend until the whole story of being chased and threatened the night before burst from her lips. As Marti talked, Sandra’s fury stewed inside her. Wade would hear about this. Maybe he could find a clue in the alley to pin down this bloke.
When Marti told her the stalker threatened Sandra, Wade, and the gallery, Sandra’s anger hissed out in her next sentence. “Of all the nerve. Who does he think he is, threatening us? And Wade’s the chief constable. Marti, don’t you listen to this barmy rotter. He’s just trying to frighten you. Wade can take care of us. You do what’s best for you, and we both know that means talking to Daniel.”
Marti stood up and walked to the window. She stared out at the morning sky. “No, Sandra. I can’t do it.”
Sandra leaned back against the wall. “Why not?”
Marti didn’t answer, just stared out into the street. Sandra frowned. She’d seen that stubborn look before. It wasn’t going to do any good arguing about it. It was plain that Marti had made up her mind.
Sandra stood and shook her head. “Okay, sweetie, this is your call, but at least go with us to the art sale. It’ll do you good to get away for a couple of days.”
Marti picked up the overnight bag and smiled a trembling smile. “That’s why I left this out—in case I decided to go with you. There’s a horse competition in Vick at the same time. I thought I might go by there one day and check it out. I think a little time away might be fun.”
A Memory Worth Dying For Page 4