Tame Horses Wild Hearts

by Alison Paige

  Eddy glanced over his shoulder at her. He was tall and thin, but Joe had been right, she was no match for him. He hadn’t budged and his expression was stone-cold evil. “Not me. You. You’re the one who’s making me, Kate.”

  “Hey, Eddy. What’d ya got?” The little raven-haired girl was suddenly there outside Kate’s office door.

  She and Eddy flinched, but Eddy recovered quick. Swinging his gun hand behind him, he pushed the door wide. “It’s really cool. C’mon. It’s in here.”

  Kate’s flesh squirmed over her bones at the lecherous sound of his voice. “Lucy, no. Go away—”

  “Don’t move, Lucy.” Eddy looked to Kate even as he reached out and snagged the shoulder of Lucy’s Tweety Bird T-shirt. “Miss Kate didn’t mean it. She needs you to help her make a decision.”

  He dragged Lucy over the threshold. The little girl stumbled, eyes wide, as though instinct warned of a danger she couldn’t possibly comprehend. Her uncertainty played against her, kept her silent and compliant when she should’ve been anything but.

  Eddy held her in front of him, his gun hand behind his back, his free hand stroking her long shiny black hair. “Lucy, I want you to ask Miss Kate if she’ll let you see the surprise I’ve got behind my back.”

  Cold sweat tickled down Kate’s spine and between her breasts, chin trembling with an emotion she would not allow. Kate clenched her fists, jaw tight, anger warring with fear as she dropped her gaze to Lucy.

  “Miss Kate?” she asked, timid. “Can I see the surprise?”

  Kate swallowed but her voice still came as a whisper. “No.”

  Eddy leaned down and spoke next to Lucy’s ear. “Ask her why not.”

  Lucy’s big brown eyes locked with Kate’s. “Why not?”

  Eddy stood and Kate’s gaze followed. Bastard. “Because. Eddy and I are leaving. Now go.”

  Her small body shifted, but Eddy stopped her. “Thank you, Lucy. You were very helpful. Why don’t you go score another piece of cake?”

  Lucy’s sugar lust won out over trepidation. Her smile bloomed from ear to ear. “Really? Cool.”

  She raced from the office and with her Kate’s best hope of getting a message to Joe. Eddy closed the door and shoved the gun down the front of his pants. He went to the desk and grabbed the strap of his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.

  “Time to go,” he said.

  Kate held her head high and took a cleansing breath. She marched past him to the desk and slipped Joe’s ring from her finger, then set it on the picture Eddy had given her with a tiny click when it touched the glass.

  Eddy watched, his brows tightly knit. “What’re you doing?”

  “You want me wearing it to our special place?” She shrugged, fighting to keep the choke of emotion tightening her chest from showing on her face. “If you want me to keep it on…”

  She reached for the ring but stopped when Eddy touched her arm. “No. You’re right. Leave it. I’ve got something way better anyway. Let’s go. Remember, you scream or anything, the closest person to us pays for it.”

  Kate nodded then glanced one last time at Joe’s ring, at the picture below and the poem written in Eddy’s handwriting.

  C’mon, Joe. Make the connection. And then they left.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “She’s with Eddy.”

  “Where?” Clayton asked Ginny before Joe had a chance.

  “In the office, I think. But seriously, he’s a dweeb. Nothing to worry about.”

  Joe heard Ginny’s last words from a distance as he stormed down the aisle toward Kate’s office. His heart thumped in his throat, steady, choking. She was okay. She’s okay.

  He knew before he pushed open the door. The office was empty. His gaze fell on the desk, to the spark of sunlight off a band of gold. He walked to it, numb.

  “Don’t let your imagination get carried away.” Clayton scanned the empty office from the door. “She’s fine. Eddy’s just a kid. She’s safe with him. She’s safe.”

  Joe knew Clayton was trying to convince himself as much as him. Good thing. His brain didn’t have room to give a damn how Clayton was dealing with this.

  “That your ring?” Clayton asked when Joe picked up his birthday gift to Kate.

  Joe didn’t answer. Didn’t want to, didn’t need to. He rolled his academy ring between his thumb and finger. She could’ve taken it off for any number of reasons. But why leave it on the desk? Even her tight little riding breeches had coin pockets. Joe’s gaze fell to the framed glass the ring had sat on.

  A photo, familiar in several ways. He shoved his ring into his front jeans pocket and picked up the photo.

  Clayton crossed the room to the desk. “Listen, I’m sure she liked the ring. I know she did. But women are complicated. Hard to know what they’ll feel sentimental about…or not.”

  He was probably trying to be helpful. Joe just wanted him to shut up and for the constriction in his chest to ease. “What do you make of this?”

  Clayton took the photo. “Looks like it’s from her stalker. There were a ton of people here today. How the hell did he drop this off without anyone seeing him?”

  “We all saw him,” Joe said. “Just didn’t know it.”

  Clayton blinked. “Shit. He was at the party.”

  “Right.”

  “You think he took her? We have to call the cops.”

  “No point. They won’t come.” Joe could almost hear Clayton’s mind clicking. He didn’t have time to wait. “Where’s Eddy sleep?”

  “Eddy? Why? I mean, the kid’s got a crush but he’s harmless.”

  Joe exhaled, slow, easy, trying to calm the apprehension coiling his muscles. He raked a hand through his hair, closed his eyes and tried to count to three. One. “Clayton. Where—does—he—sleep?”

  “Boys cabin. Number two.”

  Joe pushed past him out the door. Clayton dropped the photo back on the desk and followed at his heels.

  “You got a cell?” Joe asked, his feet crunching loud over the white gravel drive to the service road. The doors to the mess hall were open across the road in front of him. The lights were on, but the building was empty. Everyone was at Kate’s birthday party. Everyone but Kate…and Eddy.

  “Here.” Clayton jogged to catch up. He shoved the phone into Joe’s hand.

  Joe figured he was probably the last person in the free world not to own a cell phone. He hated the things. Too intrusive. Like a noisy neighbor following him around asking questions twenty-four-seven. If he wasn’t near a phone, he didn’t have time to talk.

  He flipped it open as they walked and found the internal phonebook quick enough. Kate’s number was number one on Clayton’s speed dial. Would’ve bugged the hell out of him this morning. Now he’d counted on it. Joe pushed the button. The connection clicked. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Clayton and Joe crunched across the service road and the phone rang again.

  On the eighth ring Kate’s voice mail picked up. The sound of her voice made his gut twist.

  “Kate. It’s me. Call back.” Joe clicked it off and dialed again. This time the call went straight to her voice mail. Joe shut the phone and shoved it at Clayton.

  “What?”

  “Someone turned off her phone.”

  “Maybe she’s just out of range.”

  “It’d keep ringing. Goes to voice mail when the phone’s off.” Joe didn’t like cell phones. That didn’t mean he didn’t understand how the systems functioned. It was one of those things that came in handy in his line of work.

  “Maybe she was calling you back at the same time.”

  Joe grabbed the phone again, trying not to let his hopes leap. He pushed the button. Her voice message picked up. He shoved the phone back to Clayton. Dammit.

  They jogged the steps to the boys cabin side by side. Joe reached the door first and pushed it open.

  “Where?” He scanned the large one-room cabin.

  Left and right of the door were matching single beds with fo
ot lockers at the ends, nightstands, shelves filled with personal items and a basic armoire each. Next to them following down both sidewalls were three sets of bunk beds, six total, with armoires in between.

  Beyond the two lines of bunk beds were another set of single beds, one on each side, and the same setup of nightstand, shelf and armoire each. Directly opposite the door on the far wall was a large fireplace framed in river stone like the ones in his and Kate’s cottages. Twelve campers and four counselors lived here, and there was no sign of Kate.

  “Last on the left,” Clayton said. “I think.”

  Joe threw a dark glance over his shoulder then marched down the aisle between the beds.

  When he reached the end of the cabin he bent for the footlocker handle on the left. Eddy Reynolds was written in black marker on a strip of masking tape on top. “Locked.”

  “What’re you looking for anyway?”

  “Proof. Direction. Fuckin’ anything.”

  Clayton swung past him and went to the nightstand. He rummaged through the little drawer and searched the shelves while Joe knelt beside the bed. Nothing more than gut instinct had him running his fingers along the underside of the bed frame. When he fumbled over the metal key his breath exploded out of him in a huff of relief.

  He went to the locker and opened it. Clayton noticed when the lid clunked against the footboard of the bed, and came over.

  “Looks normal enough,” Clayton said.

  Joe’s quick scan took in the shallow tray on top, magazines, a deck of cards, flashlight, bug spray, spilled bottle of talcum powder, a couple pens and pencils and a pocket knife. He lifted the tray and set it on the floor. School books, sweatpants, a couple towels, but Joe shoved his hands beneath the obvious piles and felt a cool metal cylinder. He pulled it out.

  “Damn, nice camera,” Clayton said.

  Joe turned it over and flipped it around, examining it. “High-powered lens.”

  He handed it to Clayton and focused on the locker again. He shoved the clothes and books out onto the floor, uncovering a device about the size of a five-pound bag of sugar. “This one of those digital printers? Prints pictures straight off the camera?”

  “Yeah,” Clayton said, distracted.

  Joe grabbed a white envelope peeking from under the little printer. He opened it as he stood, thumbing through the stack of photos. “These are all Kate.”

  Then he reached the last few. They were still of Kate, except Joe was always close by. He pulled out the last photo. It was dark, grainy, but there was no mistaking the image. Him and Kate in the lake. The black water hid their lower bodies, but Joe knew damn well they’d been in the middle of sex. Son of a bitch.

  “Look at this.” Clayton stared at the back of the camera.

  Joe shoved the lake photo into his back pocket and traded Clayton the rest for the camera. The display window showed an image still on the memory card. “Same photo he left in the office.”

  Clayton snorted, more confused disbelief than humor. “So what’s this mean? Eddy wouldn’t let anything happen to Kate.”

  Joe shoved the camera back into Clayton’s hands and headed for the door. “Eddy is what happened to Kate.”

  Clayton jogged after him. “What’re you going to do?”

  “Going after her.”

  “You know where he took her?”

  “It helps.” Joe shook off the attitude. The guy was just as worried as he was. “That’s why he gave her the picture. Means something to him.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Clayton said, finding Joe’s stride and matching it.

  “No. Call the cops.” Joe crunched down the drive to the stables.

  “You said they wouldn’t come.”

  “That’s when we thought she’d been kidnapped.” Joe turned into the tack room. “Now we know.”

  “And that’ll make a difference?” Clayton stopped at the door.

  “Probably not. But throwing around her daddy’s name might.” Joe loaded his arms with his borrowed saddle and pad then headed down the aisle toward Sunshine’s stall. He’d left her bridle on when he went looking for Kate.

  “You want me to use her father’s clout to pull strings?”

  “Fuckin’eh. ’Bout time that name did her some good.” Joe dropped the saddle and went into the stall to grab Sunshine. “If that doesn’t work, call the man himself. Tell him Garity says his kid needs him.”

  “She’s not gonna like this.” Clayton watched while Joe threw the saddle and pad over the gray mare’s back and tied the girth.

  “She doesn’t—”

  “Get a vote. I know,” Clayton said. “Hey, Garity.”

  With a foot in the stirrup, Joe pulled himself up then swung his leg over Sunshine’s rump and sat. “Yeah?”

  “You love her.”

  “Right.”

  “Prove it. Bring her home.”

  “I can do that.” Joe yanked the reins and Sunshine spun around to face down the long aisle.

  “Horse in the hole,” Joe yelled and gave Sunshine one sharp kick to her ribs. The mare’s weight shifted back then launched forward, thundering them down the aisle and out the far end like a bullet from a gun.

  He cut the corner at the service road, laid the reins against her neck and shifted his weight to steer her between the cabins. He kicked her again when her hoofs hit the path to the river, once more as they traced the river’s edge toward the bum slide.

  Dammit, this was his fault. This is what happened when he let himself care about the principal. If he hadn’t been worried about making Kate happy, about being too protective, too overbearing, Eddy wouldn’t have gotten near her. It’d never happen again. He’d keep the necessary emotional distance between him and his principal from now on.

  He’d nail Eddy to the wall, get Kate safe, then marry her. She wouldn’t be his principal anymore, she’d be his wife. And pity the man who threatened his wife.

  Sunshine galloped into the clearing near the waterfalls quicker than he’d expected. Joe threw his weight backward, pulling hard on the reins. The mare’s weight shifted. She slid on the backs of her legs several feet. Joe jumped off before she’d found her footing again and ran toward the shoreline.

  The river’s edge was barred from sight by a thick wall of trees except through a narrow walking path. Joe ran blind, not knowing what he’d find when he breached the forest wall on the other side. If not for fast backpedaling footwork, he’d have tumbled right into the rushing water.

  His left foot slid over the muddy edge and he dropped to his ass, his hands bracing behind him. Joe pulled his foot back, his sock sloshing inside his sneaker. “Shit.”

  A quick glance up and down the river revealed nothing. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the picture of Kate at the bum slide had nothing do to with where Eddy had taken her.

  No. Joe knew he was right. He felt it in his gut and trusting his gut had never steered him wrong. He exhaled, forced himself to shift gears, become the guard, the cop, and push the panicked lover to the back recesses of his mind. He scanned downriver, slower, dividing the search area in sections. Methodically his gaze searched background, then foreground then shifted to the next section.

  He’d thoroughly covered a one-hundred-eighty-degree panorama and found nothing. Joe exhaled, closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. Where else could Eddy have taken her?

  And then he heard it, above the rumble of water, like distant whispers, voices. Joe opened his eyes and narrowed his vision, using his best guess at which direction. Movement. Up on a higher outcropping of shoreline, near the cliff the counselors called the high dive, something caught his eye. He kept watching and within seconds he saw it again, only this time he recognized it as a thick braid of dark cinnamon hair.

  His chest squeezed, muscles coiling, brain locking on to years of training. He kept low, made it back to the shelter of the trees. He gathered his pant leg above his ankle and pulled his gun. Clicked the safety off.

  The weight of his weapon felt good in
his hands. He practiced religiously, was a damn good shot, though he’d only drawn twice in his years as a cop. Never pulled the trigger on anyone. It was usually the first question people asked when they found out he used to be a cop. Ever shoot anyone? No, he hadn’t, and that was a good thing, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t.

  Crouching, Joe circled around through the trees, finding the path of least resistance. The roar of the waterfalls grew louder the farther upstream he traveled, keeping his approach silent. In minutes he’d closed the distance and followed the shoreline as it rose higher and higher above the river.

  He stopped when he reached the clear patch of ground from the trail that led over the edge of the high-dive cliff. Eddy and Kate were another twenty or so yards farther upstream where the precipice jutted out thirty feet above the water.

  Joe could only see Kate’s back, but Eddy was facing in his direction. His shiny pock-scarred face was tense and reddened, his brow low, lips snarling back from his teeth as he spoke. Kate stood in front of him hugging her elbows, shaking her head. She was talking, but Joe couldn’t hear. There was a backpack on the ground near Eddy’s feet. It was open with a crumpled ball of wrapping paper next to it.

  Joe had to get closer. If he kept low and moved quick, he could cross the open ground and find cover again in the small patch of forest that still separated them. His muscles tightened, ready to bolt, but then a flash of light froze him to the spot. The fuckin’ little prick had a gun.

  Sunlight glinted off the barrel when Eddy waved it to emphasize his words. His actions spoke volumes. Eddy had no concept of the damage a gun could do. Joe’s mind clicked over the good and bad of it, weighed his options. The good, Eddy was likely a lousy shot with little or no experience, and the bad, he didn’t know enough to be scared to pull the trigger.

  Shit.

  Joe rolled his head on his neck, loosened muscles and moved when Eddy turned away. He’d closed the distance by nearly half and come as close as he could in secret. Eddy and Kate stood beyond the tree line in the center of a fifteen-foot stretch of open ground to the edge of the cliff. Joe leaned behind the very last tree between them.