The clear night amplified sound, and Billy could easily count the steps as Jesse climbed the stairs.
“Annie, sweetheart, I know you’re up there. Don’t be mad at me, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Chapter Twenty
Annie thought she would have a heart attack as Jesse’s words accompanied him up the stairs. Even though she’d only just wished her men were here, the last thing she wanted was for them to be in harm’s way.
She’d die before she let anything happen to them.
Veronica was beside her in an instant. Annie felt the gun pressing against her back.
“Get rid of him.” The other woman hissed.
Then he was there, opening the screen door, stepping inside. Annie’s heart was in her throat. If Jesse turned his head to the right, he’d see an unconscious man bleeding on her floor. Instead, he shot a wide smile at her and Veronica.
“Why, hello there, Ms. Ferris. I guess you ladies have a girl’s night thing going on, don’t you?”
“As a matter of fact,” Veronica said.
“Well now, I surely don’t want to go interrupting that. I’ll let you ladies get back to whatever it was you were doing just as soon as I set things right with Annie. I cheesed her off some this afternoon, telling her she rode a horse like a sissy city girl.”
He’d said no such thing. Oh, God. He knew! He knew something was wrong and was getting ready to play hero.
Jesse flashed another wide grin. “I am sincerely sorry, Annie. Can’t we kiss and make up?”
From behind them, glass exploded. Annie jumped as Veronica squealed. Everything seemed to play out in slow motion. Veronica spun around on her heels, bringing the gun up to meet the new threat. Jesse leapt forward, arm outstretched, reaching for Annie
No time to think, Annie grabbed the cutting board off the kitchen table, clutching it in both hands. Executing a pirouette that might have gained applause on a ballet stage, she slammed the board against Veronica’s right arm, knocking her aim off just as a shot rang out. When she realized the other woman still had hold of the weapon, Annie smashed the board against her again.
Veronica cried out as she fell to her knees, clutching her arm.
“Shit. Holy shit!” Jesse said as he reached her.
The next thing Annie knew, Jesse had his arms wrapped around her. He held her tight, and she wasn’t sure who was trembling more—her or him.
“Don’t ever get mad at me and come after me with that board, woman. You’re dangerous.”
Annie laughed, the idea that anyone would think her dangerous somehow delightful. Spotting movement by what used to be her living room window, she lifted her head from Jesse’s chest in time to see Grant swing down from the roof and climb into the room.
“Be careful! There’s glass everywhere.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Grant’s softly spoken words emphasized the near shrillness of her own She closed her eyes for one moment and shivered. She never wanted to go through another day like this one for the rest of her life.
Grant came over and hauled her into his arms. Jesse stayed put, not backing up that one step he usually did when Grant moved in on her. And then she felt his arms surrounding her to create the best group hug in the world.
In the distance, the blare of a siren could be heard.
“That will be the sheriff now,” a male voice said.
For the first time, Annie noticed Billy Woods was standing in her apartment. He seemed a little ruffled for having just crashed through the window, feet first, but really none the worse for wear. He’d been crouching by Rick, checking him over, she supposed. The way he used one of her dishtowels as a compress against the scumbag’s injured shoulder told her Rick was still alive. When Billy stood up, she noticed he had the gun Veronica had dropped tucked into his waistband.
Veronica remained crouched on the floor, still clutching her arm and weeping. Annie realized that the danger she’d been in was truly over.
“Nobody is who they appeared to be, apparently,” she muttered, giving Billy a sharp look. “Are you a cop? Because if you are I’m going to report your ass for using my men the way you just did, putting them in danger. That woman had a gun!”
“She’s a fierce little thing when she’s riled,” Billy said, aiming his comment at her men. Annie took one step toward him and he raised both hands. “I’m not a cop. I’m a bounty hunter.”
“Bounty hunter? Then you’re after my worthless brother-in-law?”
“No, ma’am. I’m after Aphrodite’s Tears.”
* * * *
The only one getting impatient with Annie was Billy Woods. Sitting in Jesse’s kitchen, a steaming mug of cocoa in front of her, her men on either side of her, Mr. Tinkles clutched to her chest as he had been during many of the traumas of her life, Annie let Billy’s impatience roll off her.
“I’m not implicating Veronica in planning the theft. She had an affair with my husband. She found out about the heist. She decided to try to cash in after his death, by retrieving the gems. Pardon me, but isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t just shoot a man.”
“The man was trying to rape me.” Even now, several hours later, Annie could barely get the words out. She’d given her statement to the sheriff, of course. But she’d omitted any mention of Veronica’s confession. She hadn’t planned it, but she did owe the other woman for saving her from a fate that might very well have been worse than death. Under the circumstances, there would be no charges filed against Veronica. She had a broken arm, and had been taken to have that seen to.
Rick, under armed guard, had been transported to the hospital in Laramie where he was expected to make a full recovery. The police had already laid several charges against him. When they’d located his car just a few blocks from her store, they’d found extra ammunition for the gun, and several maps with a route to Mexico marked out. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Rutherford had been shot with his own weapon.
Annie turned her attention back to Billy. “Besides, you said you had my place ‘bugged’, something I’m pretty sure is illegal and which I can have you charged over.”
“I did have it bugged, as you well know, since you made me remove the damn device before we boarded up your window.”
“Then if you think she confessed, why don’t you just use your copy of the taped conversation to have her arrested?”
He just stared at her and she didn’t think he’d answer her. Then, hissing through his teeth, he said, “The tape ran out.”
“Can I get you anything, honey?” Grant stroked a hand down her back.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” She took a sip from her cocoa then petted Mr. Tinkles’ short brown scratchy fur.
Jesse’s hand rested on her other arm. Surrounded by love she felt much better.
“Will you two talk some sense into your woman, please? Rutherford isn’t a reliable witness. If Annie doesn’t come forward to testify, chances are Veronica will never be charged with anything more than unlawful use of a firearm.”
“We’re planning a long and happy life with Annie,” Grant said.
“That means we won’t try and persuade her to change her mind when she appears to be completely set on something.”
“Shit.” Billy shoved his chair back from the table. He paced the kitchen, and Annie couldn’t decide if he was trying to walk off his anger or think of a new argument to try and get her to change her mind.
“So tell me about this bounty hunting thing you do,” she said. “I’ve heard of bounty hunters who go after bail skippers and fugitives. I’ve never heard of one who goes after things.”
“Not just things,” Billy said. “You’re really not going to change your mind about Veronica, are you?”
She looked at him for a long moment. She imagined she would be having nightmares for some time to come. She recalled the terror she’d felt as Rick Rutherford lowered the fly of his pants. “Between the time
when Rick broke into my place and you guys arrived, nearly an hour had passed. He said he was going to rape me, then beat me. He would have if not for Veronica.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
“Mother of God.”
Jesse and Grant’s oaths echoed softly. Annie hadn’t stopped to think what saying that out loud would do to her men. When they gathered her close, together, she held on until they all stopped trembling.
Annie accepted the tissue Billy held out to her and mopped up her tears.
“Like I said, not just things. I go after heavily insured things that the insurance companies have paid out on.”
“So you recover them and what? You collect a fee? If you find this necklace…”
“Aphrodite’s Tears,” Billy supplied.
“Aphrodite’s Tears. Like a goddess would have given anyone anything in apology. Who thinks these things up?” Annie scoffed. Both her men chuckled, and even Billy smiled.
That was good. She wanted Billy to smile. She needed Billy to smile. “So if you’d recovered Aphrodite’s Tears, the insurance company would have given you a fee?”
“Yes, ten percent of the recovered value. For example, the necklace was insured for ten million dollars.”
“Ten million dollars? Ten million dollars? Who in the hell would pay ten million dollars for one necklace? My God, are people nuts?” Annie couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“No, Annie. It was insured for ten million. But its value, if sold, is far more than that.”
“Does the client get the necklace back if he pays back the insurance money?” she asked. “Depends on the contract. The one Lloyd’s had issued for Aphrodite’s Tears stipulates that if the money is paid out under a claim, then the necklace belongs to the insurance company and can be sold. And not just for the amount Lloyd’s paid out, either. This was a custom policy. Cheaper for Piers that way, but not if the thing was recovered, of course.”
“So if the necklace was recovered, and given over to Lloyd’s then it could be sold?”
“Yes. Likely through Sotheby’s at special auction. And the person recovering the necklace would make ten per cent of the sale.”
“Any idea how much it would go for?” Jesse asked.
Annie could tell just by the way he’d asked that he was getting into the spirit of the conversation. However, he still didn’t seem to have any idea where Annie was heading.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on certain websites that ponder just such questions. Latest estimate is between twenty-five and thirty million.”
“Good Lord. So the person who recovers the necklace would get two and a half to three million dollars?”
As she watched, Billy went perfectly still. “You mean,” he said quietly, “that I would get between two and a half and three million dollars.”
“Well, yes. If you were the one to turn it over to Lloyd’s.”
He sat back, closed his eyes. She knew her men were looking from him to her and thinking— just as she knew Billy was thinking.
Before tonight, she’d never even heard of Aphrodite’s Tears. She’d had no idea her husband had been involved in a jewel heist, or that he’d retained possession of the stolen goods afterwards. That they had been in his possession, more or less, when he died. She hadn’t known the truth about him, or Veronica, or Billy.
When first Rick, and then Veronica, demanded she hand over the necklace, she’d been telling the truth when she told them she had no idea where the gems could possibly be.
But a few hours had passed and the shock had begun to wear off. She’d been able to think.
She hadn’t known where the necklace was a few hours ago, but she did now. In fact, Rick Rutherford had more or less told her where it was.
Billy opened his eyes, sat forward. “What do you want?” He flicked a glance at first Jesse, then Grant. When her men just sat back, continued touching and comforting her, he returned his gaze to hers. She shook her head slowly.
“Half.”
“Half. So…you and I would split the fee. Just the two of us. You’d cut your men out of the deal?”
“I know my men,” she said softly.
“After everything Annie’s been through because of that SOB she was married to,” Jesse said, “she deserves every cent recovering that thing will give her. I wouldn’t dream of taking even a penny of it.”
“Ditto,” Grant said.
Billy’s head bowed, as if that had been his last chance to win.
“Cheer up, Billy. Splitting the money only two ways works better for you than splitting it four.”
“True. Okay. Partners, then.”
“Uh uh,” Annie said. “Needs to be written down and notarized.”
“Not very trusting, are you?” Billy asked.
“After tonight’s activities and revelations?” Annie asked.
Though it was nearly ten o’clock on a Sunday night, it didn’t take long for arrangements to be made. Grant placed a phone call to his godfather, who was a Justice of the Peace for the county. Jesse went into his office and wrote up an agreement on his computer, printing out several copies. By eleven o’clock, the document had been signed and witnessed, the Justice of the Peace thanked and sent on his way, and a new pot of coffee brewed.
“You didn’t know before tonight where they were, did you?”
Billy asked that, and his statement of faith in her character pleased her.
“No, I really didn’t. I didn’t even know they existed.” She smiled around a yawn.
“Well? Do we head over to your place now? I know it’s late, but I would like to get this done and over with,” Billy said.
“No need. Does anyone have a pen knife?”
Grant fished one out of his pocket and handed it to her, a shiny one with a tiny blade. She held Mr. Tinkles up, looked into his faithful face for one long moment.
“Sorry, old man. I’ll have you fixed again, I promise.”
She turned the bear over and laid him on the table. She’d examined him carefully earlier—truthfully, the first time she’d done so in years. She noticed the stitching along his spine, newer thread than the rest of him had, and she’d known.
Carefully, so as not to cause any more damage than necessary, she sliced through the stitches on the old bear, opening him butt to neck. Easing back the two sides of fifty-year-old cloth, she reached inside. Mr. Tinkles had been made at a time before modern stuffing and consumer protection laws. What came out of him resembled the grass used to fill Easter baskets, but this was brittle and yellow, and much diminished in volume than in years past. For some of it had been removed and replaced with a small, soft blue felt jewelry pouch.
She handed the pouch to Billy, who laid it on the table and opened it.
Dozens of diamonds held in settings of ancient gold glittered in the kitchen’s artificial light.
Chapter Twenty-One
There’d been no time or energy the night before for anything but a long, warm snuggle in bed. With a hot, hard male body on either side of her, exhaustion caught up to Annie and she dropped into sleep.
When she opened her eyes the next morning, she saw sunlight streaming into the room, making a sunspot on the floor. As the fog of sleep dissipated and her mind began to work, the reality of the day, and likely the time, intruded. She sat up, looking for a clock.
“Hey.”
Jesse had spoken, but Grant was there, too. Each put a hand on her arm and coaxed her back down on the bed.
“I need to open the store.”
“Not today, baby,” Grant said. “Today, you need to rest and let us take care of you.”
“You went to sleep so fast last night, you had us worried,” Jesse added.
How wonderful it felt to lay safe and secure and snug between her two lovers! How amazing to reach up with both hands and stroke beloved faces.
“I guess I was pretty stressed out.”
“An understatement.” Jesse pulled the blankets down, baring her to the waist. Instinct moved her
hand, jerking them back into place.
“Annie?” The concern in Grant’s tone, the sudden wariness on Jesse’s face nearly brought her to tears.
“I have to shower first.” She looked from one face to the other. “Please. He touched me. I…I don’t feel clean.”
Grant moved first, hauling her into his arms, squeezing her so tight, she wondered if she’d be able to breathe. When he released her, Jesse stroked a hand over her hair, then bent and kissed her.
“Tell you what. Grant and I will play lady’s maid today. We’ll bathe you.”
“I haven’t been bathed since I was a baby,” Annie said.
* * * *
She’d imagined lounging for hours in this massive round tub the first time she’d laid eyes on it. Because it dominated half of the fabulous space Jesse had created, the tub—surely an inadequate name—inspired all sorts of decadent fantasies. One image that formed in her mind featured lit candles music playing, fragrant steam and hot water soothing sore muscles.
Reality proved far better than imagination.
Instead of candlelight, daylight softly accented the room. Fresh air, from the constant Wyoming wind, streamed in the open window, carrying with it the rare scent of rain, as intoxicating a fragrance as any scented wax. The heat of water, the jets set on low, and the lush jasmine-scented steam soothed her.
Gentle hands, caressing, laving, healed her.
They’d left her in bed until the tub was ready. Then Jesse carried her into the bathroom. They’d waited until she let go of the sheet he’d wrapped her in.
She couldn’t understand why she felt so shy, revealing her flesh to these wonderful men who’d seen and touched every inch of her numerous times already.
“It’s because someone tried to take what we have and are to each other and make it ugly,” Grant said softly. It amazed her that he understood her emotions when she hadn’t understood them herself. He was right. That was exactly why she’d felt shy. No, not shy. Ashamed.
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