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Midnight Cowboy

Page 20

by Adrianne Lee


  Lee Lee jerked her head up and sucked in her breath. Nightmare Man. He was holding something that looked like a giant bird claw. His clothes were splattered with blood. And—she could see his face as clearly as if the man had stepped from the shadows of her mind into some bright spotlight.

  Her stomach lurched.

  “Hello, Lee Lee.” The voice sounded so real, so close to her that Andy blinked.

  The picture in her mind vanished. She was standing in Minna’s living room, but she was no longer alone. Her blood ran cold. Someone had joined her. Nightmare Man. His face older now, but still so recognizable. Terror grabbed her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. No scream would come.

  Nightmare Man took a step toward her.

  She dropped the phone. It clanked on the floor as she darted for the hallway. He jumped into her path and grasped her upper arm. Before she could cry out, Andy felt cold steel bite into her neck. She moaned as it cut her, spurting blood onto his shirt.

  “I don’t want to kill you here, but I will if I have to.” He held her against his chest and growled the words in her ear.

  Andy realized the only chance she might have of escaping was to buy some time. If only she could warn Jack, or get Minna’s attention. But as Nightmare Man tugged her by the hair and the throat to the parking lot, she saw Minna leading a family toward one of the cabins on the knoll.

  “Stop him.” For half a second she thought someone was coming down Main Street to her rescue. But the shout was followed by another. “Stop him. He’s stolen the orphans’ fund.”

  Andy knew then that the shoot-out was just beginning and Jack would not be rescuing her. Her whole body trembled and tears burned her eyes. Frantically she struggled to hold on to her sanity, to stave off the terror.

  Nightmare Man shoved her into her Cherokee. “You drive.”

  “I d-don’t have my keys.”

  “I do.” He dangled her key ring from one finger.

  Feeling as if her heart would explode, Andy started the engine and pulled to the edge of Main Street.

  “W-where?” It was the only word she could choke out.

  “Where else?” He gave her a chilling smile. “The Flying W.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Night offered no relief from the heat of the day. The performance seemed to move in slow motion, taking longer than ever to complete. All the while, Jack’s sense that something was wrong grew until trepidation sat on his heart like a concrete block. The second the applause exploded behind him, he turned the Appaloosa down a side street and rode it to the stable. Milling tourists impeded his progress through town, but before returning to the motel, he searched the Golden Broom for Red and Duke.

  Neither was anywhere to be seen, and his anxiety had mushroomed into full-blown apprehension by the time he entered the motel office. The tinkle of the bell scratched his nerve endings. Cats stirred at his intrusion, but paid him little heed. “Minna! Andy!”

  Minna appeared in the hallway. Worry tugged at her feline features. “I thought ya was Andy returnin’.”

  “What do you mean, returning?” His pulse lurched, then kicked into a gallop. “Where did she go?”

  “Well, I ain’t certain. I told her to stay put whilst I checked in a nice family from Minnesota, but after I showed ‘em to their cabin, I noticed that red station wagon of hers turnin’ down the road.”

  Fear lanced Jack’s heart. He hadn’t seen the Cherokee. It hadn’t come down Main Street—unless she’d driven out that way while he was at the stable. “Which direction did she go?”

  Minna pointed. “Toward the mountain.”

  Toward the Flying W. But why? “She promised she wouldn’t go anywhere without me.”

  “All I know is she was awful upset about not bein’ able to recollect who Nightmare Man was. I tried gettin’ her mind on other stuff so as it could jest come back to her on its own, but she was awful antsy.”

  “Damn. She must have thought that going out to the ranch at night would help her remember.”

  “Don’t seem like somethin’ she’d do if’n she promised ya she’d wait fer ya.”

  “No, it doesn’t….” The hair on his nape prickled. “Maybe she didn’t go of her own accord.”

  “Oh, my.” Minna’s cat eyes rounded in fear. “You think someone snuck in whilst I was helpin’ the Minnesota family?”

  “Did you see whether or not she was alone in the Cherokee?”

  Minna shook her head. “No.”

  The blood in Jack’s veins felt icy. “Get me a rifle!”

  “A rifle? Oh, my.” Minna moved with a speed Jack would never have suspected her of having, hurriedly pulling a rifle from the rack and a box of shells from a locked cupboard beneath it. She said, “We can’t let nothin’ happen to Andy.”

  “No, we can’t.” Fear tasted metallic on his tongue. If Andy really had a guardian angel, Jack prayed that angel was watching over her now.

  OH GRAM, WHY didn’t I remember in time to expose him? Desolation and terror controlled Andy, zapping her spirit, her strength to fight back. She was going to die. The future she’d fantasized with Jack would never be. The justice she’d wanted for her parents, for Jack’s father, for Wally and Coop and Karen Bradley would never happen. Bile climbed the back of her throat and slid across her tongue. I’ve let you down, Gram. I’ve let us all down.

  The light from the Cherokee’s headlights bobbed against the terrain. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her fingers ached as she drove through the welcome arch and up to the burned-out foundation of the house. He yanked on her hair, the huge metal bird claw once more at her throat. “Stop here.”

  Andy complied, a small whimper escaping her. Then she stiffened, hearing Gram’s voice as sharp inside her head as a slap. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Andrea Hart. Use that brain of yours for something constructive. You’ve outwitted this one before. Do it again. Because if you don’t—he’ll go after your Jack when he’s finished with you.

  The truth of this shot through Andy like a jolt of adrenaline. She damn well would not let Nightmare Man hurt Jack—not even if it took her dying to save him.

  Nightmare Man twisted her hair tighter. “Get out of the car.”

  Tears stung her eyes at the pain in her scalp. Awkwardly, they emerged into the night. The rising moon shone down on the homestead as huge as a supper plate in the sky, as full as it had been that awful night twenty years earlier. The air was cool this near the mountains, but sweat trickled down Andy’s spine.

  A horse whinnied, startling her. She jerked toward the sound and saw the animal tethered to a nearby alder tree. Immediately she realized its purpose—his escape.

  “I take it you plan on making it look as if I drove out here and met with a fatal accident—something like Wally Lester.”

  “Clever girl. I find tedious explanations a bore.” He shoved her to the ground, his strength incredible, in part from hours in the gym, in part from insanity.

  Andy crawled to the concrete foundation, then turned and stared at him. He was dressed all in black, including a ski mask rolled up on his head, hiding his white-white hair. In the moonlight, Gene Mott looked a creature of the night, his pale skin iridescent, ghostly, his paler eyes empty sockets in a skull.

  His voice dripped with hatred. “At long last, I will be able to leave this town and quit pretending I can’t walk. I believe I shall go to Switzerland and claim some miracle surgery.”

  Andy strove to delay the inevitable. There were all kinds of objects in the debris-littered foundation. If she could distract him, she could surely find something for a weapon. “My mother was the woman you were in love with.”

  “Ah, the beautiful Marcy. She was kind to me. For a time. Your father and I both met her at college, but until the night I confessed my love to her, I didn’t know she found me repulsive. She was such a clever liar, I’d never even guessed.”

  He looked dazed, as if he were remembering. Andy used the moment to slip up and onto the edge
of the foundation. She dipped her hand into the refuse heap behind her and scrounged for something solid with some heft.

  “I only wanted a kiss. One little kiss. What carnage it led to. You understand I couldn’t just leave it like that. I had to destroy the evidence.” He focused on her again and even in the indistinct light she could see the hatred in his eyes. “You should have stayed in bed. You should have died.”

  He started toward her. Moonlight flashed off the bronze-coated bird talon.

  Andy scrambled over the foundation and stepped out of his reach. The footing was uneven. Each step awkward. She had to keep him talking. “I remembered you were Nightmare Man before you arrived tonight. I told Minna. She’ll tell Jack and the sheriff. They’ll arrest you.”

  “For what? An accident? The sheriff cannot arrest me on the word of a woman so distraught she drove to a deserted ranch in the dark of night.”

  “They’ll know I wouldn’t come out here alone at night.”

  “But they won’t be able to prove it.”

  The sound of a vehicle bumping down the road at high speed reached them. Hope leapt inside Andy. Mott lunged at her, slashing with the talon. She lurched to the side. The talon swung through empty air, missing her by mere inches.

  Headlights stroked the night sky. “It’s too late. Help is coming.”

  “No, it’s too late for you.”

  Andy’s foot hit something solid. Losing her balance, she fell back and landed hard on her fanny. Her legs rested atop Gram’s kettle. Grasping it to her like a shield, she warded off the bird claw as it knifed toward her again. Metal clanged against metal.

  Mott swore. The headlights swept over them. He ducked his head, dragging the ski mask over his face, keeping his back toward the approaching pickup, obviously thinking he could still get away.

  The vehicle stopped just under the welcome arch. Mott came at Andy again. She jerked back, lifting the kettle. Beneath her, the flooring bowed. A new fear speared Andy. She stilled, remembering the cellar full of snakes. Mott growled and swung his arm downward. Andy batted at him with the kettle.

  The crack of a rifle rang out. Mott’s body jerked. He pitched forward. Andy curled into a ball. Mott rolled over her, landing behind her with a thud. She tasted soot and grime and absolute terror. For a split second all was silent. Then the sound of disturbed diamondbacks rent the quietude. Andy’s heart crawled into her throat.

  She inched away from Mott. He groaned and reached for her, catching the hem of her shirt. Without warning the floor beneath him imploded, dragging Mott down. He held tight to Andy’s blouse. She felt herself being sucked backward. The top button of her blouse rode up to choke her. She gasped, jerked at the next three buttons and inched backward.

  Fabric ripped. Suddenly she was free. She leapt to her feet and out of the foundation right into Jack’s arms. Minna appeared at Jack’s side, holding a rifle. “I didn’t hit him nowheres vital, but I’m afraid them snakes did.”

  Jack nodded. “The sheriff is on his way.”

  THE SHERIFF ARRIVED too late for Gene Mott, but he let Jack sit in as he questioned everyone. The next day as he watched Andy pack her suitcase, Jack told her what he knew. “Cliff had suspected his uncle could walk. However, he’d never caught him at it. But he was devastated to learn the man he’d idolized was a liar and a murderer.”

  Andy felt sorry for Cliff. “I imagine he has some hard times ahead with the publicity and the stigma that will be attached to his name.”

  “He’s in good hands. Immediately recognizing a candidate for her frustrated mothering, Minna took him in tow.”

  “What about Duke?” Andy closed her suitcase and started filling her book bag.

  Jack leaned against the desk. “He owned up to giving Mott a scorpion. But it took a while before he admitted he’d known for years that Gene could walk. Claimed he kept the secret because he felt sorry for him—some lame excuse about their being blood brothers as kids. Frankly, I think Mott had something on him, was blackmailing him, but of course he’ll never admit that.”

  “What about the welt above Red’s eye?” She shoved the dictionary into the bag and zipped the closure.

  “While he was trying to help Wally, he knocked his head against the doorframe.”

  “I guess we owe him an apology for suspecting him.”

  “I wouldn’t waste any sympathy on Red. He was as stunned as any of them to learn about Gene. But the moment it sank in, and he realized sightseers will likely show up to see where the famous author-murderer lived and died—there were dollar signs in his eyes. I swear. He offered Cliff and Minna four times what they paid for the Flying W.”

  “Well, I don’t want to earn money from other people’s unhappiness.” Andy moved to the bed, giving the room one last glance to make certain she hadn’t forgotten anything. One day she would use her experiences in Alder Gulch in a novel—not the actual events, but the emotions. She didn’t know how her writing would be affected, but it would be. From here on, her life would be different. She had a new identity, a new perspective, a new reason for living.

  She lifted her suitcase from the bed. If her future was so rosy, why did her heart feel as heavy as her luggage? But of course she knew. She was returning to Seattle—and Jack was helping her load the Cherokee as if he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough.

  For the first time in fifteen years, Jack felt like a free man. His obsession was ended, but instead of being happy, he ached from the inside of his heart to the depths of his soul. Andy was returning to Seattle, and he didn’t know how to stop her. Didn’t know if he should stop her. He tucked her big suitcase into the rear of the Cherokee. “What are you going to do now?”

  “Try and finish my book while my editor is still in a generous mood.” She sounded as if it would be a chore, the enthusiasm she’d expressed earlier for the book gone.

  “I see.” Jack nodded, but a sadness—which she had expected would vanish with his obsession—still lingered in his eyes.

  She handed him her laptop computer. “What about you?”

  He placed her computer beside her suitcase, then lifted his Stetson and raked his fingers through his hair. “The Sun will need someone to write this story, and I owe it to Wally to be that someone.”

  “He’d like that.”

  Andy settled her overnight case beside the rest of her luggage and closed the hatch, then moved to the driver’s door.

  Jack caught her arm gently. She gazed into his sage green eyes, wondering if she’d ever get over him.

  Jack gazed into her beautifully unique eyes, wondering how he’d stand not being able to look into them every day. “Andy, what about us?”

  “Don’t worry, Jack, I won’t hold you to anything.” Sadness and confusion clashed in her eyes.

  He scowled, not understanding their source. “What if I want to be held to something?”

  Her heart leapt into her throat. “Do you?”

  He kissed her gently on the lips. “I love you, lady.”

  He thought his heart would break as he waited for her to respond. Had she realized it was really her former fiance who held her heart? Would she say she didn’t know who or what she wanted?

  The sadness and confusion left her eyes, tears taking their place. “I love you, too, cowboy.”

  Jack released his breath and pulled her into his arms. He gazed down at her, gently brushing her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Do you suppose this story could have a happy ending?”

  “Well, I can’t speak for you, but my stories always end with my heroines knowing who the right man is.”

  “Am I the right man?”

  “Hmm?” She looked over his shoulder, glancing heavenward. “What do you think, Gram? Is Jack the right man for me?” Andy smiled at Gram’s answer. Then she smiled at Jack. “My darling, Gram says, ‘You’re a fool if you can’t see that.’“

  eISBN 978-14592-7556-0

  MIDNIGHT COWBOY

  Copyright © 1996 by Adrianne Lee Undsderferr />
  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part In any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter Invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, Is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the Imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly Inspired by any Individual known or unknown to the author, and all Incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks Indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Printed in U.S.A.

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Dedication

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Copyright

 

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