The Truth About Jane Doe

by Linda Warren

  She rubbed the steering wheel with one hand. “Yes, but I have to do it very carefully. They both have bad tempers, and I’m afraid they’ll go after the Townsends….”

  Turning in his seat, he rested his arm along the back. “The police are still investigating, but they need proof before they can proceed with anything.”

  “Proof?” she echoed hollowly. “How about this feeling in my gut?”

  With one finger he gently touched her face, although he could immediately feel her pulling away from him. “I’m afraid that’s not enough. We gave the police a good description of the truck, but since it didn’t have a license plate, that makes it difficult to trace. They just need some time.”

  She didn’t say anything. Maybe she needed time, too. But he didn’t let her go.

  “When this is over and I’m no longer the Townsends’ attorney, I’d like to call you. You can reacquaint me with the good eating places in Coberville.”

  Her eyes pierced him with an expression he didn’t understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  One eyebrow darted up in amusement. “Yeah, I believe that’s what they call it—even around here.”

  “I don’t think I can go,” she answered in that quiet voice.

  “Why not?”

  She sighed. “Don’t push it, Matthew. I’m tired and I might just tell you.”

  He reached out and caught her arm. “Tell me,” he urged. “Because every time I’m near you or I touch you, like now, I can feel you pulling away from me. Why, C.J.?”

  “Please, don’t,” she said, yanking back her arm.

  “Tell me,” he persisted.

  “I’ll make you a deal. Tell your mother you asked me for a date, and if she reacts in a positive manner, I’ll go out with you.”

  “Wait a minute.” He frowned. “What’s my mother got to do with this?”

  “Just tell her.”

  “Not until you give me a reason.”

  “Oh, Matthew.” She sighed again. “Why are you doing this? Can’t you see I don’t want to tell you?” She paused.

  “Besides, it’s just something I feel.”

  He eyed her for a moment. “Tell me,” he said, knowing he couldn’t get out of the truck until she did.

  “Okay.” She slapped the steering wheel with both hands. “But remember, you asked.” She took a deep breath. “Your father was nicer to me than anyone in this town. And yet your mother, a good Christian lady, dislikes me intensely. There has to be a reason for it.”

  “And you think it’s…?”

  She looked directly at him. “Your dad might also be mine.”

  “What?” He drew back as if she’d hit him.

  “You heard me.”

  He shook his head as if to rid himself of the ugly thought. But so many things suddenly became clear in his mind—their talk on the way to Austin, her pushing him away. “Let me assure you of something. My dad is not your father.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “I just am. I know my parents. They were devoted to each other. My dad would never have been unfaithful to my mom.”

  “But you can’t be positive.”

  “I am, dammit,” he said, not liking where this conversation was going. “Besides, I thought you believed one of the Townsends was your father. Isn’t that why we went through all this today?”

  “You don’t understand, do you?” Her eyes held his. “I don’t know who my parents are. Because of Victoria’s will, I thought the rumors might be true, but I don’t know. Just like I don’t know why your dad was so nice to me.” Both hands gripped her head. “Can’t you see I just don’t know?”

  Her pain was almost a tangible thing. He tried to comfort her. “C.J….”

  “It’s awful not knowing.”

  All the fears and doubts she’d lived with every day of her life were in her voice, and it tore at his heart. He had to take some of the pain away. “My dad is not your father.”

  She stared at him. “But you’re not sure. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I am, C.J. I’m very sure.”

  From the look in her eyes, he knew there was only one way to settle this. “Okay, I’ll ask my mother,” he told her. “Will that satisfy you?”

  “Yes,” she said, the tension leaving her face.

  “Good.” He forced a smile and climbed out of the truck. “And you get ready for that date, because I’ll be seeing you when this is over. You can count on it.”

  He stood on the curb and watched the taillights disappear from view. He felt as if he’d just been kicked in the stomach and was still trying to catch his breath. She thought they could be blood-related. The idea almost paralyzed him. They couldn’t be. No way in hell.

  As he hurried up the walk to the front door, he repeated that to himself. But a disturbing question kept intruding. Why didn’t his mother like C.J.? She didn’t normally dislike someone without reason. He would find out, he vowed, and put an end to this bizarre turn of events.

  When he opened the door, the aroma of food cooking greeted him. His mom appeared in the kitchen doorway with an apron around her waist, and for once there were no tears in her eyes. She still had bad days, but he knew that soon she’d be able to handle things on her own.

  “Oh, you’re home. We’re having meat loaf and…” Her voice trailed off as she noticed his clothes. “You were wearing a suit when you left this morning. What happened?”

  “Just a moment,” he said. “I have to make a phone call and then I’ll be right with you.” He went into his dad’s study and called Pete Watson. Pete didn’t ask any questions and Matthew was grateful for that.

  His mother was waiting anxiously in the living room. He put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the sofa, telling her about his day. When he finished, she hugged him tight. “Oh, Mattie, I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had happened to you.” Her blue eyes grew stormy. “It’s all that girl’s fault. She causes nothing but trouble. I tried to tell your dad, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t C.J.’s fault. Someone tried to kill her, not the other way around.”

  “I don’t care. That girl is nothing but trouble.” She twisted her hands nervously.

  “Mom—”

  “Please.” She stopped him and got to her feet. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Supper will be ready in a minute.”

  He watched her go into the kitchen, food the last thing on his mind. This wasn’t like his mother. She was a loving, caring person who always tried to see the best in people. Why did she have such hostile feelings toward C.J.?

  All through supper he tried to turn the conversation to C.J., but his mom always changed the subject. He could have forced the issue, but somehow—and it made him feel like a coward—he didn’t want to know. He didn’t think he could handle the thought of C.J. being his half sister. God, what was he thinking? There was no way! But still he couldn’t shake that sense of foreboding.

  TELLING PETE AND HARRY what had happened didn’t go well. They were angry, very angry, but C.J. managed to calm them, and they promised not to do anything rash.

  She went to sleep worrying about Matthew. Had he asked his mother? What did she say? And the most burning worry of all—how would she feel if they were related? No. They couldn’t be. After all the years of looking and waiting to find her family, she knew she didn’t want Matthew to be part of that family. She was beginning to feel things for him, and none of those feelings had anything to do with brotherly love.

  HER LUNGS WERE TIGHT. She had a burning sensation in her eyes and throat. She couldn’t breathe and she was being pulled down, down, to a dark watery grave.

  “No!” she screamed, and sat bolt upright in bed.

  Pushing hair from her face, she sucked air into her lungs. It was only a dream, she assured herself. She was safe. She crawled out of bed and looked at the clock. Barely six. Pete and Harry should be up, but the house had an eerie stillnes
s about it.

  She pulled on her jeans and dashed down the hall to the kitchen. Two empty coffee cups sat on the table, but Pete and Harry were nowhere in sight. Where could they be? They wouldn’t do anything crazy, would they? They’d promised.

  Running outside, she checked the garage. The trucks were still there. But her relief didn’t last. Glancing toward the corral, she noticed their horses were gone. Damn, there was only one place they’d go on horseback.

  Seven Trees. The Townsends’ ranch.

  GUNFIRE JOLTED Rob Townsend awake. He sat up in bed and listened. The sound seem to vibrate through the walls.

  Francine stirred. “What’s that?”

  “I’ll go see.” He got out of bed and slipped a navy silk robe over matching pajamas. “Go back to sleep.”

  A tap on the door caught his attention. He opened it to his agitated butler, Henry. “Sir, the Watsons are out front demanding to see you.”

  “Damn, what the hell do they want?”

  “I don’t know, but they have guns and seem very upset.”

  “Don’t worry, Henry, I’ll get rid of them,” Rob said, and took the stairs two at a time. Just as he opened the door, a blast of gunfire shook the windowpanes.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he exploded.

  “You’re on private property and I want you off now.”

  Pete Watson leveled a shotgun at him. “I’d be careful who I was giving orders to, son.”

  At the venom in his voice Rob took a step backward. The two men were astride horses, wore long dark coats and held shotguns.

  “Now you listen and listen good,” Pete shouted. “Stay away from C.J. And you’d better call off your hired killer because if anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you never draw another breath.”

  “My family had nothing to do—”

  “I’m not interested in your excuses,” Pete cut in. “Just heed my warning or you’ll regret it.” With that he kneed the horse and quickly rode down the drive, the clip-clop of hooves making an ominous sound.

  But Harry didn’t ride away. He glared at Rob with dark forbidding eyes. Rob took another step backward. Slowly and deliberately Harry spat tobacco juice on the pavement. Then in a threatening voice he said, “‘Violent endeavors have violent ends.’” His free hand went to the big knife in a holster around his waist, then he picked up the reins, nudged his horse and rode off.

  Rob gulped in a deep breath and stormed back into the house.

  “Should I call the sheriff?” Henry wanted to know.

  “I’ll handle this,” Rob said. “The sheriff is just as afraid of Harry Watson as the rest of the people in this town. I’ll make damn sure those two wild men don’t get away with this. Who do they think they’re dealing with?” He went directly to his study and slammed the door. Reaching for the receiver, he dialed Matthew Sloan.

  Matthew was sound asleep, dreams of C.J. filtering through his mind. She was running away from him, her long black hair flying behind her. As she turned to glance back at him, he saw tears in her eyes. No, he tried to tell her, It’s not true. But the words stuck in his throat.

  “Matthew, wake up.” His mother shook him.

  Through the remnants of sleep, his eyes focused on her. He wondered why she seemed worried.

  “You were having a bad dream or something. You were thrashing around and I couldn’t wake you.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He yawned and pushed himself into a sitting position.

  “There’s a call for you. Didn’t you hear the phone?”

  “No. I’ll take it in here.” As his mother left the room, he picked up the receiver.

  Before he could say a word, an angry voice came down the line. “Those crazy Watson men came over here with shotguns, threatening me and my family. I won’t have it. Do you hear me? If I have to call the Texas Rangers, I’ll get them locked up for the rest of their insane lives.”

  The voice was unmistakable. “I’m sorry, Rob. I’ll look into it.”

  “You’d better do more than look into it.” That warning note in his voice riled Matthew. “As our lawyer, it’s your job to protect us and our interests, so you’d better make sure they stay away from here.”

  “I’ll talk to them,” he replied with deceptive calm.

  “I thought you would, since you seem to be on such good terms with C. J. Doe.” The accusing words had Matthew biting his tongue. Patience, he told himself.

  He gripped the receiver. “As you know, someone tried to kill C.J. yesterday, and that’s enough to upset anyone. I’m sure after they cool off the Watsons won’t bother you again.”

  “They’d better not,” Rob growled, and the phone went dead.

  Matthew got out of bed and shrugged into a terry-cloth robe. Glancing at the phone, he hesitated. He had to call her, but he didn’t want to. Hearing her voice was going to play havoc with his senses. But what he had the hardest time facing was his cowardice of last night. He should have forced his mom to discuss her attitude toward C.J., should have asked the questions he knew he had to ask. God, he’d never had such a vulnerable feeling before. Slowly he dialed the number.

  C.J. picked up instantly. “Hello?”

  He took a deep breath. “C.J., I got a call from Rob Townsend. Seems Pete and Harry were over there with their shotguns, threatening them.”

  “I knew it.” She sighed irritably. “They promised they wouldn’t, and they broke their promise.”

  “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks, C.J. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He hung up the phone feeling like a bigger coward than ever, but he just couldn’t tell her he hadn’t even asked. He would do it, though, and soon. He couldn’t go on like this.

  C.J. HUNG UP, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned his mother. Surely he’d asked her. Why hadn’t he said something? The sound of horses trotting into the corral diverted her attention.

  She charged outside, anger in every line of her body. “You promised!” she yelled as they dismounted. “You promised you wouldn’t do this and yet you ride over there like the James brothers. This isn’t the Old West and you can’t do things like that. Don’t my wishes mean anything?” They both just gazed at her with woeful expressions. “I guess not. Maybe it’s time I moved on.”

  As she whirled around, Pete grabbed her arm. “Girl, try to understand. This was something we had to do.”

  Her eyes blazed. “But I asked you not to.”

  “Sometimes a man has to do what he feels is right.”

  “Don’t you care about the way I feel?”

  “Of course we care, but if anything happened to you…” He stopped and turned away, but not before she saw the glistening of tears in his eyes. Seconds later, his feelings under control, he looked back at her. “We only wanted to scare them.”

  “Well, you did that.”

  “Good,” Harry mumbled.

  She couldn’t stay mad at them. Inwardly she wanted to do the same thing, but knew she had to let the police handle it. Still, Pete and Harry had spent years protecting her, and that wasn’t going to change. “Why do I put up with the two of you?” she asked half-humorously, hugging Pete, then Harry.

  “No more talk about leaving,” Pete said.

  “No more talk about leaving,” she answered with a smile and walked between them to the house. As Pete’s spurs jingled and Harry’s shotgun brushed her leg, she felt as though she did indeed live in the Old West, protected by two men who would die for her. At that thought, she shivered uneasily.

  “SHE CAN’T BE.” Dale Weeks couldn’t believe his ears.

  “I fired enough bullets into that water to kill an elephant.”

  “I assure you she is still alive and so is Sloan.”

  “You didn’t tell me a man was going to be with her.”

  “I didn’t know, you damn fool.”

  “Next time get your facts straight. If I have to kill two people, the price goes up.�
��

  “You can’t even kill one, you idiot.”

  “Don’t worry. I never leave a job unfinished.”

  “She’s back at the ranch now, and you won’t get near her with those two old fools around.”

  “She can’t stay there forever, and when she leaves, I’ll be waiting.”

  “If you want the rest of your money, you’d better not botch it this time.”

  “She’s as good as dead.”

  “Just be careful. The police are on the alert. They’re looking for that truck.”

  “They’ll never find it. I covered my tracks.”

  “No more mistakes, Weeks.”

  “You just have the money ready, because I’ll be leaving the country when I finish this job.”

  “Call me when you do.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  AFTER HIS CONVERSATION with C.J., Matthew hurried downstairs, eager to talk to his mother. She was dressed, getting ready to go out. A visiting preacher was at the church, and she had agreed to act as hostess for the reverend. Damn, he wanted to talk to her!

  His chance didn’t come until Sunday night. By then he felt ready to explode. His mother had her feet up, resting, and Matthew knew this was his opportunity.

  He took a chair opposite the sofa. “Mom, I’d like to talk.”

  She glanced at him. “Sure, what about?”

  “C. J. Doe.”

  She sat up, a distressed expression on her face. “What about C. J. Doe?”

  “Why don’t you like her?”

  Her shoulders stiffened defensively. “I didn’t say I didn’t like her.”

  “You’re very hostile whenever I mention her name.”

  She shrugged it off. “That’s just your imagination.”

  “It’s not my imagination, Mom. Be honest with me.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I took her out on a date.”

  “A date?” Her eyes opened wide and she got to her feet. “If you need female companionship, there are lots of young women who’d be eager to go out with you. There’s Shelly—”