"I don't like that diagnosis. I think someone put something in her drink."
"Go to hell; you can't prove that."
"You're right, I can't but then I don't need any proof to end your miserable life."
"Listen, I liked Charlotte. Why would I want to hurt her?"
"Because she put two and two together and you were scared shitless she'd spill the beans...go to the police."
"Spill the beans about what?"
"Where is Season?"
"Oh, no...I don't know nothin' about that. Your mom was always on my case, begging me to tell her if I had any involvement in her disappearance. I had nothing to do with it."
Rann pointed the gun at his arm and pulled the trigger. Boom!
His hand moved to cover the wound. "Shit, you shot me!"
"Bet it hurts, huh, Dick-him?"
"You're crazy, off your rocker. You think you can come down here to my playground and shoot me?"
"Just did, didn't I?"
"My goons will be all over your ass by sunrise."
"Maybe. Not in time to save you."
Even in the dark, Rann saw his face turn the color of beets. "What the hell do you want?"
"The truth about the girl." He pushed the gun barrel into his thigh. "What did you do to her?"
"All right, let me get my breath here." Still holding his arm, he glanced skyward. "Last time I saw her she was alive."
"Where?"
"I'm not giving you that. I'm a dead man if I tell you."
"You're a dead man if you don't."
"Let me go, man. My arm is killing me."
Rann shook his head. "The girl, where did you last see her and when?"
"I swear on my mother's grave, she's alive."
The gun discharged again and a dog barked from somewhere nearby.
Martin fell to his knees with a moan. "Sonofabitch." Laughter bubbled up from his belly, a grating, maniacal laugh that set Rann's teeth on edge. "Oh, this is sweet. Mama's boy kills a gangster over star-crossed love. That ought to be made into a movie." He lifted his chin and looked into Rann's eyes. "You'd kill a man for her...that gypsy slut?"
Rann placed the gun against his forehead and pulled the trigger. "Yes."
A thin line of smoke streamed from the barrel. A moment of disbelief crossed Martin's eyes before he slumped to the ground. Blood streamed from the wound, ran down the side of his face and onto the pavement.
Rann snorted and looked down at Martin's open eyes and gaping mouth. "Never was a mama's boy, just naïve about the evil man does."
A woman's voice from several stories up hollered out a window. "Hey, what's going on down there?"
"Nothing, ma'am. Sorry to disturb you, just taking out the trash."
Rann stuffed the Shield into the pocket of his sweatshirt and walked to his car. He unlocked the door, settled in behind the wheel and closed his eyes. She lives.
For now, that would have to do.
Chapter 26
The patient thief is as a tree whose root runs deep as he waits for the sweet fruit.
Three years later
Shoulder to shoulder at the back of the van, Madison and Vin took a final look inside. "You might want to crawl in there, make sure we packed all the right photos."
"Mag already checked them off on the list." She nudged him. "You sure she doesn't have a BA in Organizational Skills?"
"I hear ya," he said with a chuckle. "She's refolded Sprout's clothes three times this morning. I asked her if they're going into the suitcase sometime before I die."
"You're going to have to stop calling him Sprout soon or he'll have a complex when he grows up."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Madison closed the hatch on the van. "That's he's going to have a complex?"
"Nope, that he'll grow up."
She brushed her fingers down his cheek. "He'd never stand for not being a part of your life, or Mag's. I don't care how much he grows up."
"I know but you'll meet someone one day and―"
"Not going to happen." A face loomed behind her eyes. As always, she banished it, like she had all memories of him.
"We knew when you came to us it wouldn't be forever. All we want is for you to be happy."
"I'm getting here, Vin, one day at a time."
A commotion near the porch drew their gazes. "Ah, here's the love of my life and my little Sprout."
The boy ran to him. "Ready, Papa Vin!"
Vin bent down and tapped his nose. "Okey-dokey. Can you climb into your car seat next to Mama Mag so I can buckle you in?"
"Buckle Mama Mag too."
"All right, soon as I'm done with you." He brought the seatbelt around and waited for the click. Then he looked over at his wife. "Mama Mag, get ready to be groped."
"Oh, Vin, hush now. Pretty soon he's going to understand all your little innuendos."
"I got another year yet to make you blush."
Madison cleared her throat. "Let me know when you two lovebirds are done cooing so we can get on the road."
Vin laughed, walked around to the passenger side of the car and climbed into the front seat. After buckling up, he looked over at her. "You going to start the engine, Madison, or are we space shuttling today?"
"I'm scared."
"I see that. You're white-knuckling the steering wheel. Don't be scared, everything will be fine."
"What if someone recognizes me?"
From the backseat, Sprout mimicked the sound of a car roaring down the highway.
"We've been over this a thousand times. "You're Madison Ames now; photographer hors de série."
She released a sigh. "French always does me in."
"How would anyone recognize you? Even your voice has changed from having that tube down your throat for weeks. Your hair is red, not blonde, and you put those blue discs in your eyes."
"They're called colored lenses."
"Good. How about we focus them on the road to Mason City?"
Mag piped up from the rear. "Three hours and twenty minutes; two-hundred and sixteen miles to Sioux Falls. Let's stop there for lunch."
Madison and Vin exchanged glances. "BA in Organizational Skills," she said with an eye roll. "And don't try to talk me out of it."
The uneventful trip afforded her time to get her nerves under control. Vin had pushed her to start going to art exhibits and fairs. 'You can't keep hiding, people want to meet the face behind the photos.' The thought of traveling all the way to Mason City and stepping into a more public life terrified her.
So much had changed in the last three years. She returned to school, got her degree, welcomed her son into the world, and joined life again. Sprout had been blessed with the best surrogate grandparents in the universe. No one could compare, except for Duna. Not a day passed when she didn't think of him, miss him with every bone in her body. But like the haunting remembrances of him, she buried her loneliness for Duna.
She pictured him in the kitchen, putting up jam, making birdhouses, or in the yard feeding his ducklings, tending the flower beds. Those memories kept her strong, refuted the possibility that bulldozers had come in and leveled the land. A fantasy she knew. The rich and powerful always won in the end.
When she couldn't sleep, she told herself she didn't have a choice, they'd taken her free will away too. As long as she stayed away from her past, away from Duna, he'd be safe. That she could live with; it was the only thing that mattered now besides keeping Sprout as far away from those madmen as possible.
She still saw them--the madmen--in her dreams, Martin and his henchmen had taken the form of lions. Staked to a post, and struggling frantically with her bindings, a man stood in front of a row of cages. Martin. With hand in the air, he glanced over at her and glowered. She knew what came next. When he lowered his hand, the doors to the cages shot up, lions sprang forth; their large paws trampling the earth, their fangs gleaming like long, white spikes.
Faster and faster they came, their blood-curdling roars deafenin
g her. At last she broke free of her leather thongs. Run, Season, Run! She'd awake in a cold sweat, her heart fighting to escape her chest. It's only a dream, only a dream.
They stopped in Sioux Falls, had lunch and hit the road again. Three hours later, Madison pulled into the parking lot of the Mason City Public Library. Vin, Mag and Sprout stayed in the van while she checked in with a woman behind the desk. "Hi, do I check in here for the Art Exhibit?"
"Yes, and welcome. What category, Miss?"
"Wildlife."
The clerk looked down and scanned the list. "Ah, here you are. You'll be in Reading Room Four." She winked. "My favorite place to hunker down in an overstuffed chair with a good book." She pointed to a hallway. "At the end of that corridor, turn left. You'll see the sign posted outside the door."
"That's quite a list you have there."
Exuberance rolled off the woman. "So many different displays today, should be exciting. People come from miles for this event, often from other states. Our reading rooms are exceptional, perfect for any exhibit setting."
An entire colony of bees took a nosedive in her belly. People come from miles? Don't, don't go there. What are the odds?
She glanced at her watch, an hour to set up the easels and photos. She heard a rumble of wheels, looked up and waved. "Vin, over here!"
Huffing and puffing, he brought the cart to a halt. "Got everything out of the van and onto this monster."
"I feel bad, should have helped you unload."
He gave her a no-bother flap of his hand. "Exercise does me good."
"We have an hour to get everything set up." She waved him forward. "Follow me, we're headed for Reading Room Four."
Tagging along behind her, he kept on talking. "Mag spotted an ice cream store across the street. She's going to keep Sprout distracted while we set up."
"Did you remember to take the stroller out of the van?"
Vin smiled. "Sprout reminded me the moment he saw the black wheels peeking out from one of crates. I hauled it out and he climbed right in."
Vin set up the easels while she unpacked the crates. When she came across the image of the dog, she pulled it out, stared it for a long time, and then walked over to the table and chair set up in the room. She placed it behind the chair and leaned it against the wall.
"Not putting that one out?" Vin hollered from across the room.
"No, I don't know how he got into the van. He's not for sale."
"Huh. Mag must have stuck him in there at the last minute."
She returned to the open crates and, one by one, unloaded the framed photos and set them on the easels. She must have changed her mind six times about where to place them. Should the wolf-hybrid go next to the blue parrot or beside the black bear? In the end she decided on the bear.
Most of her photos were taken at the Spirit of Hills Wildlife Sanctuary in Spearfish, mere miles from Hecla. She fell in love with the animals and the Sanctuary's mission to provide a lifelong home for abused, neglected or abandoned creatures. Other photos came from the wide-open spaces on the ranch. She never knew what she might capture on an early morning trek, and her efforts had been well-rewarded.
When finished, she stood beside Vin and admired their handiwork. "Looks nice, doesn't it?"
"Fantastic." He glanced her way. "I'm so proud of you and of how far you've come."
"Couldn't have done it without you and Mag."
"Yeah, you could have, just would have taken you longer. How many do you think you'll sell today?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea how many people to expect. I'll be happy with three."
"I would be too at twelve hundred a pop."
"That's a ridiculous price for a photo, isn't it?"
"Not yours, you're Madison Ames, and quite well known."
"It's still ridiculous." An overwhelming sense of familiarity, potent and swift, washed over her. Her hand went to her forehead.
"Madison, are you all right? Madison?"
"Yeah, fine." She looked over her shoulder. "Give me a second."
"You're as white as bleached linen." He grabbed the chair near the table. "Sit."
She half-fell, half-slumped into it. "I don't know what came over me...nerves, I guess. I-I think we should leave."
"What's going on?"
The room closed in on her. She had to get out of there. "I don't know; can't explain it. "
Vin knelt before her, lifted her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "There are no lions in here."
Tears came fast. She looked off and swiped one from her cheek. Forcing a teensy smile, she turned to him again and pointed. "I see one, right over there."
Vin crooked his neck. "He's a beauty, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I caught him one day sunning himself at the Sanctuary."
"You okay now?"
She nodded. "Let's do this thing."
Soon, the room overflowed with people. In the first hour, Madison sold four photos. Flying high and feeling better, she scanned the crowd, curious about the numbers in the room. Not that people were lined up at the door but she wouldn't complain about the sure and steady flow of traffic. Most people looking to purchase wildlife art, knew what they were looking for and came prepared to part with the money to obtain it.
Her heart came to a complete stop. The floor shifted beneath her feet. It can't be! I'm imagining things. Don't turn around, please don't turn around and be him.
Time hung suspended while the man studied the photos. He stopped in front of the black bear for a heartbeat, and then moved on to the next. When he cranked his neck around and spotted her, her worst nightmare took on a new meaning. No…no…no. Holy crap! Holy crap! Act normal, Season. He doesn't know it's you, couldn't possibly know. Get a hold of yourself.
He perused another photo and looked at her again. This time, he'd narrowed his eyes, but didn't smile, didn't frown. Debilitating pain seized her. He hadn't changed, maybe a little leaner, a tad harder, but his face, those eyes, those lips. She couldn't look at him without falling apart. Where in hell had Vin gone?
He moved on to the next photo. If he turned to look at her again, she should smile, shouldn't she? Act as if he was like every other customer in the room? He wasn't. No one in the entire universe was like Rann Brogan. Not to her, and no one would ever be again. Flashbacks flooded her mind, coming so fast and hard, white lights exploded behind her eyelids. How she wanted to touch him, one last time. That one touch will last me a lifetime, I promise. Was she bargaining with God now?
She couldn't pull this off, even if she looked like Kermit the Frog now. He would know. It was like that between them. He could read her mind, knew her better than she knew herself. He'd gotten into her head, demolished every barrier she put in front of him, and never once took advantage of that. And he'd gotten into her soul, so deep, it had turned black and hollow like a rotted tree trunk.
Vin! Where are you!
A million questions snaked through her mind, questions she'd never have answers to. Did he look for her? Did he know his mother was involved? Did he know who pushed her off the cliff? Oh, God, even now she couldn't say his name out loud. But she could scream it in her mind. Martin! Martin! Martin! He ruined her life, tried to kill her, and Rann Brogan faded into his life of privilege again, did nothing to stop him!
An eerie calm settled over her. Never again, never again. She had become the consummate actor, an evolving chameleon, but not by choice. No one could make her cower after all she'd been through, no one had the power to chase her from a room. If he walked over to her, she would not flinch, would not cry. The tears had dried up, like her heart. With her last breath, she would do this.
Chapter 27
The droppings of the flying bird never fall twice on the same spot.
Drawn to the room that boasted wildlife photography, Rann had split from Matt and Bernadette, promising to catch up with them soon. The photos were stunning…and painful to look at it. The second he walked through the door, his body had reacted, as if to
warn him, 'This is gonna hurt, man.'
Why did he come in here? For that matter, what the hell was he doing in Mason City, Iowa? Oh, yeah, Matt and Bernadette had talked him into one last fling before their wedding. And then there was the bribe the architect in him couldn't turn away from, the Frank Lloyd Wright presentation in Reading Room Two. He was happy for Bernadette and Matt, truly he was, but every photo he looked at in this room brought back phantom memories of her. Some pictures more than others.
He stood before a picture of a mountain cat surrounded by birch and pine. Head low, shoulders up, his white fangs gleamed beneath a setting sun. His eyes moved to the lower left corner of the image where the photographer had signed her name…Madison Ames. He glanced to a table at the far end of the room and surmised the woman who stood beside it must be her. Thud. Thud. Thud. His hand drifted toward his heart. Jet-lag, no doubt, after his flight home from Costa Rica.
He moved on. Droplets of water pelted the black bear's fur as he walked from the stream. He could almost see the trout in his mouth struggling for release. An awesome shot if one loved bears. A flash of green and red caught his eye further down the line. He passed over the next two pictures and ambled toward the easel holding the picture of a Ruby-throated hummingbird. The tiny bird glittered like precious jewels under the rainbow.
A surreal sensation coursed through him, almost as if he'd been here before, seen this before. His neck swiveled toward the table again and blue eyes caught his. A fine bead of sweat broke out on his upper lip. What the hell was going on with his body?
A short crop of red hair framed her small face, perfect with her symmetrical features—small nose, full pink lips and high cheekbones. Black slacks and a white silk blouse adorned her lean body. The filmy, yellow scarf around her neck added a touch of class and tied the whole package together.
He still looked at women, but not for long. He couldn't do the meaningless one-night stands, had no desire to get involved with anyone…not since her, or ever again. For three years, he told himself she was alive. If he couldn't cling to that, he might as well toss himself off a bridge. He didn't know what Martin did to her, couldn't stand to think about it. For whatever evil act he'd committed, he had died. Guess people could call him a murderer now, but he'd never regretted killing that scum, not once.
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 190