The Right Woman

by Linda Warren

  He drove to the Dallas police station where they changed cars. Daniel drove and drove, getting on and off the freeway several times. On Daniel’s instructions, Sarah removed the uniform to reveal her regular clothes underneath as he drove up to a large motel. Chad went in to get a room.

  Sarah had seen the motel many times on her drive from Fort Worth into Dallas each day to work. But she’d never been here.

  “Are you okay back there?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes.”

  Daniel could see her through the rearview mirror. “It would be best to remove the cap, too. Don’t want you looking suspicious.”

  “Or ridiculous.” She shook her hair loose. “I just forgot about it.”

  Daniel smiled. At least she was maintaining a sense of humor. She was going to need it in the days ahead.

  Chad came back and they went into the room. It was a large suite, a bedroom and a sitting area with a microwave and a small refrigerator. Sarah went into the bedroom with her carryall.

  Daniel was talking to Chad, then Chad left.

  “Where’d he go?” Sarah asked.

  “Home to get some rest. I’ll stay during the night and he’ll stay during the day.”

  “Oh.”

  He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small gun. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he said, “Take it.”

  She stared at the gun, then at him. “I don’t know anything about guns.”

  “It’s just a precaution. If someone gets past Chad or me, you’ll need to defend yourself.”

  She’d occasionally moved Greg’s gun from the table, the counter, the bath vanity—places where he’d leave it in her way. But she’d never fired one and her blood ran cold at the thought.

  Tentatively she took the weapon and felt its weight in her hand.

  “It’s small and lightweight, but it will do the job.” He pointed to a spot on the gun. “Just release the safety and pull the trigger.”

  She swallowed her revulsion. “Okay.”

  “Put it on your nightstand, then we need to go over some things.”

  She walked into the bedroom and carefully laid the gun down, hoping with everything in her that she would never have to use it. She then joined Daniel on the sofa.

  “Now that you’re here, you won’t leave until this is over,” he told her.

  “I know.”

  “Never open the door to anyone. You shouldn’t have to since Chad or myself will always be with you. No one knows about this location but the three of us.”

  “And you trust Chad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, I’ll trust him, too.”

  “Good. Why don’t you take a shower and try to get some rest?”

  Daniel watched her go into the bedroom. He shrugged out of his jacket, rolled up his white shirt-sleeves and leaned back to rest his head on the sofa as this awful day played through his mind. It had started out with plans of flying to France to get away…from Sarah. He could admit that now. For years he’d been hoping for a break in her demeanor, something to show that she’d forgiven him for Greg’s death. That’s what he needed from her—forgiveness. While he’d been waiting he’d slowly and reverently given her his heart. And she didn’t want it.

  He glanced around the room. This was like a page in his fantasy book—he was in a motel with Sarah Welch. But he never wanted it to be like this. Once again he found himself being her protector, and when it was over they’d go their separate ways, to separate lives. This time, though, he wouldn’t fail her—there’d be no bloodshed unless it was his own. That was a vow he made to himself.

  He reached for his cell phone and called Lieutenant Tolin to see if he’d arranged a meeting with Boyd tomorrow in Livingston, where death row inmates were housed, then he checked on Drew. There was no answer. He and Claude must be out, he thought. They went a lot of places. He didn’t try Drew’s cell phone because he didn’t want to interrupt his evening.

  Sarah came out of the bedroom wearing a big T-shirt and all thought left him. She curled up on the end of the sofa with her feet beneath her. She smelled faintly of lilacs and her skin glowed. An old familiar need kicked to life in his lower abdomen, a need that he’d been suppressing for too long.

  “Are you going to sleep here on the sofa?” she asked.

  “What?” Her question went right through his mind.

  She patted the sofa. “Are you sleeping here?”

  “I probably won’t do much sleeping, but it folds out into a bed if I need it.”

  “I won’t sleep, either,” she said in a low voice, smoothing the T-shirt over her thigh.

  He grabbed the small cooler he’d brought in. “How about something to eat? I had Chad pick up some stuff. I’m not sure what’s in here.”

  He peered inside. “Soft drinks, distilled water, pretzels, candy bars, beef jerky and a couple of honey buns. Good God, the man’s diet is atrocious.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry.”

  He opened the pretzels as if she hadn’t spoken and held the bag out to her. She took one and munched on it.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sure,” he answered, taking a pretzel.

  “When I got the note, I called you without even thinking. I did it automatically because I knew you’d know what to do and you’d find out who had written it. I realize that’s incongruous with what I told you the other night. You must think I have a lot of nerve calling you after the things I’ve said to you.”

  “No, not really. I was becoming too concerned about you and I had no right to be. When an officer does that, it’s time to back off. That’s why I decided to quit my job.”

  Her eyes found his. “But you didn’t.”

  “I tried, but my lieutenant wouldn’t let me walk away from this investigation.”

  “I’m glad. I don’t think I could have dealt with Russ without your help.”

  Her words warmed him through and through. “Thank you.”

  She studied the hem of her T-shirt. “I need to tell you why I feel about you the way that I do.”

  “You don’t have to.” He didn’t want to hear it, not now, not ever.

  He busied himself getting bottled water.

  “Please listen.”

  At the plea in her voice, he settled back on the sofa, staring at the pretzel and water bottle in his hands. “Okay, but if it’s about Greg’s death, I think we’ve covered all that.”

  “No we haven’t. I blamed you for so long because someone wasn’t there to help him, but you can’t help someone who’s lying to you. And Greg and I lied to you. It’s taken me a while to admit that. I should never have been with Greg during that assignment and he shouldn’t have allowed me to go. It was like this adventure we were going on together—it was exciting, delving into the unknown. But it turned into a nightmare that continues to haunt me.”

  He didn’t know what to say so he said nothing.

  “It was easier to blame you than to take the blame myself. Lately I’ve been trying to analyze my feelings, to get through the bad stuff instead of suppressing it. Serena and I talked about it over the weekend and I’d like to tell you what I told her.”

  “Okay,” he said, hardly breathing.

  “That day I passed out in Boyd’s apartment, I came to with your head on my breasts. My robe was open and I wanted to pull it together, but I couldn’t move my arms. I didn’t know who you were—all I knew was that you were a policeman and I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want you to think of me in that way, either.”

  “What way?”

  She swallowed. “Like a slut.”

  He gasped at the shock of her words.

  “Every time I saw you, even during the trial and the appeal, and you looked at me with those concerned eyes, I felt as if I was on that floor, naked, exposed and vulnerable. I hated it. Since then I’ve covered my body as much as I could.”

  “Sarah…” He placed the pretzels and bottle on the coffee tab
le.

  She held up a hand. “It’s not your fault I felt that way. You weren’t the reason I was on that floor—I was. I’m to blame for everything that’s happened in my life.”

  “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He rubbed his hands together. “And don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re not to blame for anything that went wrong with the investigation. And for the record, the only way I’ve ever seen you is as the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, feeling almost vindicated by his words.

  He glanced at her. “You’ve changed your appearance. Does that mean you’re feeling better about yourself?”

  “Yes. That night at the hospital when you said I hadn’t dealt with what had happened to me, it made me angry. Then Brooke asked me if she would ever lose the bad feelings she was experiencing. I should have been able to say yes without a pause, but I couldn’t. I realized then that you were right and I had to do something. I decided I wasn’t going to be a victim anymore.”

  His eyes held hers. “Your strength continues to amaze me. I noticed that from the start. Most women would be falling apart right about now.”

  The pretzel she’d been playing with crumbled in her hand and she brushed its remnants onto the coffee table. “I—I want to, but I have all these people who love me. I realized that for the first time tonight and that love empowers me. When I was small, it was just Celia and me and we moved a lot. It was difficult to make friends so I hardened myself to deal with the disappointments and the loneliness. I never let anyone get too close to me.”

  She paused and Daniel let her talk. It was obvious she needed to do that, to avoid thinking about what had happened.

  “We didn’t have a lot of money, but I was determined to get an education. I went to college during the day and worked as a waitress at night. Working my way through college took me longer than most people to get my degree. I met Greg at the restaurant where I worked and it was love at first sight. With Greg I was able to open up and to let myself love and it was wonderful. But…but…when Boyd touched me, all that ended. I couldn’t feel anymore. I was frozen inside. Once again I hardened myself against the harsh realities of life. I hated it when a man would look at me and if one accidentally touched me I felt as if I was coming apart at the seams. I’m a counselor and I know how unhealthy that is, but I was powerless to change it—until this weekend. And now…”

  “Sarah…”

  “I took a tiny step forward, but I’m spiraling back to where I was. I’m trying to fight it, but I don’t want to. It’s easier to be Colder Than Ice.”

  Daniel inhaled a hard breath. “You know what they call you?”

  “Yes, and it’s true. I wanted it that way. I didn’t want any of the officers to look at me as a desirable woman. I couldn’t handle it. The thought of being touched in that way is repulsive to me.”

  He moved closer, wanting to hold her, but he was careful not to touch her.

  She ran her hands up her arms. “I’m not going back into that deep freeze of emotions. I will not do that to myself or my family.”

  He could see she was fighting the destructive feelings with everything in her and he admired her resilience and spirit. She was a remarkable woman. “Think about Serena and Jassy,” he suggested.

  “Yeah.” She rested her head against the sofa, her eyes closing. “Jassy gave me your kiss, but I knew it was for Serena.”

  In my dreams it’s always for you. He wanted to say the words, but she was drifting off to sleep and he let her. It was where she needed to be, away from the nightmare.

  He sat for a long time just watching her sleep, enchanted with the freckles sprinkled across her nose. He’d never dreamed she was so starved for love. Maybe that’s what pulled him toward her—that need for love, a feeling he knew very well. Growing up in a wealthy family, he’d never had that feeling of being loved. He and Drew had spent their youth in private schools away from home. In the summers, they’d attended summer camps. The holidays were the worst. They were in the Caribbean, France or wherever their parents planned to be with friends. Christmases were never at home. Daniel didn’t know what it was like to be a part of a big, loving family. Sarah didn’t, either.

  He knew that kind of pain—that’s why he was so protective of Drew. He wanted Drew to know he had a brother who cared. The good thing that had come out of Drew’s drug addiction was that it had pulled them together as a family, for a short amount of time. Muriel, their mother, had tried to take care of Drew, but soon the nurses, therapists and caretakers were brought in and Muriel was off with Dan, their father, on his many business trips.

  Daniel thought that Sarah would sleep better in the bed and he was unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to wake her up and he didn’t know how she’d react if he touched her. Finally he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. She nestled against him and he held her longer than he probably should have. He laid her gently on the bed and pulled the sheet and blanket over her, resisting the urge to kiss her.

  She stirred. “Daniel,” she whispered.

  “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.” I’ll never leave you. He meant it.

  He returned to the other room, removed his shoulder holster and gun and placed them on the coffee table, within easy reach. Sitting, he took off his shoes and stretched out on the sofa.

  He was tired. Every part of him was drained and exhausted, but Daniel knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight, wouldn’t fully rest until the bastard threatening Sarah was caught. He turned onto his side and stared at the door and window. There was only one way in and one way out. That was good. It made guarding Sarah that much easier.

  Tomorrow he’d see Boyd and hopefully find a connection that would solve this case. He had to solve it and soon. For Sarah.

  AT FIVE-THIRTY in the morning, he got up and put his shoes and gun back on, then checked on Sarah. She was still sleeping so he didn’t wake her. He had a honey bun and water for breakfast. He wouldn’t have time to eat later.

  A little before six there was a tap on the door. “It’s Chad,” he heard and quickly opened the door.

  Chad came in with a bag. “I brought breakfast tacos and some other stuff.”

  “I hope it’s something she likes.”

  Chad shrugged. “I don’t know what women like.”

  “Fruit and green stuff I think.”

  Chad smiled. “I got apples and bananas.”

  Daniel slipped into his jacket. “Good. Is there anything I have to go over with you?”

  “No, sir,” Chad replied. “I won’t let anyone in the room under any circumstances, not even if the building’s on fire.”

  Daniel nodded. “Just let her sleep. It’s what she needs.”

  “I’ll guard her with my life, Daniel, and I appreciate you giving me this opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

  “I’ll check in several times during the day, but if anything suspicious happens, call me immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Daniel left and called Russ. “Do you have anything?”

  “I leaned heavy on Brian Colley and he finally admitted there was an older guy at the party selling heroin. He said he’d seen him at other parties, but doesn’t know his name.”

  “That’s crap.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I have his ass down at the station. I’m leaning on him until I get a name or Mr. Colley will be spending some time in jail.”

  “He’ll crack eventually,” Daniel said. “I’m on my way to the airfield. Lieutenant Tolin has arranged for a helicopter to take me to the prison. I’ll call when I get back.”

  An hour later he crawled out of the helicopter at the Terrell Unit at Livingston. He noticed heavily armed guards in the towers, guards at the entrance and guards on horseback trailed by bloodhounds. The place had an eerie quiet that Daniel tried to shake off as a guard walked up to him and escorted him to the warden. He shook hands with Ted Reson and took in the drab, stark office.


  “What can you tell me about Rudy Boyd?” Daniel asked, taking a seat in a vinyl chair.

  Ted placed a large folder in front of him. “That’s filled with complaints filed by his lawyer.”

  Daniel flipped through the letters. There were complaints about his cell, his uniform, the roaches, the food, the water and the list went on.

  “Evidently, Boyd thought this was going to be a four-star hotel.”

  “His gall is unbelievable.” Daniel shook his head.

  “Somehow Mr. Boyd feels he’s going to be set free. He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, as is his attorney, Arnie Bishop.”

  “How often does he see Bishop?” Daniel was well-acquainted with Arnie. He was a crooked defense attorney—willing to do anything for money.

  “He comes quite often. He was here on Saturday.”

  “Does Boyd see anyone else?”

  “No.”

  Daniel stood. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Boyd.”

  “The guard will take you, but you have to leave your gun here.”

  Daniel removed his holster and laid it on the desk.

  “Good luck,” the warden said as Daniel followed the guard.

  They went down long corridors with hollow, echoing sounds. Turning a corner, they walked down a short hall. The guard stopped at a door and spoke into his two-way radio. The door opened electronically.

  “They’ll bring him through the other door,” the guard said. “I’ll let you out when you’re through.”

  “Thanks,” Daniel said, taking a seat in one of the two metal chairs at a metal table, the only three items in the room. Everything here was steel, solid and secure, housing the dregs of society. Boyd was the lowest. He’d shot Greg in cold blood because he was a police officer. He would have eventually killed Sarah when he was through with her. The man didn’t have a conscience or a heart.

  Daniel braced himself for a meeting with the devil.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE DOOR CLANGED open and a guard ushered Rudy Boyd into the room. He wore prison white and his arms and feet were shackled, but basically he was the same—same black hair, cold dark eyes and a mocking leer as if he knew something the rest of the world didn’t. He hobbled to the empty metal chair and flopped down.