Losing Ladd

by Dianne Venetta

  “Who are they?”

  “Robby and Billy Ladd.”

  Cal’s mouth fell open. “Albert’s boys?”

  “One and the same.”

  Tiny photo images mixed with a slew of memories and Cal pieced the information together in his mind. He recalled feeling like he’d seen the dark-haired men in beards before, an uncanny sense that he knew them from somewhere. Turns out he did. From twenty years ago. “Is she sure?”

  Malcolm grinned. “Seems to be.”

  “Well, I’ll be... Robby and Billy.” A thought struck. “Does Albert know?”

  “I doubt it. According to Lacy, the boys were estranged from their father. She said Jeremiah used to tell her stories about how Albert took a belt to them when they were kids and there was no love-loss between them. When she left town with Jeremiah, Robby took off while Billy ended up in jail.”

  “I think I remember hearing something along those lines.” But Cal had never been close with the Ladd brothers. He knew who they were to see them around school, but that had been the extent of it. “How did they hook back up with Jeremiah?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “That’s a piece of the puzzle yet to be solved. I’ve alerted the authorities to their identity and approximate whereabouts. They should have them picked up for questioning by sundown.”

  Relieved, Cal said, “That’s good to hear.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and get out of here,” Malcolm prodded. “You’ve got a daughter in town who I imagine is anxious to see you.”

  Cal smiled. “Thanks.” Collecting his personal items, he slid the aged letter back into its envelope and placed it in a slim leather portfolio. “If you need anything—”

  “I know where to find you,” Malcolm finished for him. Coming around behind the desk, he swapped places with Cal, asking, “By the way, have you seen Nick?”

  “Yes. He was here earlier.” Concern swamped his thoughts as he revealed, “He was looking for Jillian.”

  “Figured as much.” Malcolm’s solemn gaze mirrored the emotion coursing through Cal. “She’s not here.”

  “No?” Cal asked, wondering how Malcolm knew.

  He shook his head. “I saw her in a truck with Jack after I left the hospital.”

  Jack. Cal tightened his grip on his leather case. He hoped his brother wasn’t mixed up with Jillian other than for kicks. That Jack had nothing to do with the fire. His brother was in enough trouble as it was. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Enjoy the time with your daughter.”

  “Will do,” he said and walked out of the office. Right after a brief pit stop at his parent’s home. Nerves skirted through his chest. Cal planned to make one last appeal to his mother before she helped Jack steal the freedom of an innocent young man.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Felicity Wilkins?”

  She glanced up at a man standing in the open doorway of the waiting room. Dressed in a white coat, she presumed him to be a doctor. “Yes?”

  He approached with a solemn face. Electricity cracked through her veins. Had something happened to Travis? Pulse thumping, she darted a glance to the Parkers. Their eyes were glued to the man but neither said a word. Did they feel it too?

  The doctor folded his hands together before him, a small smile creeping onto his lips. “Your mother would like to see you.”

  Felicity gripped the wooden arms of her chair. “What?”

  “Your mother wants to see you.” His smile broadened. “She’s awake.”

  Felicity fired up from her seat. Was he kidding? She shot a glance to the Parkers. Was this a dream?

  The man stood waiting.

  “Where? Where is she?”

  With a hesitant glance toward the Parkers, he instructed, “Follow me.”

  Felicity followed him down the hallway, her legs a boneless mess of automated movement. Her mother was awake. She was asking for her. Felicity could hardly believe it. She stumbled into an elevator behind him, and they ascended to a floor crowded with staff and beds and machines. Trembling in the chilled air, Felicity covered her nose, warding off a horrible stench. The place smelled like a mix of cleaning sprays and vomit. One man coughed like the contents of his lungs were about to spew free. Pasting her gaze to the doctor’s white coat, she avoided eye contact with the patients as she passed their beds, the space open and completely lacking in privacy. I’m here to see my mother. I’m here to see my mother.

  “She’s here,” the doctor stated, pausing by the foot of a bed.

  Felicity slid a reluctant gaze toward the head. Butterflies swarmed her belly. Lying immobile, her mother was covered by thin white blankets, her light blue patient gown loosely tied around her chest and shoulders. Felicity couldn’t breathe. The doctor left, leaving Felicity to stare dumbly at her mother’s pale figure. Gone was her vibrant tan, replaced by chalky skin and a gauze-like head cover. There were no signs of her mother’s blonde waves. In a rush, Felicity realized they must have shaved it. She looked dead.

  Her mom’s eyes fluttered open and a small smile erupted onto her lips. Tears sprang to Felicity’s eyes. Mom.

  Heart beats pounded within her chest. “Mom,” she mouthed.

  Delaney’s smile remained intact, but she didn’t speak, only curled a finger to come closer.

  Felicity’s body responded before her mind could calculate what transpired. Her mom was awake. She was alive. She was communicating and conscious! “Mom,” Felicity uttered again, this time with more breath, powered by a flood of relief. It swept the angst clean, leaving only an open hopeful heart in its place. For a moment, Felicity felt lighter, freer. “Mom, you’re okay.”

  The reply was a bare nod of her head.

  Felicity reached for her mom’s hand, careful to avoid the tubes taped to her arm. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  Could she not talk? Was her voice gone? “How do you feel?”

  “Good.”

  Her voice was strained, coarse, but she could talk. Relieved, Felicity squeezed her mom’s hand. That’s all that mattered. Her mom knew she was here.

  “How are the horses?”

  The utterance struck like an iron pan. Felicity didn’t want to tell her. She didn’t want to divulge all that had happened—was still happening—because it might interfere with her mom’s recovery. Hadn’t the doctors said as much before?

  “They’re fine,” Felicity said quickly. “Everyone’s good,” she lied, thinking how Travis was on another floor, his chest split open as they tried to save his life, Troy’s arm was bandaged, a horse had been burned, another bruised in the stampede to escape.

  Her mother’s gaze crackled with questions.

  Felicity’s pulse tripped. Tears filled her lids. Could her mom sense the truth? That her horses had suffered? Did she know all was not well and that her daughter was lying? “Troy is with them,” she said, grappling for something to fill the balloon of doubt growing before her very eyes. “He’s been with them the whole time.” Felicity’s emotion burst open like a dam unleashed, and she clung to the slender hand within hers. Hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you.”

  A mix of joy and sadness mingled in her mother’s dark eyes but her smile faded. As if she knew...

  Without hearing the words, her mom could tell things were not good.

  “I’m going to call Nick,” Felicity said at once. “I’m going to let him know you’re awake.” Guilt washed over her as she brushed the tears away.

  He should have been here. He was the one who’d been sitting by her bedside this entire time. It wasn’t fair that he was gone the moment her mother came to, and she was here.

  Nick stalked Jeremiah as he hiked through the woods, a barely controlled rage streaming through his veins with each and every step. On his way down from the stables, Nick caught sight of Jeremiah entering the trails. Clouds had shrouded a setting sun, burying the landscape in hazy gray hues, but it didn’t prevent him fro
m spotting Jeremiah across the meadow. He’d been walking along the edge of forest that bordered the trails leading up to Zack’s Falls, darting into the woods at the trailhead. Jeremiah kept his head down, wearing a dark cowboy hat to conceal his identity, but Nick recognized the pop of color in his shirt. It stood out like a bright green lizard on a brown tree. Around these parts, Jeremiah Ladd was the only man with the audacity to wear bright lime green stripes that couldn’t be hidden, not against the dusky green tree line or beneath the black backpack he wore on his back.

  There was only one reason Jeremiah would be slinking around the property at sunset. He was here to cause trouble under the cover of darkness—trouble Nick was going to prevent.

  Tracking Jeremiah like a hunted prey, he maintained his distance while managing to keep him in sight. They moved through the older section of property, passed the original Ladd homestead, nothing but a mound of decaying lumber and a tumbledown of a chimney. Next they came upon the dilapidated stables, the structure Delaney used to house her horses before they built the new stables. Traversing with a purposeful stride, Jeremiah made his way up the hill and behind the main hotel. It was harder to see him now, the last of their filtered light all but gone, but Nick wasn’t about to lose him, closing the distance as the trees and foliage grew denser. Trails were narrow but navigable, a wall of mountain rising to his right.

  Jeremiah paused and Nick did likewise. Squatting on his hunches in what appeared to be a patch of clearing, Jeremiah removed his hat, tossing it aside, then slid the pack from his back. Unzipping it, he began removing items. Nick angled his body behind a tree, unable to make out the contents from here, but what troubled him more was the fact that they were within sight of the hotel. Down below, a screened porch was clearly visible. It ran the length of the hotel’s rear side, overlooking the creek that meandered between here and Ernie’s old cabin, now the History Hut. The faint trickle of stream could be heard, the occasional katydid winding up for the night’s performance. Not far beyond their current location lay the property line, providing Jeremiah the perfect location to do something sinister and disappear off site without being seen.

  Unless someone was watching him while he did it. Anger burned in Nick’s heart. He could kill Jeremiah with his bare hands. Right here, right now, he could twist the man’s neck and listen to it crack like a twig without a shred of remorse. As he watched and waited with nothing but the sound of his own breath, it became increasingly clear with each passing minute that Jeremiah was here with criminal intent. The only bright spot in the pursuit had been Felicity’s text. Mom is awake. There was no mention of Travis, only that Delaney was awake. Nick had responded, informing Felicity to hang in there, he’d get back as soon as he could.

  First, he needed to tie up loose ends here.

  Assembling something in his hands, Jeremiah glanced around the forest, scanning the area for signs of detection. Nick kept a low profile, concealing himself behind the wide tree trunk. He couldn’t have planned his attire better if he’d tried. Hunter green, his shirt provided excellent camouflage, especially at this hour of the day. Forty, maybe fifty feet away, he could see Jeremiah without revealing his position. Perfect for surveillance. Judging the scope of space between them, the narrow but relatively clear path, Nick figured he could close the distance in seconds.

  Jeremiah stood. Nick’s pulse bolted. He held his breath as he watched Jeremiah inch closer toward the hotel. Creeping toward him, Nick would have liked to snap a photo of what Jeremiah was doing as evidence but feared the flash would give him away. Wasn’t worth it. He’d grab the evidence when he grabbed the man. A flare of light snagged Nick’s attention and his heart caught. Jeremiah was lighting something! He wound his arm back and Nick charged.

  “Jeremiah!” he yelled.

  Whipping his head toward Nick, Jeremiah froze. Nick sprinted down the trail. Branches lashed at his face but he ignored them, drilling his focus into his target, the glow of flame within his hands. Jeremiah turned and chucked the bottle toward the hotel.

  The bottle smashed against a tree. Flame fell to the ground. Jeremiah took off, running straight. Nick took off after him, cursing as his boot snagged a root. He tripped. “Jeremiah!” Nick shouted, pushing up from the tangle of roots and rocks.

  Flames were crawling up and around the dead branches and leaves. Jeremiah was getting away. “You’re finished!” Nick yelled, lunging down the hillside, more a skid over mountain brush and debris than run. He couldn’t ignore a fire but he couldn’t let Jeremiah escape.

  Jeremiah stumbled, but regaining balance, hurled himself over a fallen tree, hitting the ground running. Nick’s cell phone rang. Delaney’s face flashed before him. Could it be trouble with her recovery? Word on Travis?

  Heart hammering the breath from his lungs, rage lit into him. Jeremiah was going to suffer for what he’d done. He was going to rue the day he ever returned.

  “Fire!”

  Somewhere in the background Nick heard the warning cry but he was fueled by vengeance. He drove forward, fighting branches, rocks and bushes. Several yards ahead of him, Jeremiah was held up by a massive clump of trees. Nick took a nosedive. Jeremiah tried to dodge him but making solid contact, their bodies hit the ground in motion, branches cracking beneath them as they tumbled. Jeremiah cried out as they hit a stump, the impact breaking their momentum. The blunt force nearly knocked the wind from him.

  “Fire!”

  Nick wrenched an arm around Jeremiah’s neck and raised a fist, burying it in his jaw. He shot Travis. His men robbed the hotel. He probably helped Jillian set the stables ablaze. Sinking another fist, Nick drove Jeremiah’s head into the ground as he struggled beneath him.

  Shouts pierced the forest like spears but he ignored them, wrapping his hands around Jeremiah’s neck. Nick could feel his pulse within the heat of his palms and knew he could squeeze it cold. Fury surged. Sweat trickled into Nick’s eyes. Hatred burned. With steely precision, he knew he could squeeze him dead. Building, swelling, the desire seemed to take over.

  “Help! There’s a fire!”

  A distant male voice. People shouting from the hotel. A reminder of time and place. Eyes locked in sync, they were two men, one vendetta. The edge belonged to Nick.

  “It’s burning up the tree!”

  In a roar of anger, Nick pushed up from Jeremiah’s body and yelled out, “Call the police!” Shrieks of response were scattered as Nick dialed into the situation. Through the dim light he saw bodies dash in and out of the screened porch. Several guests stood by the stone patio downstairs. There was a hose. They could use it to curb the flames. Nick slung his gaze uphill. Flames were growing. “Grab the hoses!”

  Instinctively Nick grabbed his phone and called Malcolm. His partner answered the first ring. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “There’s a fire. Behind the hotel. Get all staff on hoses,” Nick barked, urgency ramping his tone. “Call the police. I’ve got Jeremiah.” Ending the call, he drove his boot into a squirming Jeremiah. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Hell I’m not!” From out of nowhere, Jeremiah pulled a gun.

  Staring down the barrel, Nick jumped backward.

  A gunshot rang out.

  Screams sounded from the hotel.

  Jeremiah scrambled to his feet but Nick sprang for him. Another shot pierced the forest. Nick felt the metal barrel of a gun slam into the side of his head as they collided, plunging over a small cliff. Sailing over bushes, they crashed onto solid ground. The pain to his ribs was sharp. Mindlessly Nick struck at Jeremiah. Blow after blow, he connected wherever he could. Above them, guests shrieked in horror as they witnessed the conflict. Wrestling, branches jabbing, Nick managed to straddle Jeremiah. Pinning his hands, Nick searched for signs of his weapon.

  Anger twisted Jeremiah’s bloodied face as he writhed to break free. “Get off me!”

  “Not a chance.” Chest heaving, Nick stared down at him. The man was garbage. He had no respect for others, for life or
property. He’d taken a shot at him! Honing in on the pulsing vein in Jeremiah’s sweaty neck, Nick flipped his hold from hands to throat. Squeezing the last breath from his lungs would bring immense pleasure. Jeremiah seemed to understand the same. Fear scored his light brown eyes. He tried to tear Nick’s hands from his throat.

  He didn’t stand a chance. Nick’s grip was a steel clamp.

  “Nick!”

  Malcolm’s voice cut through the chaos. With unerring accuracy, it locked onto the vise-grip around Jeremiah’s neck. Riveted by the cold eyes of a killer, Nick lingered in his desire, the feel of Jeremiah’s bony throat in his hands. Seconds passed until both men understood the moment was gone. Nick wouldn’t kill Jeremiah in cold blood. He wasn’t that animal. Jeremiah’s lips twitched, then turned up in pleasure. Jeremiah was.

  Nick shoved Jeremiah’s head into the ground, nailing it against a rock then pushed up from him with a kick to the ribs. Jeremiah grabbed his side, crying out in pain. “It’s over,” Nick muttered. “It’s over.”

  Several male staff members were climbing the hill, aiming a hose high into the air. A few others manned fire extinguishers but none of it made a dent as flames fanned the brush, lighting the air to a smoky gold. The scent of burning wood conjured up images of Delaney and the stables, snapping Nick back into action. Hauling Jeremiah from the ground, he dragged him to the hotel and thrust him toward the stone patio. White beams were flung up tree trunks around him as people converged on scene with the flashlights. Drawing the gun from his waistband, Nick handed it to the nearest fellow and clipped, “Watch him.”

  The man didn’t hesitate, as though he inherently understood Jeremiah was responsible for the fire. Nick locked gazes with Malcolm. A glow of flame hung between them, casting solemn expressions in crystal clear clarity. Another fire. Another blow. Nick vowed it would be the last.

  Running up hill, he pointed toward the porch where several guests had gathered to watch. “Get those people out of there!” Distant sirens whistled through the cooling night air, chilling the hair on his neck. Please don’t let this reach the building.