Only three words echoed in her mind. “Thank you, Mother.” It was merely her years of training in proper social etiquette that prevented her from screaming and running away. She hung onto those words, repeating them like a mantra in her brain. His grip was strong and he held the handshake beyond politeness. He felt it, too.
“How do you do,” she said steadily. She refused to let this brute rattle her and she was grateful for her experiences with Marshall and Charles. If she hadn’t had the preparation, she would never have survived.
“I’m doing just fine, honey. How about you?” His tone of voice was demeaning. His grin was wolfish, not like Marshall’s but in a Red Riding Hood sort of way. And like the wolf in the story, this man would consume her if she let him. She wanted to pull away, but she squared her shoulders and refused to be brought low by this piece of scum.
“I find your familiarity offensive, sir, and I would never be your ‘honey.” She spoke as if the word were distasteful on her tongue. “And I too will be fine once you release my hand.” She saw the grin falter. He quickly recovered and let her hand go. She had all she could do, not to wipe it off with the napkin Charles had removed from his lap.
“Charles,” she said again and nodded as she had before. She walked away with her head held high.
The hostess was still standing by her table, menu in hand, shifting from hip to hip in her impatience. Elizabeth took the proffered menu, her hands now shaking.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, meaning it. “I’d appreciate a glass of chardonnay. House will do and would you be so kind as to point out the Ladies’ room, please?”
The hostess must have recognized something in her face or in her shaking hands. She glanced back at Charles booth and then smiled consolingly. “It’ll be here waiting for you by the time you get back, honey.”
Elizabeth almost let loose with a burst of hysterical laughter. How could a word be so repulsive one minute and so comforting the next? “Thank you,” she said and meant that, too.
She only intended to touch up her makeup and wash her hands, but found herself scrubbing and scrubbing as if she couldn’t get them clean. How could she have felt any sexual stirrings for such a nauseating creature? She looked up into the mirror and saw the look of self-loathing on her face. Her stomach rebelled. She quickly found herself in the shameful position of knees on the floor and head in the bowl.
Her appetite was gone, but she would not let Charles’ bastard ‘associate’ see what he’d done to her composure. She returned to her table and drank half the glass of white wine down in one swallow, only after she was sure Charles and his companions weren’t looking.
The waitress came and took her order; soup and a small house salad. The larger steak and blue cheese salad she’d intended was too risky with her queasy stomach.
Opening her handbag, she pulled out her current romance novel, discreetly disguised in a brocade cover, and opened it to the place marked with a pale pink ribbon. It was what she usually did when dining alone, but this time, she did very little reading. She watched. She was very proud of herself for remembering to regularly turn the pages, although she left the narrow ribbon where it was. Red hot sex was coming and she wasn’t about to lose her place because of some damned pervert in a string tie.
What she hadn’t noticed before was that Creepy Eyes, as she dubbed him, had more than the two thugs sharing his booth in his posse. The booth behind him held four more.
They were all similarly dressed as the three with Charles, but even from this distance, she could see that the quality of the fabric and tailoring were inferior to the others. Were they uniforms or simply flattery to their boss’ taste? Creepy Eyes was definitely the boss. The four talked quietly, occasionally laughing at something one or the other said, but always watched Creepy Eyes with hooded eyes of their own.
Charles and Creepy Eyes were in the midst of a heated debate. Charles looked angry as he shook his head and slapped the table with his open palm. She heard the words “not on my agenda” from the brute and Charles say something about plans changing. The words made her flinch inside although she had no clue to their meaning.
Elizabeth saw the black clad wolf’s shoulders stiffen and the four men behind him stopped talking, immediately alert. Then Creepy Eyes visibly relaxed and laughed, loud enough for her to hear him even at this distance.
“It’s over, you win,” he said a little too heartily. “You go ahead and come up with another plan, but you better work fast. I’ve spent enough time and manpower on this project of yours and it’s time to see some results.”
The tension left the air and everything seemed to settle down. They talked for a few more minutes and Charles signaled for the check. After he paid, he rose from the table and the men shook hands. She kept her eyes on her book as he walked toward her and looked up when he stopped in front of her.
“I owe you an apology for that,” Charles said quietly. “One can’t always choose who to do business with. He’s not someone I would normally introduce to someone like you. I should have let you pass, but I was too happy to see you again. It was rude of me to run off like that the other night. I…”
“No apology necessary for the other night. I said some things I probably shouldn’t.” She smiled to let him know the apology went both ways.
“No. You saw things I should have seen a long time ago,” he said seriously and then he laughed a little bitterly. “It doesn’t mean that things will change between Marshall and me. Too much water under the bridge. For both of us.”
This wasn’t the place to argue that point, so she smiled and without thinking, held out her hand. “Good bye, Charles. I hope we meet again.”
He looked at her proffered hand and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I should.” He briefly touched her jacketed shoulder and even through the layers of cloth, she felt a slight tingle. “Lovely Elizabeth. You might have been the one to change me.” It sounded like real regret. “Best wishes to you and Rabbit Creek,” he said and then he smiled that roguish, lady killer smile. “But if you ever change your mind…” He blew her a kiss and wiggled his fingers goodbye.
She watched him walk away and a few minutes later glimpsed a flash of silver through the window as the Mercedes left the parking lot. Creepy Eyes saw it, too. He said something to his men, made a crude gesture to the exiting car and laughed. As if on cue, his men laughed with him. He snapped his fingers and the four men behind him rose, paused for a moment for instructions and left the restaurant. Creepy Eyes and his two remaining partners stayed.
Elizabeth wished he would leave also, but when she saw him signal the server and the woman returned with a round of drinks, she knew it was not to be. It was getting late and she’d already sat here too long. She didn’t like the idea of finding her way home in the dark. From here, the way to Rabbit Creek was pretty straight forward, but beyond that was a little tricky. She’d only driven it once in the daytime. In the dark, everything would look different and she’d already had one awful experience on those roads.
She tucked her book away and paid the bill that had been sitting in its black case for some time. The dinner hour was in full swing and she hoped she could slip out unnoticed. No such luck.
“Come sit with me, honey,” he laughed and the sound sent chills up her spine.
Creepy Eyes held out his hand to her, stopping the progress of the hostess and the middle aged couple she led. The hostess, with a sympathetic look for Elizabeth, walked right through it. It gave Elizabeth the chance to side step away from them all and keep moving toward the exit. She could hear his laughter behind her.
She was relieved to lock herself into the confines and comfort of her little red truck and she took a moment to calm herself and let the unnerving experience pass. Thank God she would never have to see that man again.
She started the engine and glanced in the rear view mirror as she put the truck in reverse. Behind her, in a shadowed corner of the parking lot, stood one of Creepy Ey
es’ men. He stood with one booted foot propped on the bumper of a dark SUV, smoking a cigarette. The glow from the tip reflected in his eyes and gave them a strange yellow glow. Those eyes followed her as she pulled from the lot. She shivered and was glad to leave them all behind.
She stopped for gas, not trusting the accuracy of the gauge that was closing in on empty and while she was at the pump, noticed the large supermarket across the street. She judged she’d have just enough time to make a quick stop and still get home before dark. The next time Marshall stopped by, she’d have meat of her own to cook for him.
She started making a mental list and buzzed through the store at lightning speed. She hadn’t counted on the number of other shoppers, however, and her time in line ate up more precious daylight than she’d planned. As she pushed her cart through the parking lot, she noticed an SUV, similar to the one she’d seen before, parked several aisles over. She paused nervously and then chided herself for being such a wimp. There were hundreds of those things on the road and she couldn’t panic and run every time she saw one.
She left the parking lot and turned onto the highway. There was enough traffic that it kept her mind off the afternoon’s events until she took the turn that would take her to Rabbit Creek. There was one car ahead of her and several far enough behind that she couldn’t recognize make or model. Nothing strange in that. People up here worked down below as they called it and had shopping to do just as she did. It was dusk and the cloudy skies added to the gloom. Her headlights came on.
The car in front of her turned off as did the one behind her. “You see,” she told herself, “People coming home just like you. Stop being such a baby.”
Her next turn came up and she couldn’t help it. She watched for headlights behind her. There were none. She breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at her watch. It was later than she thought and as always, the sun set early behind the trees. One minute it was daylight, the next it was dark. She rounded the next curve, keeping a close eye on the wet road.
She heard it before she saw it. Above the purr of her truck’s engine came the roar of another. There were no headlights behind her and yet suddenly a vehicle was there and the lights flashed on high, blinding her in the reflection from her rearview mirror.
Chapter 23
It was too close for her to see if it was another truck or the SUV she feared. But she knew. She knew.
She was thrown forward as the little truck was nudged from behind and she gripped the wheel, jerking it as she did. The truck swerved to the side and she righted it, her mind spinning along with the wheel.
She stepped on the gas and pulled a little ahead, but she knew the vehicle behind her had allowed it. It was bigger and more powerful than her baby truck and could run her over if it chose to. She had a moment to glimpse the big, black body before it’s lights went off again. It was the SUV. She was sure of it.
She hit a pothole disguised as a puddle. The little red truck bounced so hard it jarred her teeth. Her seatbelt dug painfully into her shoulder. Her groceries were scattered over the seat and across the floor. She used her left foot to kick some away from the brake pedal and thought incongruously about the dinner she had planned for Marshall. She prayed she lived through this night to cook it.
There were a few lanes branching off this road, but she had no idea where they led or how she would be greeted at the end of them. Surely no one would turn her away, but her surprise arrival could place them in danger. And what if no one lived at the end of the lane she chose? Some only led to farm fields, she knew, and she would end up with no way out. She couldn’t outrun those men on foot.
The vehicle behind her was speeding up. She could hear it in the sound of the engine. Again, the lights flashed, blinding her. She braced for the bump, but was no better prepared when it came. She fought for control as the truck swerved toward the trees, skidding on the wet gravel. She brought the truck back onto the road and let the steering wheel go long enough with her right hand to slap the mirror down. She wouldn’t be caught by the blinding light next time. And there would be a next time. She was sure of it.
She barely had time to grab the wheel before it came again. This time it was more than a bump and the little truck shot forward from the impact. Water spewed to either side as she careened through a low spot in the road.
A picture of boots flashed through her mind. They all wore those pointy toed western boots. The same kind that had left their marks on Max’s torn and bloodied body; the same marks that would have been made by Charles’ boots, the snakeskin ones that she’d so admired. Not on my agenda; the words that saved Max from a worse torment. Which one of them had said it?
“Please God, no!” she prayed and she was hit from behind again. They were going to do to her what they’d done to Max. She tried to remember what Max had said about the tactics they’d used until the poor girl had no choice but to stop for the fallen tree.
In her side view mirror, she saw the dark shadow slide to the left and pick up speed. They were going to crowd her off the road. She hit the gas, shot forward and moved to the center of the road. They hit her anyway; their right front bumper catching her left rear. She felt the truck fishtail with the impact, but the curve ahead saved her. She spun into it, never taking her foot from the gas, fishtailed again into another curve and kept moving, too terrorized to even check where the SUV was behind her. Her only chance was to make it to Rabbit Creek.
Water and gravel flew as she took the turns too fast. Once, she was sure two wheels left the roadbed and the truck wobbled dangerously when they reconnected. Amazingly, the truck stayed upright.
Twice more they hit her and twice more she evaded the worst of it. Their intentions were clear. They didn’t want to kill her. If they did, she would be dead by now. She didn’t know which was more frightening.
She wondered if they were enjoying her terror at their cat and mouse game and decided from what little she’d seen they probably were. They’d shown no sympathy for Max when they beat her senseless and she looked to be no more than a child. Her fear had added to their pleasure and they would have done more if someone else hadn’t stopped them.
“Marshall!” she screamed aloud. Where was the damned cop when you needed him?
Rabbit Creek was just ahead and she almost cried with relief until she remembered Mr. Begley’s words.
“No night life, I’m afraid,” he’d told her, “They roll up the sidewalks at 8 PM.”
He wasn’t kidding. The sidewalks were still there, but there was no one on them. The place was dark and deserted, dimly lit security lights the only evidence the buildings weren’t vacant and abandoned. She laid on the horn, hoping someone, anyone would notice. Its little beep-beep echoed in the stillness.
Surely someone would be at Town Hall. Harmony had answered before in the middle of the night. But Town Hall was as deserted as the rest of Main Street and she recalled someone saying that after six, Harmony transferred all calls to her home. She knew there were homes along the few side streets. Ruby lived on one of them and Maggie on another, but she wasn’t sure where and it would mean finding a place to turn around. She glanced behind her, weighing the options.
The SUV had disappeared.
Elizabeth kept up her speed, slowing just enough to insure her safety weaving upward and around the mountain. Maybe her pursuers didn’t realize that Rabbit Creek was a ghost town at night. Her mind had been so reeling with both panic and relief, she hadn’t noticed when they pulled off.
She was shaking uncontrollably and she started to cry.
“Stop it!” she said angrily. “It’s over. You won.”
Her words were similar to those spoken by Creepy Eyes to Charles, but by the gesture and vicious laughter that followed Charles’ leaving, she didn’t think Charles had won anything at all. Had she?
She decided it would be safest to head for Marshall’s. She needed to report this both to him as Chief of Police and as the Alpha. And, she admitted, she didn’t want to go home al
one to the empty cabin. She wanted Marshall’s arms around her. She wanted to feel his strength and hear him reassure her that everything would be all right.
She tried to remember the turning for his lane from the night of her car accident. Using the path was so easy. The Home Place at one end, Marshall’s at the other, but the road wasn’t straight and she wasn’t sure how far she had to go. She’d only come by the road that once and it was from the other direction.
She was concentrating so thoroughly on the side of the road, looking for something familiar that would tell her where she was, she almost missed the dark shadow looming up behind her. Again it was sound not sight that warned her.
“Marshall!” she screamed as the monster behind her struck again. She should have known they wouldn’t give up. When she first saw they were gone, she should have turned back into town, found the first house with lights on and asked for help.
But maybe that’s what they’d been waiting for her to do. Maybe she never would have made it to the front door. And then she remembered how they’d finally trapped Max. Surely there hadn’t been time for them to block the road. Unless, of course, they weren’t working alone.
“Marshall!” she cried again as she rounded another curve, weaving back and forth, doing what she could to throw them off their plan. In the flash of her headlights as she came through yet another curve, she caught a glimpse up ahead of a bright neon orange mailbox. It wasn’t Marshall’s, but one of the women had laughed about it, saying it had been hit so many times before, the paint only made it easier to aim at. But it sure made Goodman’s real easy to find. She was almost there.
The Alpha's Mate Page 17