The Burdetts had been found. After fleeing town to get away from Charley Morse, Mr. Burdett had suffered heart pains, and so had checked himself into a hospital in a nearby town under another name. He was feeling much better.
Her headache got worse. She turned into the long drive to the farm, distracted by her thoughts. Out of the comer of her eye, she caught a flash of shiny black through the trees near the barn. She quietly slowed the Miata and looked.
In the distance, at the side of the bam, she saw that two long black limos had pulled up out of sight of the road. Only the glint of sun off the shiny metal of the cars had caught her attention. Her pulse quickened. It was not a day for children’s lessons. Who was at the barn? Her every instinct shouted danger.
She veered the Miata off the drive, and left it half hidden by undergrowth at the side of the driveway. She ran quickly through the trees toward the bam, skirting around to the far side where her arrival wouldn’t be expected. She thought of the Burdetts. She thought of the vandalized Harris farmhouse. If something suspicious was happening here at Maggie’s farm, she had every intention of stopping it, no matter what.
Rockford couldn’t get rid of the anxiety he felt, burning like acid in the pit of his stomach. He ferociously pushed the gas pedal of the car to the floor, making the car lurch ahead.
“Warp speed isn’t going to help,” said Georgina from the seat beside him. “Better to get there in one piece.”
He growled, but he slowed down. Georgina sat silently. They were heading out to the farm, where he was fervently hoping they would find Willow. His last thirty-six hours had been a nightmare, his suspicions about Marco confirmed, his father’s stroke, his arrest for Porter’s death, and the drama of the past few hours that he had spent with Georgina, finding out some unwelcome truths about his family. No sleep, a greasy fast-food meal, and a very real fear for Willow’s safety had him on the edge.
She had spent a lot of time at the police station, he knew, and had learned about many of the facts that had been unraveled. But she didn’t know it all. She had taken off for points unknown before Georgina had arrived to add the missing pieces of the puzzle, and she had no idea of what had happened since. He could only hope that she had headed home.
Marco Slergetti was a dangerous, cruel man, who would now be absolutely desperate and capable of destroying any obstacle that got in the way of his goals. And that included Willow.
Willow Blake. Did she have any idea how much she meant to him? Did she have any idea how much she frustrated him? He loved her with every cell in his body. He felt that she loved him, too. But Willow didn’t trust love. Willow didn’t really trust anybody. He thought of her. . . exciting, passionate, alive. Now that he had discovered the power of love, he ached to have her in his life. But could she ever love him totally? He had strong doubts, and that brought sadness rolling over him like storm clouds in a strong wind.
He couldn’t make her trust him. But he would do anything in his power to keep her safe. First he had to find her. And then he had to stop Marco Slergetti. He had been responsible for setting him loose. He would be responsible for putting him behind bars. Visions of Peter and his blood-soaked tie viciously danced across his mind. Not Willow. He would not let anything happen to Willow.
His mind relived the recent scene at his law office—the police, the questions, his uncle. Georgina had come rushing into town with the information that their father had finally been able to give. He had discovered that his brother William had mob connections, and had been on Marco Slergetti’s payroll. While Rockford’s father, like Rockford himself, had taken and defended cases for people whose names had been linked to organized crime, it had been without any mob-type affiliations, hired to give the best defense possible as is promised in the judicial system, and making enormous fees.
But Rockford’s father had discovered his brother’s close relationship with Marco Slergetti, realizing that he and his son had been used as pawns, and that Peter’s life had been lost in the process. The stress from his discovery had resulted in his stroke. Georgina’s news had steered the local police toward William Harrison, who was now in custody, currently confessing everything to the police in the hopes of leniency for himself. But that, of course, left Marco exposed and desperate. He had little or no time to locate whatever he had already risked so much to find in Ryerstown before the police net closed.
Rockford looked across the car at Georgina. Her face was taut and worried, but determined. Her silence spoke volumes. She knew the danger.
They pulled into the farm driveway, stones skidding. His breath caught in his throat a few seconds later. He saw Willow’s Miata pulled off the drive, abandoned in the trees. Where was she? His heart was pounding.
“Oh, no,” whispered Georgina, and he followed her gaze. There, through the trees, he saw the two black limos beside the barn. His nightmare was coming true.
In a split second, George had dialed 911. “Tell Detective Dunn that Marco’s at Higher Horizons Farm. Come quick.”
“I’ve got to go help her,” Rockford said in a low voice, “I can’t wait for help.” He halted the car and climbed out in one fast motion.
“I’m with you, big brother. Let’s go.” He turned to argue with her, to tell her to run to safety, but one look at her face showed him the futility of arguing.
“Thanks,” he said softly, fear for Willow flowing with each pulse beat. They took off through the trees, in a run.
When Willow snuck up to the back of the barn, she found that only the bottom half of the back barn door was shut. She could hear Maggie’s voice in the barn, strong and argumentative. She could also hear two low male voices, challenging and threatening. She silently opened the bottom of the door and slipped inside. The Burdetts’ cow mooed softly when she saw her, but no one seemed to notice. She picked up a pitchfork that hung neatly on the side of the stall.
“You can coax and yell all you want, Mr. Big Stuff,” stated Maggie firmly in her gravelly voice. “You aren’t getting my farm while I have a breath in my body. Now get out of here.”
The next voice that spoke was low and dripping with venom.
“Not a problem, horse lady. It makes no difference to me whether you have breath in your body or not. I don’t have time for any more bungled farm purchases. I’m going to search this farm, and I don’t have any time to waste with people getting in my way. Perhaps my associate can help convince you.”
There was the sound of a scuffle, and Willow heard Maggie cry out. She stepped around the wall, into view of the interior of the main barn. A man dressed in black sat on a barrel, twirling a gun, smiling cruelly. Maggie was across the room, held tightly by a bigger man, stocky and tough looking. He held a gun to her head. They did not even suspect that anyone else had entered the barn.
Willow listened, assessing what to do.
“This is the last farm on this stupid road, so it has to be here. And I’m not leaving until I find it. Ice her, Paulo, then come to the house to help me check under these floors.” He turned to leave the barn.
“You’re a pathetic bully, Mr. Slergetti. No wonder you’re such a failure. You sure don’t impress me!” Maggie’s voice was strong and proud.
Marco’s face closed, his eyes almost slits. “No one talks to Marco Slergetti that way!”
Watch it, Maggie, Willow thought. You’re dealing with a viper here!
“Get rid of her now,” he growled to Paulo.
Panicking, Willow looked around the barn, searching for some way to change the odds of what was happening. But except for the animals, the barn was empty, and even the tools were carefully put away for the children’s safety. Even the loft overhead was bare, accessible only by the long slanted ladder than leaned against its edge. Her heart was hammering.
It was the pitchfork against two guns. Willow didn’t like the odds, but time was running out.
Feeling like she was playing a role in a bad western, she took five fast steps into the open area of the barn, ending
right behind Marco Slergetti. She nudged him in the back with the pitchfork, and he stopped cold.
“Hold on there, Marco. Tell him to let the lady go.”
He spun and faced her. She held the pitchfork steady, now aimed right at his stomach. He dropped his gun. His cohort froze.
But then, Marco’s look of shock slowly changed to a sadistic grin. She had the sudden image of a lizard slithering out from under a rock, spying its prey.
“Why if it isn’t the blond bombshell realtor. And you know my name. You keep showing up where you’re not wanted. I told Charley to put you away a long time ago. Unfortunately, he must have had a penchant for leggy blonds. But not anymore. People who disobey my orders do not have any more penchants, if you get my drift. And I don’t have any particular penchant for blonds.”
“I’m hoping you have a penchant for the state pen, Mr. Slergetti. They will catch you, and you won’t get off this time.”
“Certainly I will. I will have the excellent services of my dear Mr. Rockford Harrison, just as before. I’ve heard you two were an item, so you must know how it is. Mr. Rockford is my confidant. . . my knight in shining armor.”
Willow gave a sarcastic laugh. “Forget it, Marco,” she said without a second’s hesitation, looking into the mobster’s evil eyes. “Rockford would sooner chew glass than be in cahoots with you again. You may have tricked him once, but not again. He has far too many principles for that.” And as she spoke the words, she knew they were true.
“Oh well.” He sighed melodramatically, turning away. “Paulo, shoot the horse woman . . . then this big-mouthed one, now.”
The stocky man, still holding Maggie, raised his gun again.
“Stop!” yelled Willow, in a panic, brandishing the pitchfork. “Tell him to drop the gun, or I’ll pin your hide to the wall of this barn.” She pushed the pitchfork toward him, but he just laughed, not moving. But Paulo had frozen, curiously watching the young woman who stood up to Marco Slergetti.
Marco tapped his chest. “Bulletproof vest,” he bragged. “Courtesy of one of New York City’s not-so-finest. So poke away.”
It was her against two slime, one bulletproof vest and one gun, and Willow didn’t feel optimistic, pulling back the pitchfork to aim for his leg.
But out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement in the back of the barn.
It was Rockford. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Silently, in the sign language she had taught him, he signaled.
“Talk,” he said with his hands. So she talked. And no-nchalantly made the sign herself for Maggie’s benefit.
“You know the cops are closing in on you. What is so important to keep you here? Just what are you looking for?”
“It’s money. My money. And I’m not going to disappear without it. It’s got to be here, this is the last farm on the road.”
She saw Rockford motion again. “Talk.” Then, “Look up.”
“You want me to believe you have money hidden at one of these farms? And you don’t even know which one? How stupid is that?”
He bristled.
“It was hidden . . . supposedly under the floorboards in a farmhouse. Unfortunately, the employee responsible can no longer be questioned as to it’s location . . . unless you believe you can communicate with spirits from another world.” He gave a nasty laugh.
“Well, it looks like you’ve bungled things again, Marco,” drawled Maggie, without a trace of fear in her voice. “There’s nothing hidden here on my farm, no matter what your flunkies have led you to believe.”
“Shut up, horse woman. No one asked you.”
But it was evident that her words had disturbed him. He was desperate.
Willow let her glance wander. Behind him, she could see that Rockford had positioned himself, ready for action. He was holding a heavy metal lid from a feed bin in front of him. Across the room, she could see that Maggie was tensed and ready. And then she looked up, and her heart caught in her throat.
High above their heads, a small, lithe figure had emerged from the shadows of the loft. It was Georgina. She stepped onto the long leaning ladder that led to the ground floor without making a sound. Like a graceful ballerina, she began to travel down it’s slanted length, right behind Marco. A coil of rope was hanging around her neck.
Willow felt the sweat break out all over her body. Georgina was in plain sight of Paulo, if he moved his head at all to look up. And he had a gun. She swallowed hard.
But Maggie had seen her, and had assessed the problem. She began to squirm to escape his hold, instantly getting both Paulo’s and Marco’s attention.
“I told you to plug her, you idiot,” Marco barked in frustration. He began to move toward her, then stopped as Willow thrust the pitchfork at his leg. He screamed.
The ruckus gave them the time they needed.
At that moment, Rockford had leapt from the shadows of the barn with a warrior’s yell, his makeshift shield held high, as he charged Paulo and his gun. The gun exploded, and was deflected off the feed lid with a mighty ping. Maggie wrested herself free, as Rockford plowed into the stocky man with his metal shield. Paulo dropped like a stone as the heavy metal collided with his forehead, and Maggie grabbed his gun with a victorious laugh.
At the same time, Georgina was halfway down the ladder. She leapt through the air coming down on Marco’s shoulders, as he fought off Willow and the pitchfork. He fell to the ground, groping for his dropped gun. Willow picked it up and held it on him, while Georgina deftly tied his hands behind his back. The sound of police sirens could be heard in the background.
When Detective Dunn stormed the barn with his men, he found the two culprits sitting on a bale of hay, Marco with hands tied securely behind his back, and Paulo holding his aching head.
Rockford stood with his arms around both Willow and Georgina as the police escorted the criminals to the police cars.
“I don’t know how, but you did it,” Dunn shook his head in wonder. “The world will sleep a little more securely with Marco Slergetti locked up in jail. . . as long as we can keep him there.”
Rockford Harrison’s voice echoed into the barn, low and strong. “Don’t worry. This time, I’ll make sure he stays there just as long as he deserves. It’s the principle of the thing.”
Chapter Twenty-six
It was several hours later when Rockford and Willow returned home to her cottage. To Willow, it felt like years since they had been here before . . . while waves of doubt and anger and confusion had filled the air. But now, many of the questions had been answered. Marco was in a jail cell, the Burdetts were safe and on their way home, Rock-ford’s father was recuperating. But the major question remained, hanging heavily in her heart. What about the fledgling love that she and Rockford had shared? Had they extinguished the flame with their doubts and lack of trust?
She no longer had a single doubt about the depth of her love for him. And she would remember forever the feeling she had when she first saw him in the barn. She had met his eyes and she had known that she was not alone anymore. She had trusted that he would be able help her, that together they would find their way through the storm. But would it matter to him, that she had finally discovered trust?
The little cottage offered peace when they opened the door. Peace, along with the instant assault of tiny furry and finely clawed feet that rushed over them. The kittens were glad they were home.
He took her into his arms, still standing where they had entered, burrowing his face into her neck and sighing a breath of deep relief.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” he said in amazement. “When Georgina decided to do her circus performance and walk down that ladder, I thought I’d have a heart attack. My father will be amazed to hear about how all those years of ballet lessons paid off.”
His face became intent.
“Willow, when I saw your abandoned car, and then those cars at the barn, I thought I had lost you.”
“I’m not that easy to get r
id of, Rockford,” she said lightly, her heart hammering. “But I had my own doubts, until I looked up and saw you there. Ready to help me . . . I knew together we could do it. You were willing to risk running straight into a gun.”
“I’d risk anything for you, don’t you know that by now, crazy lady? I love you.” His hold on her tightened, stirring fire-hot feelings inside, and she knew that her singing heart was safe.
“I love you, too, Rockford,” she whispered, saying the words she knew would last forever.
He kissed her then, a deep, satisfying kiss that curled her toes and made her bones melt. The kiss promised a lifetime of love . . . until the kittens started climbing up their legs, begging for attention.
Laughing, they reluctantly broke away from each other.
“Feeding time at the zoo,” exclaimed Rockford. I’ll get the food, you gather the inmates.”
“It’s wonderful that the Burdetts will be returning and will be rebuilding their house. I’m glad the real estate and insurance details could be worked out.
She began scooping kittens from the floor, noticing the button on the answering machine blinking as she passed. She pushed the button.
“Well, hello, Willow!” the big voice on the tape filled the room. It was Mr. Reynolds. “We’re back from the most exciting cruise in the world, and I can’t wait to tell you about it. I stopped by the office, and things look like they’ve been running well. Although Mildred is acting a little unlike herself. She’s changed her clothes and her hair. I’m not exactly sure what’s gotten into her. I’ve decided that you both deserve a couple of days off, since I’m back to hold the fort. Do something exciting, and then on Monday I’ll make you a cup of coffee on my new state-of-the-art coffeemaker!”
Laughing, and juggling four of the kittens, Willow headed for the little kitchen. The animals immediately attacked the waiting food.
“Reynolds sounds like a nice guy. Where’s the other kitten?” said Rockford, counting.
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