Rocky Mountain Revenge

by Rhonda Starnes

  “What about Avery and Valerie?” She twisted to look behind them. The pair had stopped to talk to Torres. Avery had a wad of money in his hand.

  “The way he was talking, I have a feeling they aren’t sticking around for all the races, either.” Evan steered her toward the entrance. “Even if they do, Ingalls saw him. I’m sure he’s notified his partner who’s stationed outside the entrance to follow them when they leave.”

  Grace didn’t want to have gotten this close to capturing the man after her just to lose him again. Evan had warned her that no matter what they saw at the race today, he couldn’t make any arrests because they were outside his jurisdiction. It was up to Agent Ingalls and his partner to determine which arrests—if any—they could make.

  “What if he gives them the slip?”

  Evan laughed. “There you go, trying to sound like a movie detective again.”

  “Ev—” She took a deep breath. “Trey. I’m serious.”

  “I know you are. I am, too. Your safety is my top priority.”

  They walked past the guard who’d tried to deny them admittance and headed for the parking area.

  “Hey! Greg, stop them!” Torres yelled, running in their direction.

  “Keep walking, but don’t run. He may not mean us,” Evan instructed her.

  Darting a glance over her shoulder, Grace saw that Avery and Valerie had reached the gate. The man, Greg, stepped in front of them.

  “Not them! Stop Mr. and Mrs. Texas!”

  Greg spun and sprinted in their direction.

  “Run!” Evan commanded.

  They raced to the rental truck, a black extended-cab GMC, parked two rows over. The doors beeped as he hit the unlock button on the remote.

  Greg was closing in on them when a white SUV sped out of nowhere, blocking his path. He hit the hood with his fist and yelled. The female driver laid on the horn and pulled forward as Greg tried to go around the front of her vehicle, encouraging him to yell louder while enabling them to reach the safety of the truck.

  Grace climbed into the passenger seat as Evan started the engine. “Go. Go. Go!” she urged, twisting in her seat to see Greg and Torres standing in the middle of the parking lot staring after their fleeing vehicle.

  Grace settled back into her seat and fastened the seat belt. “Wow, that was perfect timing the vehicle showed up when it did.”

  “Yes, wasn’t it,” he said more as a statement than a question.

  “What are you not telling me?”

  “Randy Ingalls’s partner, Agent Katherine Lewis, was driving that vehicle.” He merged onto US-50, heading toward Penrose.

  “Why do you think Torres chased us?”

  “I think he went to verify we placed a large bet. Found out we didn’t and realized he’d been tricked.”

  “Could he have figured out who we were?”

  “If anyone could have recognized us, it would have been Valerie. She looked straight at us when they walked by on their way to collect their winnings and didn’t even blink.”

  “Do you think she could be the one who stole the drugs and altered the records?” Grace felt disloyal even letting the thought enter her head, but she had to ask.

  “We definitely can’t rule her out yet.”

  Grace thought of the things she’d witnessed at the race, especially the injections being given to the horses. To her knowledge, there hadn’t been a veterinarian on duty like there would have been at a sanctioned race. Anger welled inside her at the thought of an employee of Porter Animal Clinic being involved in illegal activities involving animals. How could anyone who worked in a veterinary clinic take part in such an event?

  * * *

  Evan put his Jeep into Reverse and backed out of the space in the Denver Memorial parking deck. He hadn’t planned on making the trip to Denver tonight, but after seeing Grace’s disappointment over discovering Valerie with Avery, he’d wanted to do something nice for her. So, after returning the rental and retrieving his personal vehicle, he’d taken her to visit Chloe.

  He glanced at Grace, sitting beside him. Though he’d only been able to remove his contacts and wig, she had erased all traces of Shelby Green before entering Chloe’s hospital room. “Are you hungry? We could go through a drive-through if you’d like.”

  “How about we eat in Monument? There’s a burger joint I like to stop at when I make this drive. It’s almost halfway, and a perfect spot to stop and stretch. Plus, they make the best burgers and onion rings.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He pulled to a stop and put tokens into the slot so the mechanical arm would rise, allowing them to exit the parking deck.

  “Thank you for taking me to see Chloe tonight. I know you hadn’t planned on making the trip, but I appreciate it.”

  “Did you enjoy your time with your sister?”

  “Oh, yes. Dr. Carson seems completely satisfied with her progress.” She smiled. “The swelling has gone down, and he’s optimistic she’ll make a full recovery.”

  She continued, happily rattling on, filling him in on the changes in Chloe’s condition, and all the things she wanted to do with her sister once she had fully recovered. The time with her sister, even if the conversation had been one-sided, had done her good.

  Evan wished he had witnessed Grace’s special time with Chloe, but he’d stayed outside the room, talking to Lieutenant Johnson, who was waiting on Ryan to arrive and take over the night-shift guard duty.

  “Did the doctor say when he planned to bring her out of the coma?”

  “He said there’s no way to know for sure. It could be tomorrow or it could be several more days.” She sighed. “He promised to call me when they start the process to wake her. I really want to be there. To be the first person she sees.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to make that happen.”

  “I know you will. It’s the kind of person you are. You have a servant’s heart, and you take care of the people in your life. That’s what makes you so good at your job.”

  Her words jolted him. When Evan had been in high school, his main goal in everything he did had been to make Grace proud of him. She wouldn’t be so proud if she knew how he’d failed Lisa. Maybe it was time to come clean.

  “I’m not perfect. There have been plenty of times when I’ve not taken care of the people in my life. Lisa for one.” His voice cracked, and he fought to tamp down the pain.

  He turned onto the interstate access road and built up speed to merge onto I-225. The traffic was thick even for nine o’clock on a Sunday night.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Grace asked softly.

  Did he want to? No. But he needed to tell her his secret. She had to understand so she wouldn’t have too high an opinion of his abilities.

  “After Lisa had Camden, she became withdrawn. She had a difficult labor. At first, I thought the trauma of the labor combined with the demands of a newborn were the reasons she seemed so tired and withdrawn. I offered to hire a nanny to help, but that infuriated her.”

  A pang of guilt stabbed at him for talking about his deceased wife and revealing her secrets to his first love, but he couldn’t tell his story without revealing Lisa’s, too.

  Lord, forgive me. I’m not meaning to gossip.

  A bolt of lightning lit the sky, followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder. Big, fat raindrops began to fall from the sky, obscuring his view. He turned on the wipers, but they were of little use in this downpour. Putting on the flashers, he pulled onto the shoulder of the highway.

  He turned to face Grace. It was time she knew she’d made the right decision to build a life somewhere else, away from him.

  “Lisa thought I was implying she wasn’t capable of taking care of our son.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t what I meant at all.”

  “Of course, it wasn’t,” Grace insisted.

 
Sweet Grace, she still didn’t get it. “I could have handled things better. If, instead of trying to throw money at the situation, I had paid attention and been there for my wife, I may have realized she was suffering from postpartum depression. And maybe she’d be alive today.”

  Grace gasped. “You don’t mean she...”

  “Harmed herself?” He definitely hadn’t meant to imply anything like that. “No. But two weeks after we found out we were having a daughter, Lisa suffered a miscarriage and her depression deepened. She was sleeping all the time and not eating. Her appearance became very gaunt. I tried to get her to see a counselor, but she refused. Her ob-gyn prescribed a mild antidepressant, but she wouldn’t take it.”

  Lightning danced in the night sky, and he studied it as he tried to choose his next words. Grace sat quietly. Evan knew she would wait indefinitely for him to continue, and if he didn’t, she would be okay with that, too. She’d never been pushy about needing to know everything. Even when she’d been younger, she’d seemed to instinctively know there were times people needed to keep things to themselves. It was one of the qualities he’d always admired in her.

  The downpour eased enough that he could see again. So he merged back onto the interstate, driving in silence, his mind a jumble of thoughts as he waged an internal war with himself, struggling with his guilt for talking about Lisa when she wasn’t there and his need to be honest. Mostly with himself, for the first time since the accident.

  After he worked his way through the I-25 interchange and they were headed south, his need to be honest with Grace won. “Four months after the miscarriage, we were nearing our third wedding anniversary. I thought a change of scenery—a weekend getaway to Denver—would be good for her. For us.”

  Grace shifted in her seat, tucking her foot under her leg as she always did when listening intently.

  “Lisa’s parents had agreed to watch Camden,” Evan continued. “He was twenty months old, and we’d never left him to go on a trip. I booked two nights in a nice hotel two blocks from the theater district. I had the entire trip planned, a morning of pampering in the spa for Lisa, followed by shopping, a romantic dinner and a play.”

  “That was thoughtful,” Grace said.

  Unfortunately, Lisa hadn’t seen it that way. She’d accused him of being controlling and said he shouldn’t have planned such a trip without checking with her first. It hadn’t mattered what he’d said, she’d been looking for a fight. His second biggest regret from that weekend, besides planning it in the first place, was that he hadn’t taken her straight back to Blackberry Falls when she’d first complained.

  The exit for Monument came into view.

  “Where’s the burger joint?” he asked.

  She directed him to a small all-night diner.

  There were half a dozen cars in the parking lot. He pulled into an empty space about twenty feet from the door. The rain had become a torrential downfall. They were going to get soaked. Evan opened the center console, pulled out a blue compact umbrella and held it out to her. “Here. You use this.”

  She accepted the offering but didn’t move. “What happened that weekend?”

  Grace was waiting for him to finish telling her about Lisa. Hmm. Maybe she had changed when it came to fulfilling her curiosity. Oh, well. Since he was the one who had brought up the topic and insisted on baring his soul, he’d finish.

  “She hated the entire trip and refused to leave the room.” A clap of thunder shook the vehicle. “I finally convinced her to go to dinner and the play...it was one she’d wanted to see for a while. I promised her if she’d do that much, we’d cut our trip short. After the play, we’d go straight back to the hotel, check out and head home, but—” His voice cracked. “We never made it back to the hotel.”

  Grace reached across the seat and clasped his hand. Her touch burned like a brand.

  “I’m sorry. I heard about the drive-by shooting. I didn’t know it was an anniversary trip, or that Lisa had suffered from postpartum.”

  “It wasn’t something we announced.” Evan pulled his hand free of her grasp, opened his door and ran for the awning covering the diner’s door, ignoring the rain pelting his body.

  He didn’t want Grace’s pity. He simply needed her to understand she’d made the right choice in walking away. And she needed to remember that, since he could never give his heart away again. Not to anyone. Even her.

  TWELVE

  Evan had just run through the rain to the diner, away from her. Shame washed over Grace. She hadn’t meant to seem insensitive with her comment. Of course, they hadn’t announced Lisa’s postpartum depression, but it was Blackberry Falls where everyone knew everything. She was impressed he’d been able to keep it a secret.

  But why had he told her? Had being in Denver twice in the past few days brought all the memories crashing down on him? His pain was evident, and it made her heart ache.

  She’d been happy Evan had found someone to spend his life with, and she hated that he and Camden had to live without Lisa in their lives any longer. Grace owed him an apology. Whether or not he’d accept it, she didn’t know, but she’d have to try.

  The rain beat against the windows. She looked at the compact umbrella. Even if it could offer enough protection from the downpour, once she opened the door and stuck the umbrella out to open it, she’d be soaking wet.

  Tossing the umbrella back into the center console, Grace plucked her oversize leather messenger bag off the floorboard, opened her door and dashed across the parking lot to Evan’s side.

  “Why didn’t you use the umbrella?”

  She shrugged. “The way the rain is blowing, I didn’t think an umbrella would do much good.” Tugging the door open, she added, “Come on, I’m starved.”

  The moment she entered the diner, the smell of greasy burgers and salty fries assaulted her. The interior of the restaurant was a nod to a fifties diner without coming off as a cheesy imitation. The floors were black-and-white vinyl tiles laid in a checkerboard pattern. The tables were red Formica, and the booth seats were covered in red-and-white vinyl. That was where the similarity ended.

  Instead of a jukebox full of rock ’n’ roll songs, country music played through surround-sound speakers, and instead of a dress with an apron, the waitress wore blue jeans and a red, polo-style shirt.

  Grace slid into a booth next to the front window and pulled out a laminated menu, even though she knew exactly what she would order. It kept her hands busy.

  Evan slid into the seat across from her. “This place is...interesting.”

  “Kind of old meets new, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Exactly.” He rubbed his hand over his fake beard. “You know, I’m regretting we didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  She smiled. “It sure was funny seeing Lieutenant Johnson’s face when he finally realized we were telling the truth about who we were.”

  “He didn’t believe it until we took out our contacts and pulled off the wigs.” He scratched at the beard again. “This thing is itching. I wish I’d brought the adhesive dissolvent.”

  “Oh. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? I might have something that would work.” She dug into her purse and took out a small blue makeup bag with a hummingbird-print design. Unzipping the bag, she pulled out a rectangular tin, a small plastic bottle and an individually wrapped nail polish remover pad.

  Evan leaned over the table for a better view. “What is all this stuff?”

  She held up the tin. “Cotton swabs.” Then she picked up the bottle. “Baby oil.”

  He reached across and picked up the small pink square packet. “An acetone nail polish remover pad?”

  “That is a last resort,” she laughed, handing him the supplies. “I’m pretty sure, if you apply the baby oil and wait a minute or two, the adhesive will break down and you’ll be able to remove the beard. You already took off the wig, a
nd not to be mean or anything, you kinda look funny with red hair and a dark brown beard and eyebrows.”

  He pointed to his face and wiggled his eyebrows. “Really? You think this looks funny.”

  Grace choked back laughter as the waitress walked up to their table and set down two glasses of water.

  “Hi, my name is Kenzie. I’ll be taking your order. What can I get you to drink?” The woman looked like she should be performing with a rock band instead of working in a diner. In her early twenties, she had short black hair, several piercings, including a nose ring, and an intricate dogwood-flowers tattoo covering most of her right arm.

  Evan motioned for Grace to go first.

  “I’d like coffee, please. And if you don’t mind, could we go ahead and place our food order, too?”

  “Sure, no problem,” Kenzie replied.

  “Great, I’d like a cheeseburger, all the way, and an order of onion rings,” she said, putting the unopened menu back in its table holder.

  The girl wrote everything on her order pad. Then she turned to Evan. “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back with your coffee.” She took a few steps then stopped and turned back to Evan. “You know, if you’re going to wear a fake beard and mustache, you should get a good quality one that matches your natural hair.”

  Grace exploded in laughter as Kenzie walked away.

  Evan held up both hands, palms forward in mock surrender. “Okay. Okay. I’ll go take off the facial hair. I’m tired of itching.” He slid out of the booth and then removed the bolo tie. Slipping it into his inside jacket pocket, he removed the jacket and folded it before holding it out to her. “Do you mind hanging on to this while I’m gone?”

  “No problem.” She accepted the jacket, placing it under her purse beside her on the seat.

  Evan held up his phone. “I’ll be as quick as possible, but if anything happens, call.”

  She nodded, and he headed to the restroom at the back of the diner.

  Kenzie brought two large mugs of coffee to the table along with a red-plastic food basket full of small tubs of individual servings of cream. As she took the items off the tray and placed them on the table, a small wolf tattoo on her inner wrist triggered a flash memory—of a different wolf tattoo on the forearm of the intruder who’d attacked Grace two nights earlier in the clinic.