Lonestar Secrets Read online

  "Rick!" Shannon protested.

  Rick spread his hands out. "It's the best way," he said, glancing at the girls. He turned his gaze back to Jack. "I'll let her explain it. You have a booster seat for Faith?"

  Jack glanced at Shannon's red face. What was going on?

  "I'll get it." Whatever Shannon's errand was, she didn't want him to know about it.

  10

  THE BAILEY FAMILY AND THE TWINS LEFT WITH A WAVE. SHANNON COULD strangle Rick. She'd have to handle this very carefully so she didn't have to explain to Jack what was going on. "I need to run by my old apartment," she said.

  Jack folded his arms across his chest. "That's all? I expected to find Rick's throat slashed after that glare you shot him. Or is it you just don't want to be in my company?"

  "It's complicated," she muttered, glancing around. "Where's your car?"

  "Over there." He pointed and she headed toward it. He unlocked it before she got there. "Where are we going?" he asked once they were buckled in.

  "My apartment isn't far. Turn left out of the mall." Her mind raced through how she might handle this. Maybe she could get him to wait in the car. That would work. She told him where to turn, and fifteen minutes later, he parked on the street outside her old apartment in the projects.

  One big problem. She didn't have a key any longer.

  When she made no move to open her door, Jack glanced at her with a question in his eyes. "You're not going in?"

  "Sure, just thinking. You can wait here. I won't be long."

  "Fine." He tugged his cowboy hat forward, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

  Whew, she'd dodged that bullet. She hurried toward the building, an aging structure missing chunks of brick. The old tile floors were chipped and loose inside the main door. Her apartment was on the second floor, and there was no elevator. She stared up the dirt-caked flight of stairs. All the way up the steps, she prayed to find Mary Beth inside the apartment.

  By the time she reached the second floor, she was panting and her leg was hurting. The apartment was at the end of the long, poorly lit hallway. There were few long-term renters in the building, and none on this floor, so there was no one she could ask for help.

  Her old life suddenly didn't seem so far away. The sound of a child crying was followed by a slap and even louder wailing. Paint flakes crunched under her feet. The odor of marijuana wafted around a teenager with sullen eyes who brushed past her.

  Anything Shannon must do to make sure Kylie never came back to a place like this would be worth it. Seeing her old home with new eyes, she hated that her daughter had ever endured this.

  A man exited the door at the end of the hall. On the left. Her door.

  Shannon took a quick turn into a stairwell before he could see her. She'd seen that tall figure before, and the glimpse of his curly hair made it hard to breathe. Pressing back against the brick wall in a dark corner, she watched his shadow pass her hidey-hole. She waited until his footsteps faded.

  Shaking, she wobbled along the hallway to the apartment door until she stood in front of apartment 222. The doorknob appeared too grimy to touch, even though she'd washed it often when she lived here. The door too. The dirt must have crawled right up the minute she was gone.

  She shook her head at her fanciful notions and reached out to touch the knob. It turned under her fingers, and she heard the latch click. He'd left it unlocked. She pushed open the door. "Mary Beth?" she called, flinching at the stale odor that rushed out. The blinds were shut, and the room was dark. She flipped on the light switch and closed the door behind her. She tried to lock it, but he'd broken the knob getting in.

  No one answered her, and the apartment felt empty. Her slim hope of finding Mary Beth here evaporated. The sooner she looked around and got out of here, the happier she'd be. She doubted the man would come back, but the hair still stood up on the back of her neck. Her gaze swept the room and the meager furnishings a sofa and two wooden chairs. Clean though. She'd made sure of that. Two of Kylie's crayon drawings still decorated the refrigerator.

  She headed for Mary Beth's bedroom, passing the one she'd shared with Kylie on the way. The two twin beds were still in the tiny room, though someone had removed the mattresses and leaned them on the far wall. No dust bunnies huddled under the rusting springs yet. In this room she'd studied and mothered between her working hours. Looking back, it seemed impossible she'd managed to graduate from vet school.

  She averted her gaze and hurried on to Mary Beth's room. The door was closed. She pushed it open and stared at the mess. Even on her worst days, Mary Beth was never this messy. Contents from the painted dresser lay scattered on the floor. The bedclothes were rolled up and in a corner. The mattress was off the bed too.

  He'd searched the apartment of course. It had been a waste of time to come here after she'd seen him.

  She slumped against the doorjamb. If what he sought was here, he would have taken it with him. She turned to go when she remembered the hiding place she and Mary Beth had sometimes used for their meager amounts of savings. Mary Beth put other things in it as well. Retracing her steps to the living area, she went to the tiny kitchen. She climbed onto the counter, just a piece of plywood covered with linoleum, and ran her hand along the grimy cabinet top. The wall was ancient brick. She found the loose one and pulled it out. It was too dark to see the makeshift cubby, so she stood on her tiptoes and ran her hand inside.

  "What are you doing?" Jack asked behind her.

  She nearly fell off the counter. Grabbing the top of the cabinet for support, she glared down at him. "You scared the life out of me!"

  "You were gone so long, I thought I'd better check."

  She wiped her dusty hands on her jeans. "How'd you know which apartment?"

  "I called Rick to have him ask Kylie."

  Smart man. And maybe useful. Her fingers had barely brushed something in the cavity, but she couldn't reach the back of the hiding place. "Could you climb up here and get something for me? I can't quite reach it."

  "Sure." His big hands circled her waist, and he lifted her down from the counter.

  She fell against his chest, and for a moment, it was as if they were embracing. His breath stirred her hair. "It must have been sweltering in the car," she said, pushing away.

  He dropped his hands and stepped back as if she were the one who was hot. "It was." He climbed onto the counter and stood. "Here?"

  She watched him stick his hand in the cavity. "Yes."

  "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

  "Whatever's in there," she said. His lips compressed, and she knew he thought she didn't want to tell him. This current situation was something that she wanted to put behind her and never look at again. There was no need to drag him into it. If she could just find whatever money Mary Beth had taken and give it back, this nightmare would be over. Especially for Mary Beth.

  He extracted a paper bag wrapped around a booklike shape. "Here you go." He tossed it down to her. "Why didn't you just admit it was your diary?" Grinning, he jumped down from the counter. He thrust the package into her hands.

  "Thanks," she said.

  "We ready to go? Rick said they were done with lunch. We can grab some fast food and meet them at the airport."

  She was dying to see what was in the sack. "Let me run to the ladies' room a minute." She started to tell him to go on down to the car, then thought better of it. Having Jack here made her feel safer. "I'll just be a minute."

  She hurried to the bathroom and shut the door behind her before unwrapping the bundle. A book fell out. Leather-bound and expen sive with a design embossed on the front. Nicer than she'd ever seen in her friend's possession. She flipped it open. The paper was thick and costly too. There was no name in the front, and the first few pages held rows of figures.

  She glanced at her watch. Jack would be getting impatient. This would take some deciphering. After putting the book back into the bag, she flushed the toilet so he wasn't suspicious, then wash
ed the apartment's dirt from her hands.

  If only she could wash the problems away as easily.

  TUESDAY MORNING, AFTER SHANNON DISCOVERED HER JEEP HAD A FLAT, Rick offered to drive her to work. On the way, the text message jingle sounded on Shannon's cell phone. She inhaled quickly, then called up the message. It wasn't from Mary Beth.

  Time's up. Way up. Look under your seat.

  Her mouth went dry. She reached under the seat. Her fingers encountered a box. Shoe-box size. She pulled it out and lifted it to her lap. It was lightweight as though it contained nothing, but something told her she wouldn't like the contents. For a moment she wanted to toss it into the back and ignore it. But she couldn't do that. Mary Beth's life was at stake. She stared at the top of the shoe box "Nike," the box read.

  "What's that?" Rick asked.

  "I just got a message telling me to look there," she said. Holding her breath, she lifted the lid and stared down at a mass of brown. What on earth?Then it hit her. Mary Beth's hair. All of it, by the looks of the amount in the box. Shannon slammed shut the lid and took several deep breaths.

  Another text message signal sounded. Next time I'll send her head.

  She texted back. I don't have what you want. Panic beat against her chest. Was Mary Beth all right? Don't hurt her.

  Rick veered across the road then centered his truck and pulled it to the side of the road. "What is it?"

  "It's Mary Beth's hair! The guy just texted me. He said the next time he'll send her head." She grabbed her phone and dialed the Midland station of the Texas Rangers. The officer she spoke to promised to send out someone to pick up the hair. Not that having it in their custody would find Mary Beth.

  If she was even still alive.

  "He let more than twenty-four hours go by," Rick said. "Any idea why?"

  "When he didn't contact me, I'd hoped he found what he was looking for in our old apartment. Or else he'd figured out I didn't know anything. But I should have known better. Mary Beth would have called me if she was okay. I went through that journal I found, but I couldn't make it out. It's just a financial ledger of some kind. In the back was a love letter from Mary Beth to some guy, but there's no name."

  "Maybe it's the guy's ledger."

  Shannon shuddered. "To be betrayed by the man you love would be the worst thing I can imagine." Which was why Jack's betrayal in school had hurt.

  Rick let her out and she went to work. By afternoon the weather had turned even hotter. The wind blew stinging dust against Shannon's cheeks. She glanced at the yellow sky, dark and threatening, as she ran her hands over a mare's legs. A true dust storm was headed this way. Likely the trainers were packing up their gear and getting things stowed away before it hit.

  "I think she'll be okay," she told the trainer, a cowboy who proudly wore his rodeo buckles, a different one every day. "It's just a sprain."

  He thanked her and she hurried toward the parking lot. Rick could read the sky as easily as she did, and he'd be ready to get home and make sure everything was battened down and ready.

  Another four days and she'd be a married woman. The scariest part of that equation was that she knew little about Jack and how he might expect her to behave. Facing him across the dinner table every night was just the beginning. He ran in different circles than she did. She was a cowgirl at heart, one who was happier around horses than around people, especially people with money. Maybe she was judgmental. She might find Jack's circle down-to-earth and interesting. It was bound to be different though.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, a rope whooshed over her head and settled around her waist. The loop tightened with a jerk, and she stumbled. The next thing she knew, she was facedown in the dirt with the wind swirling grit in her eyes. Hands seized her feet and wrapped rope around her ankles.

  She rolled onto her side so she could peer up. Tucker was grinning down at her. "Untie me," she said through gritted teeth. "What in Sam Hill do you think you're doing?"

  "Fifteen seconds to bring the calf to ground," he crowed. "Just practicing, darlin'."

  "Practice on a post. Untie me. Now." And when she got loose, she was going to sock him.

  "Ask me nicely," he said, his grin widening.

  "Tucker. Get these ropes off me." Vainly she struggled against the rough hemp.

  "You never could take a joke." He knelt and unwound the rope from her ankles.

  She got to her feet and pushed his hands away from her waist. "I can take it from here." She widened the loop and stepped free of it. The words she wanted to lash him with stayed locked behind her teeth, and she had to keep them there. Giving in to her anger would be playing into his hands. He lived to get someone's goat.

  As she turned to leave him, his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. "Not so fast. I want to talk to you."

  "A storm is coming, in case you haven't noticed. Keep it quick."

  The crooked smile that used to thrill her was in perfect form, but today it only raised her level of alarm. What did he want? She prayed it wouldn't involve Kylie.

  "I talked to Kylie the other day. Cute kid," he said. "She looks just like you." He swiped at her hair, but she danced away, and his eyes hardened. "I started thinking about something you said when we were together. You mentioned some Spanish artifacts your parents had been looking for. But here's the interesting thing I've been doing some research on those artifacts, and none of the books mentions a sword inlaid with emeralds." He leaned closer. "Way I figure it, your parents found that treasure. And you saw it."

  The cold hand of fear gripped her spine, but she managed to look him in the eye and keep her voice even. "You can dream up anything you like, Tucker. Just leave me out of your delusions."

  She wheeled and walked toward the parking lot at a pace that wouldn't seem as though she was running. Her heart beat against her ribs, and she prayed he didn't follow.

  She thought the story of that treasure had died long ago. But when cowboys got together, they resurrected tales, so she should have expected this.

  Rick was waiting at the truck when she arrived at the lot, and he frowned when he saw her face. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Just Tucker being himself."

  "You sound like you know him well."

  "Too well." Changing the subject might help. "You had a fresh batch of kids due this afternoon, didn't you?" The Bluebird Ranch was a camp that helped abused kids by connecting them with abused horses.

  He nodded. "They're here. Seven of them. They took to the horses right off. Allie has them mucking out the stalls right now."

  "Fun. They'll want to head back to the city, especially when they go through this sandstorm."

  "They always want to run scared, but it won't take long for them to settle in. Allie is great with them."

  "You two make a perfect team."

  He beamed. "We're grateful God opened the door for us to make a difference with these throwaway kids."

  "And the throwaway horses."

  "Those too," he agreed. He glanced at the sky. "We'd better move on home. That storm will be here in an hour.

  She nodded and climbed into the truck. Rick accelerated down the road toward home. The roar of another truck passing them caused Shannon to glance up. Tucker waved and grinned as he barreled past, and Shannon leaned her head against the window and wondered what she was going to do about him. So far he hadn't made any demand to see Kylie, but Shannon feared it was coming. He was all about power, and forcing her to admit him into Kylie's life would be the ultimate power trip.

  They reached the Bluebird Ranch, and Buck, the fireman Shannon had met a few days ago, came rushing down the steps. The fire in their area had been put out, but Rick had invited him to stay to discuss coming to work at Bluebird. Rick had been thinking about adding overnight mountain campouts to the program.

  Rick and Shannon jumped out of the truck as he reached them. "What's wrong?" Shannon asked, her first thought rushing to her daughter's safety.

  "The wind has already torn off one
of the barn doors. Bluebird got out."

  The mare was Betsy's favorite. No one could ride her except the little girl. She'd be devastated if they didn't recover the horse.

  "You batten down the hatches and I'll go look for Bluebird," Shannon said. "Make sure you call Moses in." She headed toward the barn. If only she had jewel. The horse had an uncanny ability to know what she needed to do. Even whistling for the stallion would be useless in this wind. She'd have to do the best she could with Cupcake.

  Glancing at the sky, she knew she didn't have much time before the sandstorm hit. It could be deadly for her or the horses to be caught out in this.

  11

  WITH THE SHUTTERS CLOSED AND THE BARNS LOCKED UP TIGHT, JACK settled into his favorite chair by the massive stone fireplace in his office. He had his favorite dog-eared copy of Riders of the Purple Sage in his hand, and he looked forward to a comfortable evening reading with his dog at his feet while the wind howled outside.

  The phone rang, but he let Enrica answer it in the kitchen. She knew not to disturb him when his office door was shut unless it was an emergency.

  A few moments later, a tap sounded on his door, and he sprang to his feet. "Come in."

  Enrica poked her head in. "Mr. Jack, Mr. Rick on the phone. He say he need help. Miss Allie having pain, and he must take her to clinic. Miss Shannon out looking for lost horse. No one there for the ninas. He ask can he bring them here."

  Jack tossed his book down and glanced out the window. Dust swirled outside, turning daylight to dusk. The wind was already making fine drifts of sand along the fence. The thought of Shannon outside in this brought him bolting out of his chair.

  He grabbed the phone from the desk. "Rick? Drop the girls off here. Enrica will keep them while I go look for Shannon. How long has she been out there?" He glanced out the window at the swirling sand again. It wasn't nearly as bad as it was going to get, according to the news.