A Stolen Chance (19 page)

Susan slipped the .38 revolver from her coat pocket and eased it under her right leg within easy reach. The sound of running footsteps drawing nearer alerted her to Dewayne’s approach. Eyes closed, she tried to let her body go slack and pretend unconsciousness. No doubt he’d be able to see her erratic breathing under the animal. Willing it to slow, she waited.

This is it, Susan. Your chance to kill the man who beat you senseless, scarred your face, and caused all the grief you’ve suffered. The death of Lauren.
Hate boiled inside and steadied her nerves.
Slow breath, wait…let him think you’re dead or at least unconscious.

The sounds of Dewayne’s footsteps slowed, and then stopped. His harsh breathing was the only sound on the desert air. Evidently he hadn’t kept in shape and his run had winded him. Slight noises rustled from another direction. His position had shifted. Damn, he was suspicious and approaching cautiously. She forced herself to keep her eyes closed and still.

Cold steel touched her forehead. She popped her eyes open and allowed her gaze to travel up the length of the rifle barrel. She stared at the grinning face of her archenemy, only he was no longer the handsome man she’d known. His face wasn’t badly scarred, but the lack of eyebrows and lashes made his cold eyes radiate even more malice. The dark-rimmed glasses with their thick lenses tripled the size of the blue orbs.

“Can’t fool me, bitch! You were always good at playing possum.” He nudged Hans with his boot.

The dog whined but didn’t attempt to move.

Susan feared he was severely wounded, else he’d already have attacked Dewayne. From the amount of warm wetness seeping into her clothes, he was bleeding badly and the wound needed immediate attention for him to survive.

“Get up,” Dewayne ordered.

Play for time, Susan.
Carson has to have heard the gunshot and will be on his way.
She pretended to try to ease Hans off her. “I can’t. He’s too heavy.”

The sound of a hammer being pulled back drew her eyes to Dewayne’s left hand and a .45 revolver. He aimed for Hans’s head. “Either move the damn dog or I’ll make sure he’s dead.”

“No! I’ll try harder.” If only she could ease her hand back under her for the gun before Dewayne could follow through on his threat. Her fingers inched toward her leg.

“I mean it, Susan. He’s just a mangy animal.”

Shouts rang out across the desert from the direction of the Siesta Motel.
Carson. And thank God he wasn’t alone.

With a booted foot, Dewayne rolled Hans off her. He pocketed the revolver and with his left hand grabbed the front of her jacket and yanked her up. Her hand fumbled for her .38 but she stumbled and dropped it. She cried out in frustration.

A bullet whizzed past Dewayne’s head. He cursed and dragged her along toward the abandoned buildings.

“Susan! Down!” Carson’s voice carried across the distance. Remembering her training, she dropped to the dirt, breaking Dewayne’s grasp on her. The loose rocks scraped her hands and knees.

Dewayne stopped and bent to grab her. His head jerked up at the sound of gunfire. Bullets flew past his head. He ducked and hunched his shoulders. “I’ll get you, Susan,” he shrieked as he turned and ran.

Susan scrambled back for her revolver. She rose to her knees, took aim and fired. “Take that, you sorry son-of-a-bitch.” She aimed for his back. “Run, you coward!”

He stumbled. Had she hit him? He glanced over his shoulder to see her taking aim again, ducked his head, and broke into a shuffling run.

She shot the remaining four rounds in her Smith and Wesson but missed him.

More voices joined Carson’s. “She got him,” hollered one of the men.

Carson dropped to the dirt beside her, hands gripping her shoulders. “Oh, God. You’re covered in blood?” His hands skimmed her body, checking for wounds, while George and Joe continued to chase after Dewayne.

“No, no. This is Hans’s blood.” She gingerly touched the back of her head. It was sore, but no skin was broken.

“Thank God.” He held her close, his breath warm against her hair.

“But...” Her voice broke. “Hans is hurt pretty bad.”

Jaw rigid, he rose and pulled her to her feet. They hurried to Hans and dropped beside him. Carson’s hands roamed lovingly over the animal and carefully turned him to expose a bleeding hole in his abdomen. Voice thick with held-in emotion, Carson crooned, “It’s going to be okay, boy. We’ll get you to the doc.” He rubbed Hans’s head. “You did a fine job, boy. You protected Susan.”

Hans, his breathing rapid, whined and licked Carson’s hand. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he quieted. Carson felt for a pulse and breathed, “He’s still alive.”

George and Joe returned. “Sorry, Carson, he got in that little car and hightailed it out of here. Cut across the field to the interstate. Didn’t even take the main road.” Joe guffawed. “Bet his tires will be a mess and he won’t get far.”

George dropped beside them and touched Hans. “Ah, man. He’s not dead, is he?”

Carson shrugged out of his jacket. “No, but he could die at any minute. I need to get him to the vet. Help me slide him onto my jacket.”

When Hans was wrapped up, Carson lifted the bundle and carried him back to the café. Susan held the truck door while he slid in with Hans cradled against his chest. She climbed behind the wheel and, throwing gravel, sped off toward Siesta and the veterinary clinic. George had called ahead, and Dr. Juarez had the surgery ready.

Joe had contacted the police, and a manhunt was underway. Undoubtedly Dewayne would need medical care; their bullets had hit him at least once. If he turned up at an area hospital, he’d be arrested. While she waited for Carson to return to the waiting room, a local police officer arrived to take her statement. She couldn’t tell him much. Hopefully Joe or George would be able to identify the type of car Dewayne had been driving.

Two hours later, Carson came into the lobby. His face haggard, he smiled and pulled her into his arms. “He’s going to make it, but he’ll need to stay here overnight.”

She sagged with relief. “I’m so glad.”

His hand cupped her cheek as he peered down at her. “I’m going to stay with him for awhile, but I’ll be at your place later tonight. I’ll have Joe and George keep an eye on you until I can get there.”

“There is no need. I’ll be fine. You stay with Hans.” After all, she’d winged Dewayne. “I doubt Dewayne will be up to coming after me tonight.”

“I don’t know. The man’s not done anything like we thought he would.” His brow furrowed. “Maybe you should go stay with Aunt Leona and Uncle Buck until I can pick you up.”

She didn’t want to go somewhere else. The little cottage had become home, and that’s where she wanted to be. “I’ll be fine, Carson.” She smiled up at him, hoping to ease his worry. “You concentrate on Hans. Do you need anything from home, like a shave kit or clean underwear?”

He grinned and tweaked her nose. “Haha, very funny. I don’t think they have human showers here, and I don’t intend to get in the dog bath.”

“How will you get home?”

“I’ll have someone bring my pickup back and leave it out front.”

Carson walked her to the truck. She slid behind the wheel, and to her surprise he opened the passenger door and got in beside her. Arm around her shoulders, he tugged. “Come here, woman.”

She moved to snuggle against him. He tilted her face to his and traced her lips with a finger. “You scared the devil out of me earlier. I don’t know what I’d have done if Dewayne had killed you. I think I aged ten years.”

“Well, I was rather terrified myself.”

“You did really well, sweetheart. I’m proud of how you handled yourself.” He chuckled. “Guess we know you can shoot someone if you have to.”

“Surprised you, huh? Surprised myself, too.” But she’d not thought twice about firing at Dewayne. She guessed her self-preservation instinct took over.

“I had hoped tonight we’d be together in my bed, skin to skin.” He yanked on her coat. “Not with all these layers between us.”

His words sent fire to her belly. She longed for the same thing, being with this man, fully. “Uh, well, sorry about that.” Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest. She tugged his mouth down to hers and whispered against it. “I’d rather hoped for the same thing.”

A groan rumbled from his chest. “I love you, Susan. I want you to marry me and us to build a life together.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And I want to have sex with you every morning and night.”

She wanted that too, but feared he would be disappointed after they made love. Dewayne had been. Said she was a cold bitch. Well, after his foray into drugs, that is. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Carson.”

“You cannot disappoint me, Susan. Your body responds to mine, as mine does to yours. Together we’ll set the sheets on fire...or the kitchen table...or—”

“Yikes! Enough.” Her face burned, and no doubt he could see her embarrassment.

He nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.” He kissed his way to her lips. “Kiss me now before I go back inside.”

When he released her, they both gasped for air. “Still have doubts?”

She grinned. “No.”

He slid across the seat and out of the cab. “Be careful. See you in the morning.”

“I will.” She started the truck. “And Carson, I love you too.”

Chapter Eighteen

Though Hans never made much noise, the lack of the dog’s company caused Susan some disquiet. From her spot in the middle of the bed, she glanced toward the huge pillow Carson had purchased as a bed for Hans. The plaid flannel cushion took up an immense amount of space beside her bed. Every time she got up, she had to watch her step to keep from tripping over it. Hans had immediately known the pad was for him. He’d stepped into the middle, turned around several times, and plunked down. Susan grinned at the memory.

Carson had asked, “Does it meet with your approval, boy?”

A woof had been his answer.

Susan glanced around the room. She wasn’t afraid, more like lonely, missed the click of Hans’s nails, his scratching, his snuffling snore at night. Anyway, Dewayne was probably holed up somewhere nursing his wounds. Had he found medical care, or would he have patched himself up in fear of being arrested if he visited a hospital? No telling. With his connections, he might be in a facility being pampered this very minute. Regardless, he wouldn’t be on her doorstep.

She closed her laptop and reached to set it on the bedside table. Her revolver lay within easy reach, as did her cell phone. She turned out the reading light and snuggled down under the covers. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She watched little flickers of light from the headlights on the interstate dance by on the shiny tiles of the fireplace. Why hadn’t Mr. Riley been back to give them further clues to the treasure? Carson had been thrilled to find the house plans, especially those with notes all over them. They’d even come across a sketch for the tile arrangement and the mantel, but it offered no hints on a secret compartment.

“Where are you, Mr. Riley?” The quiet continued. “Your great-grandson needs your help, you know. By the way, he met your wife’s sister, Nona. What a shame Lily and Nona never saw each other again. Of course, Nona was very small at the time, but even though your wife’s name was never spoken again, Nona remembered her big sister.”

Susan yawned, ending in an “ohhh” as she fell asleep.

****

A sound woke her. Cold air brushed against her cheek. She lay still, thinking. Seemed Mr. Riley must have heard her earlier and decided to show himself. Why couldn’t he have come while she was awake? She sniffed the air, seeking the faint scent of tobacco, but instead of its sweet fragrance she caught a whiff of something rancid, dirty. She stiffened and reached for her revolver.

“Don’t move.” She heard a menacingly familiar cackle and the slap of a hand against cloth. “I’ve got your little gun in my pocket here.”

She froze and rolled to her back to face her intruder. Praying it wasn’t Dewayne would be useless, but a plea for help might work.
Lord, please help me live.
Her heart thudded against her chest, making breathing difficult. Her hands shook as she pressed them against the mattress and scooted up in the bed to lean against the headboard.
Calm down, Susan. Don’t let him see your fear.

“What? No shrieks of fear, pleas for your life?” He glanced around the dark room, dimly lit by moonlight and the neon signs outside. “Where’s your lover?”

He stood two feet from the bed, a gun aimed in her direction. Why wasn’t he licking his wounds somewhere?

Anger rose inside her over what he’d done to Hans, what he’d tried to do to her. “He’s at the animal hospital with Hans. The dog is going to recover.”

“Ah, how sweet.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t aiming for him, but the mutt got in the way.”

“You better pray he never sees you again, because he’ll tear you into little pieces—so fast you’ll never see him coming.”

“Shut up. I don’t like your lippy attitude. Liked you better when you were a scaredy-cat.”

“Guess you beat it all out of me, Dewayne.”

“Well, after tonight I won’t have to worry about it any longer.” He walked to the end of the bed, his limp making his progress slow. How had she missed his shuffling gait, not heard him, when he came in? It must be the pain medication she’d taken.