ACCORDING TO PLAN (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Well, shoot. That didn’t go as planned.

Tank rubbed the back of his neck and paced in the guest bedroom
Polly had graciously offered until he and Shelby had a chance to work things
out. All the scenarios he’d hashed through in his mind never had him staying at
Polly’s. He just assumed Shelby would come home, they’d talk about what
happened and be right back where they were before the fictitious break-up.

He gave a derisive snort.

That plan hit the garbage before it even saw the light of day. Any
dreams he had of her leaping into his arms and begging to be reunited had been
stomped into the ground when she opted to stay at their house—alone—while she adjusted
and went back to work.

He tried to give her some space, but it was hard. Everything in him
screamed to camp outside her door and make sure she was okay. He knew Regis was
in jail. He knew there was no further threat from Carlos, but until he held her
in his arms and could feel her breathe, he wouldn’t rest.

Shelby wasn’t making it easy either. Earlier in the week, he asked
how things were going. She cut him off, said she was on a case and was too busy
to talk. He knew that to be a bold-faced lie. She’d had maybe two phone calls
since she’d returned. Three months absent in the P.I. business is equivalent to
eternity and would-be clients found others to do the job.

Yesterday he brought a coffee for her and Polly and while he cooled
his heels, in the front lobby no less, Caleb called and she smiled. Actually
smiled. Not for him, but Caleb. She smiled for the other guy, who’d called to
check up on
his
girl.

He’d seen the exchange between Caleb and Shelby outside the barn
and almost jumped him there. He pictured himself punching Caleb’s face and felt
a grim satisfaction deep in his gut. But that would last maybe four seconds
because Caleb was a ninth degree black belt and Tank wouldn’t get in another
easy hit.

He could shoot him, but then Grizzle, who called himself Raymonde
now, would take him out. Grizzle had been the best sniper he ever commanded and
stayed in touch with Caleb. Tank, Grizzle, and Caleb, whom they called Cowboy
and Dango, the lone Australian working for the L.A.P.D., had been a tight unit
within the Special Forces. The four of them were brothers and friends. A bond
forged by trust.

Still, friend or not Caleb had to be neutralized and his options
were dwindling. He and Shelby were going to have a serious sit down talk and
that meant getting her to stay in the same room with him. Alone.

When he realized he’d wear out the carpet, pacing back and forth
strategizing, he checked his watch. Shelby would be at the shop in a few
minutes and he meant to corner her there and remind her they still had a lot of
love between them.

****

Staring into space wasn’t helping me get any work done. Not that
there was a lot to do. Being away from the job for over three months hurt my
business. I had a contact at the courthouse who’d give me bail jumpers when
things were slow. If business didn’t pick up, I’d give her a call, but not just
yet. I couldn’t concentrate on anything right now.

My brain refused to stay focused on anything other than how I felt
about Tank. Did I love him or was that just a residual memory from before he
left me? At the ranch, when I was in his arms I’d felt like that was where I
belonged, but since then I’d had to time to calm down and put everything into
perspective.

Once again the hurt he let me suffer through, because he didn’t
trust me to keep his secret, tore at me. Was I willing to let that go and move
forward, or was it time to say good-bye for real this time?

Then I’d remember how he looked when he found me at the ranch. I’d
never seen such raw emotion on his face before and it made me think maybe he
did love me in a way that could last a lifetime.

I was so confused. This wasn’t getting me anywhere. There was
nothing keeping me at the office, except the distant hope someone would call
with a job. A change of scenery was called for and I knew the perfect spot.
Polly’s daddy had a remote cabin he used for hunting near a lake on their
property. Always well stocked I could camp out there for a week or two, sort
through my thoughts and make a decision.

Polly sat at her computer, playing Solitaire.

“Don’t you ever get tired playing that game?”

She looked up. “Not really. I thought reading a magazine would be
too tacky. This way, if anyone did come into the office, at least it looks like
I was working on the computer.”

The logic made sense and I nodded. “Good to know you’ve got the
company’s best interest at heart, Pol.”

She watched me pace the floor. Something I’d been doing a lot
lately. Soon there’d be a permanent path worn out in front of her desk.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking or should we play
twenty questions?”

I stopped pacing.

“Is anyone using your daddy’s cabin right now?”

“You mean the one at Walker Lake?”

“Yeah, the one you and I used to sneak off to when we skipped
class.”

“No one has used it for a while. Why?”

I shoved my hands in the front pocket of my jeans. “I need to
figure out what’s going on between Tank and me. I can’t keep him at arm’s
length much longer. It’s not fair to him or me.”

Polly brought up my appointment calendar on her computer. “The only
thing you have scheduled is your annual physical with Dr. Kaufman. I’ll
reschedule that for the next week.” A few clicks. “There, you’re clear.”

Before I walked out the door I turned. “Polly?”

“What hon’?”

“Don’t tell Tank. If he knew where I was, he’d be all over me like
a scratchy wool sweater.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please. I need time alone.”

“I don’t like it, but alright. Keep your cell phone charged and
call me if you want to talk.”

****

A block away, in a rusted out van with Beryl’s Plumbing emblazoned
on the side, a man sat huddled with a pair of headsets on. Good thing he’d
installed the bug a few years ago, otherwise he’d have no idea how to locate
her. Time was of the essence if he was going to get ahead of her.

****

Where the heck was Shelby?

Tank bit back a curse. He’d gone to her office and neither she nor
Polly was there. A quick drive by their house turned up negative and her Aunt’s
Austen-Healy Sprite wasn’t in the garage either.

Where was she?

Tank prowled around Polly’s house until he found her enjoying a
coffee out on the terrace. She sat in an oversized wicker chair on the shaded
porch which overlooked her wild and colorful gardens. Rolling hills spread out
before the cool, fragrant room. Polly looked up and smiled as he joined her.

“Want some coffee?” She reached for the carafe on the table.

“Sure, thanks.” He pulled up a chair and grabbed a croissant out of
the basket. “I stopped by the office this morning.”

Polly paused, mid sip. Carefully she placed her cup back onto the
saucer.

“Really? It’s closed.”

Tank stirred sugar into the rich, fragrant brew. “I know and I went
by Shelby’s place.”

“She’s not home, either.”

His patience was wearing thin. “I realized that when I stopped by.”

“Do you want anything else?” She gestured toward the plate of
muffins.

Tank tilted closer to her chair. Polly sat as still as a mouse
hoping the cat wouldn’t see her. “I don’t need any muffins, and I don’t need
more coffee. I don’t need anything else you might offer in the way of food. What
I
need
is Shelby’s whereabouts. Mind sharing? I know she wouldn’t go
anywhere without telling you.”

Polly turned and looked him square in the eye. “I promised her this
morning at the office I wouldn’t tell you where she’d gone. Believe me when I
say she’s safe and will come back in a week.”

Frustrated, Tank sat back in the chair. “I love her, Polly.”

“I know.”

Polly was silent for a few minutes, her gaze centered on the far
corner of her garden, or maybe even beyond it. Tank twisted sideways to see
what she was looking at, but after the trimmed hedges surrounding the garden
there was nothing but pasture and a dense forest skirting the edges. Deciding
Polly wasn’t really looking at anything, Tank asked, “What are you thinking
about?”

She sipped her coffee and then, smiling slightly into her cup said,
“I was debating whether I should sell that little hunting lodge in the forest.
Daddy always keeps it well stocked with supplies, but nobody goes there anymore
and that’s too bad because there’s this huge fireplace, just begging to be
used. But, it’s too isolated. Why, anyone could get into it if they knew the
key was under the tin can at the corner of the wood pile.”

Polly finished her coffee and stood, glancing at her watch. “Oh my,
will you look at the time. I’m going to be late for my manicure appointment. I’ve
got a whole week of pampering scheduled, what with the office closed.”

She turned on her heel and as she swayed into the house she called
back over her shoulder, “Take lots of bug spray.”

Tank sat staring after her. Bug spray? What was all that nonsense
about the cabin? Who cared if it was isolated, with no one around? Why would
she tell him where the key was? Wasn’t that the object of hiding it, so no one
would find it and use the place? His mind clicked a few more times and then the
corners of his mouth spread into a huge grin. Thank you, Polly.

He’d name their first daughter after her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The first warning should have been the huge log across the road. I
stopped the car and got out to assess how heavy it was and if I could move it
by myself.

The second warning should have been the convenience of a truck
approaching so soon after I’d stopped. But with my mind on the tree, Tank and
everything else, it passed by without one little red flag popping up.

I couldn’t see the driver as he’d already jumped out of his truck,
but he called over, “Hang on. I’ve got a rope.” Grateful for the unexpected
help, I turned back to the tree and tried to figure out where the best place would
be to winch it to the truck. That was when I noticed the base of the tree wasn’t
broken, but neatly sawn in two.

Finally the two red flags got my attention, but it was too late. An
arm clamped across my shoulders, pinning me against his chest and a foul
smelling cloth was thrust in my face. I struggled and then nothing.

****

Tank finished packing and was headed for his motorcycle when his
phone dinged indicating a text message. Anxious to get to the cabin he thought
about ignoring the persistent dinging, but it was too ingrained in him to make
sure it wasn’t something vital.

His stomach went into free fall when he read the message from Liz.

Regis has posted bail and had been released that morning. Surveillance
showed he spent some time in a plumbing van, but after that the agent lost him.
When they located the van they discovered recording devices and realized he had
a bug in Shelby’s office.

His stomach cramped at the thought of Regis knowing Shelby would be
at the cabin, alone. Tank dropped his duffel bag on the manicured lawn and
raced for his motorcycle, praying he’d get to the cabin before Regis. No way
would he lose her a second time to him.

He gunned the engine and gravel sprayed everywhere as he tore down
the drive and sped off for the only road leading in to Walker Lake. As he came
around a corner, a dirty white truck almost side swiped him before correcting
its course and continuing on.

“Idiot,” Tank muttered. He leaned into the next corner, took the left
fork and then the next right turn onto a slightly overgrown road leading to the
cabin. He’d gone maybe two miles when the sight before him stopped his breath.

Aunt Tillie’s vintage car sat parked in front of a downed tree.
There was no one sign of Shelby. He parked the bike and ran to the car. Shelby’s
purse lay on the front seat, her keys in the ignition.

He touched the hood of the car. Still warm. He looked around. There
was no indication she’d gone into the woods and it was eerily silent. It didn’t
take long to see where the tree had been cut and in the sandy soil it was
obvious some kind of struggle had occurred, as footprints were clearly visible.

The truck! The one he passed on the highway. It had to be Regis,
headed back into town. Regis couldn’t go to his home, so where would he take
Shelby? And was she still alive?

****

The thought of turning my head had bile flooding my mouth. I swallowed
it back because some kind of tape covered my mouth and my hands were tied
behind my back. I’d choke to death if I didn’t get a handle on the fear.

The memory of being attacked by the stranger near the cut tree and
the foul smelling cloth rushed back. Carefully I assessed the situation. By the
look of the room I was on a bed in a cheap motel room.

The guy hadn’t tied my legs. Which was good, but he’d removed my
shoes and stripped off my pants. Relief flooded me. At least he hadn’t raped
me. Yet. If I had to run, I didn’t care if I was only in my panties. My father
had drummed into me that modesty had no place in my vocabulary when it came to
survival.

Pushing through the nausea, I tried to sit. It was at that moment I
heard the card lock on the door activating. Falling back on the bed, I
pretended I was still out cold.

My attacker had his back to me and he dragged a suitcase in behind
him. His build was familiar and I closed my eyes again when he started to turn,
but I’d caught a glimpse and it was enough for me to know his identity.

Regis.

When did he get out of jail, and what was he planning? He moved
around the room and I risked opening one eye just a sliver. He’d thrown the
suitcase on a table and opening it, brought out duct tape and rope and laid
them beside the suitcase. My heart rate tripled when he rummaged in a plastic
grocery bag and brought out a tin of lighter fluid.

Now what?
I could probably roll off the bed, but I had no
way to open the door with my hands tied behind my back.

Without turning, Regis said, “You have awakened. Excellent.”

How’d he know? Like he could read my mind he said, “Your
accelerated rate of breathing alerted me to your conscious state.”

He faced me and frowned. I shrank into the mattress when he
approached the bed.

“No, no, no. That will not do. I need you to be like this.” He
pulled me up by my armpits until I sat propped upright against the pillows. I
tensed, ready to kick him the first chance I had.

He anticipated and said, “Do not do anything ill conceived, or I
will be forced to confine you to the bed.”

If I was tied to the bed, I couldn’t run. I hated him and hated
this situation, but for now, all I could do was glare while he fussed with my
hair. Satisfied everything was placed how he wanted, he trailed one thin finger
down my cheek and I flinched when he went so far as to caress the outside of my
breast.

I twisted away at the touch. He hauled me back into a sitting
position.

“Do not make me hurt you,” he admonished in his whiny, nasal voice.
“I do not
want
to hurt you. I love you. All I have ever wanted was to touch
you. You never let me touch you like you let
him
.”

And you never will, you sicko
. I wished I could
telepathically tell this pathetic piece of garbage how much I loathed him. The
bed dipped when he sat beside me, his hip touching mine. He skimmed his hand
across my belly, moving upward and I sucked air in through my nose when he
cupped my breast through the tee shirt and bra.

“This will not do. I need to feel your skin.”

He slid off the bed, rummaged through his suitcase again and with a
flourish, brought out a huge carving knife.

A sick smile twisted his face as he came back toward the bed. “This
will do the job. Please do not move. I would not want to accidentally mar your
beautiful skin while I remove your articles of clothing.”

I began to hyperventilate and couldn’t drag in enough air through
my nostrils. My clothing had become the least of my worries. Why would he be
carrying around such a huge knife? Regis approached the bed and craziness shone
through his beady little eyes. Why hadn’t I told Tank I loved him? I didn’t
want to die with that being my last thought.

****

As he tore up the highway in the same direction he’d seen the truck
traveling, Tank looked down every side road and checked parking lots of diners,
hotels, and motels. The longer it took to find them, the harder it would
become. Sunset was only an hour off and then, in the dark, it’d be like finding
a needle in the proverbial haystack.

He could put out an A.P.B., but he all he had was a vague
description of an older model, white truck with one headlight missing.
Screeching to a halt, he swerved around and sped into the parking lot of the Lazy
Daze Motel.

The very last parking spot, beside a minivan, held a truck that
looked a lot like the one he’d passed. Tank hid his bike behind the motel’s
dumpster and approached the door directly opposite the parked vehicle. The
lights were on in the room, but everything was silent, not even the background
noise of a television filtered out. There was no way of knowing if Regis was in
there with Shelby, although this was the most logical room for them to be. No
one would see him drag a person in, as it was at the end of a very long row of
rooms.

He stopped. A man’s voice could be heard talking in the room.
Sounded like Regis. He hesitated until he heard a loud thump and the man screamed.
“I said do not move! You did not have my permission to move!”

Tank didn’t wait another second. With a well-placed kick, the door blew
open and in one sweeping glance he saw Shelby rolling off the bed onto the
floor, her mouth taped and hands tied behind her back. When Regis swiveled
toward the door, Tank saw the carving knife in his hand.

Time slowed as Tank feinted left, then rolled right, reaching for the
gun tucked in the back waistband of his jeans. As Regis moved to his right,
falling for Tank’s fake out, Tank pulled out the gun and squeezed the trigger.

Regis halted and the knife clattered to the floor. His expression
registered surprise as he looked down at his chest. At first there was nothing
but a tiny hold, then a dark red stain spread across his sweater vest. It only
took seconds, but he looked back at Tank, sank to his knees and crumpled to the
ground.

Tank kept the gun trained on Regis while he kicked the knife away
from the now lifeless hand. When he was sure Regis was dead, he rushed to
Shelby who was still trying to kick away from Regis. Her tee shirt was cut down
the middle and one bra strap had been sliced through.

Tank picked her up, sat on the bed with her in his lap and cradled
her.

“I couldn’t lose you again.” He said, rocking them both. He wouldn’t
let go, ever. If he had his way, she’d never be out of his sight again.

Shelby wiggled until he looked down at her. Big blue eyes stared up
at him, over the industrial green tape covering her mouth.

“I forgot about the duct tape. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He peeled
back the tape, wincing with her as bits of skin came off with it. “Oh baby. I’m
so sorry.”

“My hands,” Shelby croaked.

****

Hours later, after police and E.M.S. had cleared us, Tank and I
watched the ambulance drive away with the body of Regis. Even with a warm
woolen blanket covering me, I couldn’t stop the shivers rippling through my
body. That would have been me if Tank hadn’t arrived when he did. Tank must
have seen me shaking, because he drew me against his chest and rubbed my back
with long, soothing strokes until the shivers abated.

I turned into his shoulder and tears pricked the back of my eyes. Too
much had happened. My coping mechanism was shutting down. How many shocks can a
body take anyway? I’d almost been kidnapped by Big Boss. Regis tried to blow my
head off and then the sick pervert chloroformed me and who knew what he’d have
done if Tank had been even one minute later. Visions of the lighter fluid had
my imagination racing.

“Take me home.” I mumbled into his chest.

“Polly’s offered to drive you back to her place.”

Polly had arrived shortly after the police. We all agreed I shouldn’t
be alone tonight, as I couldn’t stop shaking and was continually on the verge
of tears. But, when I realized I could have died and hadn’t told Tank I loved
him, I needed to be with only him.

“No. Just you and me.”

Tank pulled me in tighter. “Back to our place?”

I nodded my head, burrowing deeper into his chest. If I could crawl
inside his skin, I would. I needed to be close to him.

“Anything you want darlin’, I’d give you the moon if you asked.”

If I squeezed any harder, I’d crack his ribs.

*****

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight when we finally
stepped through the front door of our house. Polly insisted Tank use her car
and fluttered big green eyes at a cute young trooper who jumped at the chance
to drive her home.

It was surreal. My purse, keys, and car were back on the road to
the lake and Tank’s bike was at the motel. But all that didn’t matter. We were
alive and at our bedroom door. Now would be a good time to tell Tank I loved
him.

Resolved to speak the words no matter what, I turned and froze. His
face grim, he stalked toward me. Recognizing that dangerous glint in his eyes,
I backed into the bedroom.

“Do you—?” I gulped, “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“This is the best idea I’ve had in months.”

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, noting that I
sounded excited and breathy. No small wonder. If he didn’t tear my borrowed
clothes off, I’d to do it for him.

“I almost lost you.”

“But, you didn’t. I’m here, and I’m safe.”

“Shelby, if I don’t make love to you, right here, right now, I’ll
go out of my mind.” He stopped inches from me. “I can’t be gentle. I need you
too bad to be nice.”

I needed him as much as he needed me, if not more, so I reached up
and pulled him down to kiss me.

*****

After what seemed like hours we cuddled beneath the duvet.

“Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse in my ear.

“Yes, but I don’t think I could handle that again.”

He chuckled and pinned me against his chest when I would have rolled
away.

“You know I never would have left if I didn’t think it was the
right thing to do?”

A small part of me knew what he said was true, but I couldn’t let
go of the fact he hadn’t trusted me with his secret. Down the road, if
something else with his job threatened us, would he leave again? How could I
know that he was in this marriage all the way?

“Tank, what if—”

He placed his index finger across my lips.

“No what ifs. You never have to worry ever again. Nothing and
nobody will take me away from you. Ever.”

He propped up on his elbow and gazed down at me. With tender fingers
he brushed the hair off my forehead and kissed the scar above my eyebrow. Firm
lips moved down the side of my face and paused near the pulse beating at the
base of my neck.

“We’ve done hard and fast. How about soft and slow?” Desire
thickened his voice.