An Impostor in Town (Colorado Series) (8 page)

“You know, if you’d just left it alone, we could have assumed it was just the moonlight and laughed about it later. Now it’s turned into some big deal.” Now she couldn’t believe she was saying what she was saying. The ridiculousness of her statements hit her hard, and she almost laughed aloud. Hysteria knocked on the door of her sanity.

“
You
turned it into a big deal.”

That did it—hysteria over now, ego in charge. Huge drops welled in her eyes. The argument was more than she could bear. “Just because you had the audacity to kiss me and just because I was foolish enough to let you doesn’t mean it has to mean anything.” Her sad attempt to convey her tangled thoughts came out jumbled and pathetic.

“You made it pretty clear we were just friends.
You
said this wasn’t a date…I guess I got carried away.”

“Oh,” she muttered. She wanted a different answer. She wanted what she couldn’t have.

He hit her with another question she never expected. “Why do you push me away?” She didn’t answer him. “I want an answer.” His hurt feelings landed all over her.

“I can’t get involved with you or anyone else.” He had opened the door. Now she could tell him about Mason, Jeff, and Cory. The truth was almost out of her mouth.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m married. At least, I think I might be.”

“You
might
be? How can you not
know
something like that?” His voice rippled with suppressed emotion, controlled to the point it scared her.

“I ran away from him over twelve years ago. He could have divorced me and I wouldn’t know it.”

“Why did you run?” His skepticism nearly killed her. He wasn’t ready to believe her. She could see his respect for her draining away. That hurt more than anything.

“Because he was abusive. I would have died if I hadn’t run. He told me if I ran away again, he’d kill me.” A sob caught in her throat as she clutched at the last remnants of his respect. “But I ran anyway, because I knew if he kept beating me the way he was he’d end up killing me and my...”

She stopped short of telling him the full extent of Mason’s threats. She had been much more frightened of what Mason threatened to do to Jake. A fear deep within her demanded she put on the brakes...
now
. She didn’t want to tell Brian about Jake…not just yet. That meant she couldn’t tell him about Jeff.

He pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and sat motionless for what seemed like forever. She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to talk. Afraid to breathe.

“I certainly have a penchant for getting involved with married women.”

She didn’t know how to respond. She could say nothing that would make it better. She had let it happen.

He would insist on knowing everything now. She held her breath and waited for him to ask another question, but he never did. Maybe he didn’t really want to know. Maybe his concern had all been superficial. Was Brian any different than anybody else?

After an interminably long silence, he finished the drive to her house, walked her to her door, and turned his back on her.

****

As soon as the door closed, Jeff jerked Peyton’s arm behind her back and clamped a sweaty palm across her mouth, cutting off the scream that rose in her throat. She groaned at the sudden, sharp pain radiating down her arm toward her elbow and tossed her head, trying to dislodge his hand from her mouth. His cheek pressed against hers. His beer breath invaded her sinuses—his mouth so close to her nose nausea rose in her already overwrought stomach. “One little noise and I’ll yank it right out of the socket.”

She whimpered as he dragged her to the window. The blinds were open just enough to see Brian head toward his truck and then stop, turn back to the house. Jeff sucked in a raspy breath. “What’s he coming back for?” She tried to tear away from his grip, but he pulled her arm tighter. Her stomach roiled. He played with the wall switch until he turned the outside light off. “He’s gone.”

He loosened her arm just enough she slid from his grasp. “What are you doing here?”

“I need money.” The unmistakable demand of desperation edged his voice. Who did he owe?

“I told you I’m tapped out.” She glanced at the door behind him. He was blocking her escape. Then she remembered the gun in her coat pocket. If she could reach the weapon, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it this time.

He shook his head as if trying to shake the muck out. “So maybe you’re tapped out, but I know someone who’ll give it to me. Getting it from her won’t be easy, but…I’ll just make her.” She kept quiet, not wanting to encourage him. “You want to know who I’m going to get it from?” He grinned with evil intent. “Carol.” He stepped closer. “Typical woman. She took the money and ran, but I found her. I’ve got to get to her before he does.”

She had to keep him talking, keep him inching toward the closet and the gun. “He? He who?”

“You know what he’s been doing? He’s been pretending to be me. Got a job with that guy from Virginia.”

“Who are you talking about? What guy from Virginia?”

“He’s a foreman for that guy we stole the money from. I’m the one with construction experience, but he’s the one out at the resort pretending to know what he’s doing. Isn’t that a hoot?” He shifted mental gears without warning. “Cory knows she’s here. He’s been watching her.” He caught her by the wrist. “I need to distract him, and you’re going to be the bait.” He pulled her across the living room and away from the door.

She dug her fingers into the flesh of his upper arm, and he released his grip. “I won’t help you.” The quaking in her insides belied her false bravado. She put a few paces between them.

“If you don’t, I’ll tell Cory where his son is.”

The threat had its effect. She lunged toward him. He dodged. He wrapped his fingers around her forearms and threw her against the wall. She slid to the floor before the room fuzzed and her vision went dark.

****

Jeff woke Peyton with a kick to her abdomen. She winced and opened her eyes. The morning light shot stabbing fingers through the partially open curtains and blinded her. How long had she been out?

“Get up.” He jerked her from the floor, nearly dislocating her shoulder. “We’re taking a little road trip.” His speech slurred, the telltale sign of a bad hangover. Red shot his eyes as if someone gouged them with a stick. “We’re going to go visit Cory.”

“No.” She tried to back away, but his hand pinched the flesh around her elbow.

“Move.” He shoved her toward the door, jamming her already throbbing arm into the socket.

“It’s cold. Can I at least get my coat?” Her teeth chattered on cue. The moron hadn’t turned the heat on in the house. He stared at her for a second and then released his grip. She made haste to get the coat, but before she could pull the gun from its hiding place, he grabbed her by the wrist.

His eyes glittered with hatred as he spun her around and shoved her out the kitchen door, then pushed her into the driver’s seat of her car. “Scoot over. I’m driving.” She scrambled over the center console and pounced on the passenger door lock. He pressed the barrel of the gun against the back of her head. “Don’t even think about it.” He lowered the weapon when she settled into her seat.

He remained quiet while he drove toward the city limits, his knuckles white where he gripped the steering wheel. His erratic driving produced spasms in her shaky stomach.

She waited until they were out of town to start her mental campaign. “You’re just like your father.”

His hand jerked, causing him to veer the car across the centerline. An oncoming truck honked at them. He ignored the warning, barely missing the other vehicle. He shook his finger in her face, looking at her instead of the road. “I am not like my father.”

“You can’t get a woman to do what you want willingly, can you?” She baited him, playing a dangerous game. She wanted him mad enough to do something stupid.

“Shut up.”

“Carol ditched you, didn’t she? Did you beat her? Did she run away from you just like I ran away from your father?” Hate for his father was a strong stimulus for Jeff. Peyton stomped on it.

“She deserved it just as much as you did.”

“You’re not much of a man.” She bit at him, intending to tear into ego. She wanted the wound to go deep, as deep as the wounds he had inflicted on her.

“I said shut up.” He raised his hand to strike her. She pressed against the passenger door. He missed and swore, flexing his fingers.

“I think you’re lying. You’ve never been a good liar.”

“Lying? About what?” Once again, he turned his attention from the road.

“Cory isn’t here. If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.”

“Oh, baby. That’s priceless. You’re scared. You’re plenty scared.” He cackled. “You’re scared of Cory.” She shoved him hard. The car swerved. “Stop that.” She shoved him again. He swung at her. “Stop that,” he yelled again.

“Make me.”

He grabbed her by her shirt. “I told you to shut up.”

She relaxed, and he released his grip. Maybe she should gather her strength for a more opportune moment. Her wounds pestered her. She was sore all over. Dying would have been a relief, but she refused to give in without a fight. She wouldn’t go easy.

Just outside of town, he turned off the highway and drove down a dirt track overgrown with weeds between the tire ruts. After a couple of miles, he drove her car into a stand of pines where another car was hidden. She fumbled with the door lock, but her actions had slowed and she wasn’t fast enough to make a break for it. He yanked her out of her car and punched her hard in the gut. She bent over double and then fell. Before he pulled her from the ground and pushed her into the new car, he rummaged in the trunk and then bound her wrists behind her back with duct tape. Apparently, he didn’t want her shoving him again. Back on the highway, he flew past Hermosa, heading into the mountains toward Purgatory and Durango Mountain Resort.

Didn’t he say Cory was at the lift work site pretending to be Jeff? She couldn’t let Jeff get to the ski area. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She braced her back on the door and kicked him hard with both feet. He lost his grip on the steering wheel and grabbed his side. The car veered toward the edge of the road. Below gushed a roaring creek. A long drop if the car tumbled over the side.

He regained control and stopped on the shoulder, jumped from the vehicle, and yanked her out the door before she could react. She nearly fell to her knees.

She used her weight to her advantage, making him drag her toward the woods along the road. “You’re just like your father. You take things, use them up, and then toss them aside. No wonder Carol ditched you. You probably couldn’t give her what she wanted. You’re a worthless piece of trash.”

“You married a man old enough to be your grandfather. What does that make you? All you wanted was the old man’s money.”

“His money? Are you crazy? No amount of money would ever be worth living with your family. You’re all sick.” She spat her contempt at him and his family. “I tried to kill myself because of him.”

“Don’t ever call me crazy.” He spun her around and used a knife to slit the tape that bound her wrists, nicking her in the process.

She rubbed the throbbing pain and turned toward him, never letting her eyes stray from his. “You won’t take me to Cory. He wants a piece of you as bad as he wants a piece of me. Go ahead. Take me to Cory. He’ll destroy you.”

Her desperate taunt got his attention. He raised his fist. She threw up her hands to ward off another blow. “Please don’t do that! I’ll get the money somehow. I promise.”

A vein pulsed in Jeff’s neck. He worked his jaw muscles. Maybe she had finally pushed him beyond his limited patience—beyond what his fractured ego could handle. His eyes leaked venom. Blow after blow landed on her neck, shoulders, and arms. “I want the money now!”

She stumbled. Something hard bumped against her thigh. The gun. She had forgotten about it. Why hadn’t she pulled it on him sooner? Was it still in her coat? Of course, it was. She jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out the weapon. “Get away from me.” Her voice was as shaky as her trigger finger.

He laughed without mirth. “Give me the gun.” He wiggled his fingers and advanced a step closer.

“Don’t come any closer.” She shook the gun at him. “Toss me your keys.”

He stopped, keeping his eyes on the weapon and slung her taunt back at her. “Make me.”

“I’m warning you.” Her voice quavered.

His leg swung upward and knocked the gun from her grasp. It skittered across the pavement and disappeared into the brush along the road. She gasped and grabbed her injured wrist, horrified at losing her thin advantage.

He laid the back of his hand across her mouth. She crumpled to the ground, and he fell on top of her. Her eyes focused on a large rock nearby. It was her last hope. She pushed him off with her last ounce of strength. The rock landed on his head with a loud crack. She lifted it again, but there was no point. Jeff wasn’t moving.

She scrambled to stand and kicked him hard in the side. He groaned, but made no move to fight back. Tears poured from her eyes. Thank God, she hadn’t killed him. She didn’t want him to die. She just wanted him to leave her alone. She knelt and felt his pulse. It was still there, pounding from his exertions. The wind whipped her hair across her face. She pushed it back. She had to find his keys. She had to get out of there.

She patted his pockets. The bile rose in her throat just from touching the man. His eyes blinked and he glared up at her. He apparently had an endless supply of malice. She pulled his keys from his pants pocket and stared at them in fascination. His keys represented freedom. With them she could run, just like she’d always done.

Once inside the car, she jammed the key into the ignition, but the stubborn car wouldn’t start. She cranked the engine repeatedly, hearing the telltale whir of the starter. Finally the horrible moment was over and the motor revved to life. With one look backward she drove away.