Killing Secrets (2 page)

Not if she had anything to say about it!

“Confronting the Devil is hard, child,” Katy said, “but I wish you wouldn’t run away. You said it yourself. He won’t expect to find you here.”

Rachel was startled to have her own words thrown back at her. When she ran home to Dallas after Greg was hauled off to jail, she’d had to convince Katy to let her take care of her. The sixty-year-old woman was too fragile from her heart attack and she was the closest thing Rachel had to a mother since she was a child. She’d been without a parent altogether after her father walked out of her life ten years ago. Katy was family. She loved her.

She also owed her. It was Rachel’s fault Greg got close enough to the older woman to decimate her livelihood, along with the others he’d conned across two states. The authorities had only found a small portion of the money he’d scammed, so her friend might yet be forced to sell off a chunk of her family’s homestead. She’d lost so much already.

It broke Rachel’s heart that she couldn’t stay to fix everything. “I have to go, Katy. I’m sorry.”

Katy thunked her cane on the floor again. “Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re being paranoid and he’s not coming at all?”

Her frustration palpable—they’d argued her decision to leave since the D.A.’s call—she reminded herself that Katy wasn’t in San Francisco in those days before Greg’s arrest. She hadn’t seen the obsessive rage in his eyes when he’d beaten Rachel before trying to escape prosecution. Her friend was in an ICU ward fighting for her life after a heart attack provoked by Greg’s con. Another charge to throw at his feet.

Rachel’s laugh came out rusty. “He’s coming. Take my word for it.” Hurrying across the room to the battered sideboard that served as her dresser, she grabbed her mama’s silver mirror, comb and brush set. She carefully rolled the precious items in a wad of white cotton panties in one corner of the suitcase.

Katy pushed the bag out of reach and perched on the side of the daybed. She patted the cleared space beside her. “Sit, child. I get that you’re spooked. But you can’t let it gnaw at your soul like snails on a lettuce patch. You’re not alone any more. Let me help.”

Too antsy to sit, she paced the long, narrow room instead. Twelve steps to the front door in the kitchenette. Twelve in the opposite direction to the hallway. “I’m supposed to take care of you, Katy, not the other way around.”

“Bah! You’ve spent the past six months nursing me back to health. You’ve worked yourself to the bone from dawn to dusk to single-handedly save Kolthern Nurseries. Stop beating yourself up for what that no good, no account polecat did to me. We were both fooled, girl. None of this is your fault.” She grabbed Rachel’s hand as she passed, stopped her in her tracks. “Rachel, you’re the daughter Henry and I could never have. Please let me do something. I’ll never forgive myself if you and Amanda gets hurt again.”

As she hugged the other woman, tears threatened to slide down Rachel’s cheeks. She’d not heard such a declaration of love from anyone since she was ten years old and her mama died. Except from Amanda. But her daughter, tucked in the single bedroom down the hall, didn’t tell Rachel she loved her anymore. She didn’t speak at all. Not since the horrible night her daddy almost killed her mama.

Rachel walked to the open window where the cool breeze fluttered the muslin curtains she’d made late one night in a fit of sleeplessness. She craned to hear the Kolthern cattle lowing in the field a quarter of a mile away. Rain-washed essences drifted from the family herb garden situated by the back porch near the big house. She inhaled the aroma-rich air, redolent with blossoming honeysuckle and freshly turned garden soil, hoping to gather enough memories to give her strength to do what she knew was necessary.

She’d gotten a lot of practice leaving her life behind thanks to her nomadic father but this was different. This had become her
home! “We were supposed to be set free the day Greg went to jail,” she whispered.

Katy heard her. “He should rot for an eternity for what he did to the two of you, honey.”

There was no arguing that point. Katy was the only one in Dallas who knew Greg as more than a consummate con artist. Her friend had seen the scars he’d whipped into Rachel’s belly and back. That one fit of rage would haunt her forever. However, the last thing she wanted to think about was the brutal end of her sham marriage. Her daughter needed her mama to be strong.

With the trial, she’d hoped to remove Amanda from her father’s sphere of influence before he could hurt her, too. They hadn’t escaped soon enough. Amanda didn’t carry her mother’s physical scars. She’d buried her wounds inside a prison of silence. The physical pain Rachel carried out of her bedroom six months ago was nothing to the agonizing grief she’d experienced when she discovered her four-year-old daughter in the hall curled into a ball around her new baby doll.

Guilt tore at her conscience. Her poor daughter must have heard everything through those closed doors. She suspected Greg said something to the child before he left them alone in the house, too. Amanda wasn’t saying. PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, according to the specialist Rachel found upon their arrival in Dallas. The label didn’t matter. Her little girl was hurting and she required more than a handful of sessions with the therapist to break through her trauma.

They’d run out of time.

She placed a protective hand over her stomach. The noose Greg held around Rachel’s neck for so long had loosened these past months of freedom, but he still had the power to yank her back. All he had to do was get his hands on Amanda again.

“What I don’t understand, Rachel,” Katy said, dragging her away from her dark thoughts, “is why you’re suddenly tearing up the roots you’ve planted here. You have friends who can help you stand up to Greg. Your great-aunt’s estate will be finalized in a few months, no matter what your mother’s family tries to do to break the will. You’ll have all the money you need to surround yourself and Amanda with the best security money can buy. What aren’t you telling me?”

The temptation to tell the truth was overwhelming. Her friend was amazingly adept at picking at a problem until it unraveled into an untidy little mess, and Rachel had revealed a lot to Katy since her return to Dallas. God help her, she didn’t dare trust anyone with
this
secret. All she’d ever wanted was the little girl sleeping in the other room. She couldn’t lose her!

“Rachel?”

She looked her friend straight in the eye and lied. “There’s nothing to tell. I just can’t take the chance Greg will come here.”

“Let him come! You and Amanda can move back into the main house with me. I’ll get half a dozen guard dogs. We’ve got an army of employees between the greenhouses and the nurseries to make sure you’re never alone. I can—”

“Stop! Please, Katy…just stop.” Sick at heart, Rachel went to the dresser for a few last items to tuck into her bag. “Don’t you see? You and Amanda are the only family I have left. If I’m not here, maybe Greg will leave you alone.

“I’m not certain what he’ll do, though, and that worries me. If you weren’t going to your brother’s dude ranch, I’d be dragging you with me. I’ll rest easier knowing you’re safe in Abilene helping him get ready for his next batch of guests.” She smoothed away another tear at the thought of leaving Katy. “As soon as I find somewhere safe to hole up, I’ll call so you won’t worry.”

“Child, I’ll always worry about the two of you. It’s what family does, blood kin or not.” Tears running freely down her weathered cheeks, Katy stared at her a long time before rising slowly to her feet. She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out several sheets of paper.

Rachel skimmed through the documents thrust into her hand and found two airline e-tickets made out for herself and Amanda, a car leasing agreement, and detailed driving directions that outlined a direct path from Denver International Airport to an address somewhere in the sprawling city. At the bottom of the stack was an envelope addressed to Mrs. Evelyn Thorne. “What is all this?”

“A place to hole up. Evelyn and I were in sorority together. She’s one of my best friends. Even better, Greg knows nothing about her. I confirmed everything with her last night. She and her husband, Ross, are expecting you. They’re heading out of the country for a few weeks, but you’ll be safe at their place with their five strappin’ boys protecting you until you can come home.”

Rachel thought her heart might break when she saw the resignation shadow Katy’s expression. Neither would say it, but they were both aware they might never see each other again. Not for the first time she thought of staying, of fighting for her life. For Amanda’s. But it was too risky. She was too scared of losing everything that mattered to her. “Katy. I-I—”

“I love you, too.” Katy smiled brightly through her tears and reached up to pat her cheek. “Okay, let’s get you on that plane before I go with my impulse to lock you and Amanda in the potting shed so I can watch over you myself. I’m too danged eager to pull Henry’s shotgun off the mantle rack and shoot me some polecat!”

~~~

“Rachel’s never going to forgive me for manipulating her like this,” Katy said several hours later, jockeying her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder. She pulled a pair of worn jeans from the suitcase the girl lovingly packed for her and jammed them back in the dresser drawer. “I hated lying to her about going to Abilene.” Regret chewed on her conscience. “You’d think I’d be used to that. I’ve been lying to her one way or another since the day we met, haven’t I?”

“It was necessary,” the man on the other end of the phone line assured her. “That girl’s just stubborn enough to jump in front of a charging bull if it means protecting someone she loves. She loves you. She’ll forgive you anything.”

Katy heard the pain lining his gravelly voice and knew the ache was as much emotional as physical. She wasn’t so sure he was right. Rachel hadn’t forgiven her own father in the past ten years. “Tell her why you left, Dixon,” she said. “Just give her a chance and tell her the truth.”

“It’s too late. I made my bed.” He coughed a snort of self-deprecating laughter into her ear. “Now, I’m sleeping in it.”

“But don’t you think—”

“Let it ride.” A heavy sigh revealed his weariness. “I only called to make sure she’s on her way to Denver.”

She looked up at the ceiling and cursed the stubborn man. The acorn hadn’t fallen very far from
that
tree! The only person more stubborn than Dixon and his daughter was Rachel’s mama, Katy’s best friend. Criminy, but she still missed her! “Rachel and Amanda will be tucked away at Evelyn’s this afternoon.” It would be a serious test of their friendship if Katy told him about her attempts to talk Rachel out of leaving Dallas. She hadn’t succeeded, so it didn’t matter.

“You’re a good woman, Katy. I’m sorry, well, I’m sorry about a lot of things.” A coughing fit took all of his air. When he spoke again, his voice was raspier. “You’re sure you’ll be okay if that ex-husband of hers shows up? If you won’t let me hire someone to protect you, maybe you
should
go to your brother’s for a couple of weeks. Just until we see which way this snake is going to break once he’s set free.”

Anticipation rose in Katy’s breast. “Just let him step one foot on my property. Henry’s shotgun hasn’t had a real challenge since the last time you two went duck hunting.” It had been only days after that hunting trip she’d lost Henry to a massive heart attack. Her loss was as fresh today as it had been fifteen years ago when this man helped her to lay her husband to rest.

“Be careful. You know what he’s capable of.”

She knew, all right. As did Dixon. Rachel would be devastated if she knew Katy had told her father everything Greg had done to her, hoping the revelation might make him reach out to his daughter at last. It hadn’t. “When Rachel gets to Denver, call her. You have the numbers. Some secrets aren’t good for anyone. You need her as much as she needs you. They
both
need you.”

Silence met her suggestion. Then, it was broken. “It’s not time yet,” he said before the phone line went dead.

Chapter Two

Denver, Colorado.

“Tell me again why I filed another police report if Denver’s finest are going to sit on their collective asses and do nothing. Are you guys re-papering the men’s room with my complaints in triplicate?” Patrick Thorne glared across his kitchen at Detective Jack Montgomery, irritated enough to push one of his foster brother’s hot buttons.

“We ran out of toilet paper.” Jack’s green eyes flashed. He poured a cup of black coffee, then leaned back on the counter and studied him. “What do you want me to say? You filed the report five hours ago. You think we’ve got nothing better to do than send everyone out on a vandalism report?”

Patrick snorted. “Vandalism is spray paint and tagging. Vandalism is pouring sugar into gas tanks. Tearing through entire floors of sheet rock with a claw hammer like a possessed maniac is sabotage,” he argued. “This isn’t an isolated incident, and the attacks are getting vicious. I’m being specifically targeted.”

“By whom?”

“If I knew that I’d take care of the bastard myself!” Gritting his teeth, he stalked out of the kitchen down the hall to his office at the back of the house.

Jack followed, setting his coffee down on Patrick’s desk when he sat in front of him. “I may agree with the sentiment, Patrick,” Jack said, “but start talking about taking the law into your own hands and we’re done here. You can’t go off half-cocked and threaten retribution in front of me. I’d have to toss your sorry ass in jail. Then, Mom would lop off my dick and, damn it, I’m getting married next month!”