Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #2 (13 page)

Relieved to have something to do, Tonya got to work. As she filled the last glass, the door opened and Seth's brother stepped inside.

Tonya's gaze flew to Clay's and the grim look on the sheriff's face didn't reassure her. “He got away,” she said.

“He got away.”

THIRTEEN

S
eth's fingers curled against his palms. He wanted to hit something. Preferably Hank Newman's face. Clay pulled out a chair and took a seat. Seth and Tonya did, too. “Hi, Mom,” Clay said.

“Hello, dear. Tea?”

“Please. A big glass, thanks. Where's Dad?”

“Out in the barn cleaning out two empty stalls. He's got a fellow who wants to board his horses and is bringing them by later tonight. Aaron promised to drop by and give them a checkup, so I'm going to do a pot roast. Bring Sabrina and the kids around six.”

She poured three glasses of tea and set them on the table in front of Clay, Seth and Tonya. After a long swig, Clay placed the glass on the coaster. “That sounds good—thank you. We'll be here.” He looked at Tonya. “Okay, here's the latest...” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “I got a report on your guy Hank Newman.”

“Tell me.” She leaned forward. Seth shifted beside her and placed his arm across the back of her chair.

“Hank's been out of prison for a while, as you know. But a couple of weeks ago he showed up at a woman's house and roughed her up pretty good.” He frowned. “Apparently they'd been an item shortly after he started his job with his brother. She called the police after the altercation took place, but Hank was gone by the time they got there. Hank showed up for work the next day, and when the police questioned him, he had his story ready. They let it go.”

“Shocker,” Tonya muttered. Seth silently agreed. He knew the police sometimes had their hands tied when it came to “he said” and “she said” testimony.

Clay nodded. “He supposedly took off for the conference, but we double-checked again, and while his badge and packet were picked up, no one can actually say that they've seen him since. So...as of this moment, no one knows where he is—”

Tonya snorted. “I do. He's just told us he's in Wrangler's Corner.”

Clay nodded again. “I believe you. We have a crime scene unit from Nashville out there scouring the woods, looking for bullet casings. We found one. When we catch Hank and examine his weapon, if it matches, he's going down for attempted murder.”

Tonya stood. “I just don't understand how he found us so fast.” She looked at Seth then Clay. “You followed us. No one else did. And yet two days later, Hank Newman is shooting at us.”

“Someone told him where to find you,” Seth said.

“We talked about that, but I still don't know who it could have been.” She paused and rubbed her forehead.

“The fact that this guy has come onto a property he's not familiar with and tried to shoot you...” Clay shrugged. “That tells me a lot about his personality.”

“It's strange,” Tonya said.

“What?” Seth asked.

“That's just
not
his personality. It's not like Hank to take that kind of risk.”

“Really,” Clay said, his eyes glinting with interest. “What would you have expected him to do?”

“Well, for starters, he would scope the place out for a couple of days, get routines, note who was on the ranch and where and at what time. For him to come out here without doing that is...strange.” Her agitation was almost a physical thing. Seth grasped her hand and squeezed. She relaxed a fraction. “I mean, he'd probably been following me for the last couple of rodeos before he let me know he was there. So for him to do anything not planned—” She sighed. “It's just not like him.”

Clay lifted a brow. “Well, then it might not
be
him.” He shifted and took another swig of his tea. “I think we're looking at this wrong. I want to know how Hank found you here, yes—if it's him—but what I really want to know is how he found you in the first place. How did he know to show up at the rodeo?”

Tonya sat back down, but Seth could still feel the tension emanating from her. “I've been racking my brain trying to figure that out, but I honestly don't know.”

“I'm telling you, someone
had
to tell him,” Seth insisted.

“All right.” Clay nodded. “Then who?” His question was directed at Tonya. “Go through the list of people who knew you were working the rodeo that Hank would have access to.”

She bit her lip. “No one.” She paused. “Except Grant, my brother, and maybe the US marshal who helped me run. Neither one of them would tell Hank where I was.”

Seth heard the question at the end of her sentence. “You don't sound so sure.”

“I... I'm sure.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I mean maybe.”

“Come on, Tonya,” Clay pushed, his tone intense and just a bit brusque. “I want to help you, but I need all the facts.”

“The only family member who might be coerced—um...bribed—to tell Hank where I am is my brother Jacob, but he wouldn't have any idea where I was. Unless Grant told him, and I don't see that happening.”

“Grant could have the information somewhere and Jacob found it—or was bribed to find it,” Seth interjected. “But why him?”

“He has...
had
...a drug problem. Hank knew this because it was all happening when he and I first went out. Jacob showed up at my dorm room demanding money for a hit. I had a hard time getting rid of him, but he finally left after I threatened to call security. Hank was there for the show.” Shame flashed in her eyes for a brief moment. Then her jaw jutted out. “I just can't believe that Jacob would do that, but then again, he did a lot of things during those dark days that I wouldn't have believed him capable of.”

“Junkies are capable of just about anything,” Clay said grimly. His phone beeped, but he didn't look away from her.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “But he's my brother and I love him. It's hard to acknowledge those things.” She sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. “But truly, I don't think he would even know how to find me. Grant's the one who got me all of my documents and did the name change. He wouldn't even tell my mother where I was, so I'm sure he didn't tell Jacob.”

“Well, someone figured it out because it sounds like Hank had to have had help finding you. If that's the case, Jacob seems a reasonable suspect.” Seth reached over and clasped her hand and looked at Clay. “So what's next?”

“I'm posting more security around the ranch. The workers have been warned about stopping strangers. I'm also going to pass Hank's picture around town and tell people to stay on the lookout for him and report him if they see him. It's a small town. If he's here, someone will spot him.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. “I'll also do a discreet search into Jacob's bank accounts and see if he's deposited any large amounts of cash lately.”

Seth sighed. “All right.” He looked at Tonya. “So you're going to be here for the rodeo. Have you thought about it long enough?”

“The rodeo?” Clay asked, eyeing him curiously. “The one here in Wrangler's Corner next weekend?”

“That's the one.”

Clay's frown deepened. “You thinking of riding?”

“Maybe. And I'm trying to talk Tonya into bull-fighting for it. We don't have another rodeo until after that one. And since I've ridden in the WC Rodeo for the last ten years, no reason I should miss this one.”

“No reason except riding too soon with an injured leg,” Clay scoffed.

Seth rolled his eyes. His brother's phone beeped again.

Ignoring Seth, Clay finally glanced down at his phone. Tapped the screen. “Well, well, I may have the video footage from the rodeo arena sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Wow. That was quick!” Tonya said. “How'd you manage that?”

Clay shrugged. “I worked in Nashville and have some good friends there. One of them is willing to share. And besides, if it turns out Hank's the one who put the bomb in that cannon, we'll be releasing footage of the video to the press so we can get the public looking for this guy.”

Seth nodded. Tonya bit her lip and let her gaze dart back and forth between him and Clay. Seth scooted closer and gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Are you up to watching some video footage tomorrow?”

She gave a slow nod. “I'm up to it.”

“Good. It's going to be all right.”

She gave another nod, but Seth couldn't tell if she believed him or not. He thought if he had to vote, he'd go with “not.”

FOURTEEN

M
onday afternoon, when they pulled into the parking lot of the police station, Tonya blew out a relieved breath. Finally, they were going to get some answers. She'd stayed awake almost all night, fearful that Hank would try to break into her trailer, but there'd been no sign of him.

That worried her even more. It meant he was thinking and planning.

She climbed out of the truck as Seth was rounding the bumper. He held the door for her and shut it when she was clear. Seth snagged her fingers and she felt the tension running through him. “It's going to be all right,” he whispered.

“Yes...” She gazed up at him, his good looks striking her extra hard. But more than that, his compassion and caring...and determination to keep her safe.

“You still don't believe me, do you?”

“I'm reserving judgment,” she hedged.

He glanced around and she followed his gaze. Clay and Ronnie were right behind them.

They entered the building and Tonya felt her shoulders relax. Every time she managed to get from one place to another without someone shooting at her or trying to grab her, it was a relief.

A sleepy Monday afternoon in Wrangler's Corner most likely didn't elicit much excitement, so when she entered, all eyes turned on her with raised brows and speculation. Much like her reception at the church.

Clay led them to the back room without a word to the receptionist or the other two deputies sharing an office just off the entrance.

Seth's brother opened the door to a nice-sized conference room and Tonya saw Lance seated at the table, his eyes glued to a computer screen.

“Lance, you find anything worth watching yet?” Clay asked.

Lance glanced up. His blue eyes landed on her for a brief moment, then moved to Seth and Clay. He nodded. “Hey, you got here just in time.” He was a big man and filled out his uniform in a way that most people might find intimidating, but Tonya thought she could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. He motioned them closer, picked up a remote and brought the images on the computer into mega size thanks to the large screen on the wall. “I decided to start going through the footage based on the date and time of the incidents you described to try and save us all some time. I'll show you the clips and you can tell us what you think. Have a seat.” He motioned to two chairs at his left.

Tonya settled into one. Seth pulled one of the chairs from the stack against the wall and placed it next to the vacant chair beside Tonya. He dropped into the chair beside her and propped his leg up on the other. Clay took a seat near Lance at the conference table.

The deputy pressed Play and Tonya kept her gaze on the screen. People moved in the hallway outside her dressing room. A man in a black T-shirt and khaki pants walked past her door. “I can't see his face.”

“I know,” Lance said. “Just wait a second.” He clicked a few more keys on the computer and another clip came up. “This is the area outside the storage room where you said you hid.” The video started and she gasped when she saw herself bolt into view, open the door and disappear. Only a few seconds later, the man in a black T-shirt and khaki pants followed, his gaze moving back and forth, scanning the hall and the area around him. She clearly saw his face a split second before he twisted the knob, stepped inside the room and shut the door.

“That's him. That's Hank.”

“But that's not all. Look at this.” Lance clicked a few more keys and brought up the arena. The crowd milled. A lot of the seats were still empty. A figure moved toward the cannon, which was already set up.

The ball cap hid the man's features and he kept his head lowered, but the goatee flashed with one turn of his head. “He has on a staff uniform,” she breathed. “That's why he was able to move around so easy.”

“He didn't have that on when he went into the storage room,” Seth said, eyes narrowed.

“So he changed before he worked on the cannon.”

Seth ran a hand over his jaw and stared again. “Can you freeze the part that shows the uniform, then go back to the initial video and freeze it when I tell you?”

“Sure.” Lance clicked the appropriate keys.

“Now bring the two pictures up beside each other.”

Again Lance complied.

“Looks like the pants are the same and the black T-shirt possibly, but he has the gray staff shirt pulled on over it in this picture here,” Seth said, pointing to the image. “And a name badge with a lanyard.”

“So he could go out into the arena without anyone stopping him,” Tonya mused. “That's when he planted the bomb. But where did he get the shirt?”

“Good question.” Clay pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket. “I'll see if anyone reported a missing staff shirt.”

“And I'll put in a request to the FBI and see if they can use their equipment to enhance the badge and get a name,” Lance said.

“What about the video footage from the grocery store?” Tonya asked.

“I couldn't get any,” Clay said. “I talked to the owner and the camera hasn't been working for about a year now.”

Tonya sighed. Another headache was starting to form. “All right, so what now?”

Seth leaned toward her, taking her chin in a gentle grip. “We make sure you stay safe.”

“Seth's right, Tonya,” Clay said. “That's our top priority.” He checked his phone. “I asked to see the report on the bomb at the arena and my buddy came through.”

“What's it say?” Seth asked, releasing her and shifting his gaze to his brother.

“It was triggered to blow as soon as the mechanism was released to shoot her out of the cannon.”

“Meaning she never would have made it out of the cannon alive. It would have exploded with her in it.”

“Yes.”

Tonya shuddered and felt slightly sick. “I'm so tired of Hank Newman and the control he has over me!”

“Then we need to take that control away from him,” Seth said.

She frowned and glanced from man to man until she finally settled back on Clay. “How do you propose to do that?”

“We set another trap.”

* * *

It was Seth's turn to frown. “What kind of trap?” he asked. “And what would you use as bait? Because it's
not
going to be Tonya.” He stood, ignoring the ache in his leg.

Clay held up a hand. “Sit down, little brother. I'm not sure of all the details yet. Let me see if I can come up with a plan...” His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. The silence stretched until he finally said, “Yes, this trap will need bait and I'll need more officers than I have now, so I'll have to contact the department in Nashville, where I have some friends who would be willing to lend a hand.” He shook his head. “You guys need to lie low until we get this settled.”

“Wait a minute,” Seth said. “Church yesterday. What was that? A trap, too?”

Clay held up a hand again. “No, no, not at all. That was a show of force. I wanted Hank to see that he wasn't intimidating anyone—that we were here, we knew about him and we're ready for him. If he was watching, he got the message.”

“What if he had tried something? Like opening fire on the congregation or throwing a bomb into the church or—?”

Clay shook his head. “Maybe there was a slight risk to that, but I don't think so.”

“You don't
think
so? Our parents were there!”

Clay stared at him and Seth snapped his lips shut. He looked at Lance, who had his arms crossed, expression shuttered. Tonya's cheeks had darkened a deep red and her brows were drawn tight.

Clay narrowed his eyes. “I know that. And if I truly thought that any of our loved ones were in danger, I wouldn't have done it, but I've had some training, Seth.”

“Training in what?” If his leg hadn't been aching, he'd have gotten up and paced to work off his anger and frustration toward his brother.

“Profiling, little brother, profiling.”

Seth closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Tonya still hadn't said a word. “Okay. Explain. Please.”

Clay nodded. “Tonya, from your previous description of Hank, I suspect that he's a sociopathic narcissist. He thinks the world revolves around him. He has no regard for others or even authority, but he can be charming and convince everyone he's Mr. Nice Guy.”

“Yes, that's him,” Tonya whispered.

“These types of men don't usually form attachments, but they do like control. They also don't like rejection.”

“Which is why he fixated on me. I rejected him.”

“Yes, most likely,” Clay replied. “He wasn't used to that, had probably never had to deal with it. He's the baby in his family and, according to my report, was doted on and spoiled.”

She sighed and massaged her forehead. “But what about the fact that he shot at us in the woods? That was really out of character.”

Again Clay nodded. “That makes me wonder, but there's nothing that says psychopaths can't deviate from the textbook definition.”

“So there
could
have been some risk at the church.” Seth glared at his brother.

Clay sighed and exchanged a glance with Lance, who shrugged. “I suppose, but we had security so tight I believe the risk was minimal.” He spread his hands. “And nothing happened.”

Tonya's lower lip trembled and Seth thought he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. He ached to make this nightmare go away for her. He gripped her fingers. “It's—”

“I know—‘it's going to be all right.'” She flashed him a tremulous smile and Seth didn't take offense at her interruption. He smiled back.

“Now, the fact that your guy hasn't made a move since the shooting tells me he's probably regrouping, lying low, assessing, planning, thinking,” Lance said. “Clay and I've discussed this and we've had deputies asking around town about any new strangers or tourists.”

Seth frowned.

“Unfortunately,” Clay said, “it's summer and the rodeo next week is bringing people in by the busload. We've also been showing his picture to the locals and telling them to call if they see this guy. Nothing so far.”

Tonya nodded. “All right, then. What kind of trap did you have in mind?”

“It comes down to this... If Hank can't have you...then he wants to watch you die.”

She drew in a sharp breath and the color leached out of her face.

“Clay!” Seth shot his brother a lethal look. Even Lance had a frown on his face as he stared at his boss.

“Sorry, maybe I could have worded that better.” Clay held up a hand. “All I meant is the previous attempts on your life have been orchestrated in ways that would allow him to either physically kill you with his hands—by strangulation or shooting you—or in ways that are going to allow him to watch...i.e., the bomb in the cannon.” His lips thinned. “Do I think he cares if another innocent person gets hurt in the process? No. But he's not going to do anything unless he can participate or actually see you die.”

Tonya leaned back and Seth watched her process Clay's chilling words. She gave a slow nod, her face still pale. “You're right.”

“So now we need a plan,” Seth said. “And this time I want to know the details.”

Clay nodded, a hesitant nod, but at least he agreed. He stood. “Come on. I'll follow you two back to the ranch. I've got a couple of deputies who are patrolling it every couple of hours.”

“Have you gotten any information back about my brother?” Tonya asked. She bit her lip when Clay nodded once again and felt guilt swamp her for not stating she didn't want to know what he found. Then again, if he was innocent, the facts would defend him. If he was guilty...

Clay glanced at her as he sat back down. “That was the next thing on my agenda to talk to you about. I spoke to your older brother Grant. Told him what was going on.”

Tonya gasped in surprised relief. “You did?”

“Yes.”

“And Jacob?”

“Looks like he's cleaned up his act.”

A tear leaked down her cheek. “I'm so glad,” she whispered.

“He said there's no way Jacob could know where you were. Grant said he didn't have any kind of record of it in any computer or hard-copy file. Any information related to Tonya Lewis was erased so as not to leave a trail. And he said he wants to see you.”

“I want to see him, too.” She drew in a ragged breath. “Then it wasn't Jacob who led Hank to me.”

“No, doesn't look like it. It's got to be someone else.”

Tonya massaged her temples. “This is crazy. There
is
no one else.”

“Except the US marshal,” Seth reminded her. “She's the one who accessed the documents in the first place.”

Tonya shook her head. “She wouldn't give me away. And besides, I've moved around so much she would have no idea where to find me. And before you ask, she doesn't have my phone number to trace it. Only Grant does.”

Clay shrugged. “What about your friends at the rodeo? The one you seemed to be close to? Mia?”

Tonya frowned. “Mia knows about Hank. I told her over a year ago along with some of the other ladies who were sitting at the table.”

“What ladies?”

“A couple of barrel racers, Kelly and Sharon. Kelly was in an abusive relationship and wasn't sure what to do. I told her my story to convince her getting out was definitely the way to go but to be aware of stalker behavior. I told her what to look for, but I never gave Hank's name, though.”

“You're sure?” Clay asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “I'm sure. I avoided any mention of him. When I say his name, it makes the memories just harder to deal with. I'd rather he remain nameless.” She went still and tilted her head. “Glory was there.”

Seth snapped to attention. “What?”

“She came up to speak to Sharon about borrowing a costume for the ride the next day and was there for the rest of the conversation.”