Mary Wine (5 page)

* * * * *

“This is very sudden, Roshelle; are you sure you want to do this?”

It was strange the way the simplest of questions could break through a person’s panic. Standing in the land deed office, as she was just a breath away from complying with a kidnapper, Candice Talbert’s question reached out to slap her back into rational thought.

If she signed the land over, what assurance did she have that Christina would ever be seen again?

The hand that held an ink pen began to shake as the horrible possibilities started to circulate inside her head. For that matter, she was to deliver the papers later tonight; once her signature was affixed to the deed then she herself would have no other purpose.

Except to blow the whistle.

Firmly placing the pen back into its holder, Roshelle aimed a smile at Candice.

“I believe you’re correct. I think I’ll just take a few days to think it over. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you’d remember to try and talk me out of it if I try this again.”

“Well, just don’t go sending that thing over with a delivery boy.”

“Candice, I promise you that if I do sell, I’ll find the courage to look you in the eye. In fact, if you don’t get it from my hand, don’t accept it.”

“Well, now, I’ve got a form you can sign to that effect.”

“Really?” That would sure make things more interesting tonight. Roshelle forced her hand to stop shaking as she applied her signature to the contract Candice slid onto the countertop. The stakes were rather high, but what choice did she have? Walking out with a deed in her hand seemed like hoisting a white flag of surrender.

“That’s a girl.” Candice would have added a few more bits of advice but her guest rounded on her heel and started down the hallway. Some people just had no respect for their family roots. Still, Roshelle didn’t seem the sort to just sell up after her kin passed on. Candice considered her encounter with the young woman before reaching for the telephone, maybe her friend Ruth would have some light to shed on the situation.

* * * * *

So, just what was the thing with her grandmother’s land?

Phone calls were one thing, but kidnapping? Benton County had one of the lowest crime rates in the country. Most people in town didn’t even bother to lock the doors to their cars when they stepped into the local market.

The entire thing just defied logic. Deed the land over and Christina would be released. That just didn’t seem very likely.

So, what if she called their bluff?

Dropping her head into her hands, she renewed her attempts to soothe away her headache. Nausea was rising up from her stomach to join it. Just what the hell was going on? It had all begun with
him
.

Abruptly her mood changed as anger burned away at her body’s distress. She had every right to live on her land! No dream specter was going to drive her out and she was not going to put up with her friends being held hostage!

After all, she really didn’t have any other choice. Christina was all she had.

* * * * *

“Now, Roshelle, you’re asking an old man to break the law.”

Forcing her mouth into a smile, Roshelle twisted her hands. “Mr. Findlay, it’s not like the gun laws were made for someone like me. I’m not a criminal, just a little scared. Why my grandfather’s rifle sat in the corner of the kitchen every day that Abba lived and I just would feel so much better with a bit of protection about.”

Tomas reached up to scratch his head as he eyed her. Roshelle held her breath but kept her eyelashes moving. She’d watched Christina twist men around her little finger with just a smile and a few eyelash flutters!

“I’m not going hunting. I promise no one will even know the gun left this store. Unless something happens.” Now she let her eyes open wide. The gun shop owner melted right in front of her. He took the credit card she held and rang up the sale.

“Well, now it just ain’t right for a woman to be all tied up in knots and so on. What you need is to get on with settling down. You young folks don’t take family as serious as you should. Waiting to have your babies ‘til half your life’s gone. A good, sturdy husband is all the protection you really need.”

Her smile melted off her face the second she stepped out of the shop. Clutching her purchase under her arm, Roshelle forced her feet forward.

Her feet stumbled as she looked at the Benton County Sheriff Station. Sitting just half a block away it was so very tempting to go lay her burden on law enforcement’s shoulders.

But she couldn’t take that chance. The thought of never seeing Christina toss her blonde curls again stiffened her resolve. Clutching her purchase to her chest, she turned away from the sheriff’s station.

* * * * *

Roshelle had never been so grateful for her odd senses. Tonight, she bowed her head in gratitude for the singeing sting that would inform her when she was no longer alone. She opened her mind and for the very first time attempted to feel for her approaching company.

Standing in the shadows cast by a half-dead tree, she waited. Her anger was still biting away at her emotions. Roshelle intentionally allowed it free rein. It was better than being afraid.

Her fingers curled around the handle of the small caliber pistol. Her baggy sweatshirt let her keep the weapon concealed in its folds.

It was going to be one of the greatest tests of character that she had ever undergone. Threatening to take another human being’s life was something that was in direct conflict with every thing that she believed in.

It was amazing how loud the sensation was when she was attempting to use it. Roshelle felt her senses ring in a near-deafening level across her mind.

“The deed please.”

“Christina first.”

“You are not in a position to make demands.”

The arctic tone of his voice was grating on her nerves.

“Neither are you. If you can’t show her to me then you’ll never see that land deed.”

Her mind suddenly became alight with several new sensations. Having never truly attempted to develop her extra senses, Roshelle struggled to understand just what she was picking up.

Her eyes helped by picking up the movement of at least two other men. They treaded on silent feet as they came closer to her. One made an abrupt movement and pulled a third figure from the darkness. The person stumbled slightly before hastily placing as much distance between her escorts as she could. Her hand eagerly grasped the shaking one of her friend as Christina stumbled alongside of her.

“Now give me the deed.”

Roshelle began a slow retreat with her friend at her side.

“That’s far enough.”

Her original antagonist stepped forward with her retreat down the mountain. There was only a sliver of moon tonight, but as he stepped out into the open the meager light washed over the gun that he held at the ready.

Curling her fingers into her friend’s hand, Roshelle played the only card that she had been able to think of.

“It’s nailed to the tree behind you.”

Enclosed in a dark blue envelope, the packet of paper went unnoticed in the dark. All three men turned and gave their attention to retrieving it. Spinning on her heel, Roshelle propelled herself down towards the road and her car. She’d left the keys in the ignition in the hopes that her ploy might buy them enough time to escape.

A sharp pop from behind them drove them faster. The heavy tread of booted feet was gaining on them, but they weren’t waiting to overtake their prey.

More bullets sailed through the night air, most of them finding targets in the trees. The women had the advantage of size, as they maneuvered the obstacle of redwoods faster than their larger male pursuers.

The advantage was not enough. They would never make the distance to the road. With no other choice, Roshelle turned and fired the weapon she held. Panic held her arm steady as the overwhelming need to survive gave her the strength to pull the trigger.

Her first would-be assassin became a victim of his own failure to identify her as a threat. Twenty feet separated them and her aim proved true. His body slumped to the ground with graceless force.

His companion immediately took cover and returned fire. He would have found his target if Christina hadn’t pulled Roshelle behind the cover of an ancient tree.

“Where did you get a gun?”

“Findlay’s; how many are there?”

“A lot.” Christina locked eyes with her friend as she divulged that horrifying truth.

The approaching sounds of reinforcements drove panic into the hearts of both women. The tree they were pressed to currently provided cover but with more opponents they would be able to surround them very quickly.

Pressed to the ground in their search for survival they clung to each other as they felt the grip of a death trap closing around them.

Abruptly silence rained supreme.

The cease-fire was almost deafening coming as it did while she was anticipating her death.

The slow sound of a single person applauding drifted down to their ears. The man continued his slow appreciation as his feet made the slightest of crunching sounds along the forest floor. He stopped a few feet short of exposing himself to Roshelle’s line of fire. At the moment, she would gladly trade her own safety for the knowledge that she would be taking this animal with her into eternity.

“I must say I am impressed.”

A single shot pierced the night. The round hit the tree just three inches above her head causing her to violently pitch her body away from the tree. Roshelle was unable to judge her landing and ended sprawled face-first on the forest floor. She flung her arms out in a vain attempt to prevent her face from taking the brunt of her fall. Pain exploded from her right arm as a booted foot descended on the limb, grinding her flesh into the unyielding ground.

Her hand released its grip on her weapon in response to the torment. The pressure was increased momentarily before being removed. Pulling her arm towards her chest, she slowly flexed the limb trying to decide if it was sound. Pain was coursing along its entire length but her attention was caught as she was yanked to her feet by the waistband of her jeans.

“Yes, I am quite surprisingly impressed.” His eyes looked even colder than his voice. They raked over her before returning to her face. “Now, where is the deed?”

“I never brought one!” Roshelle spat her defiance into the face of her tormentor. “You will never get it now.”

Despite the darkness of the night, Roshelle clearly saw the corner of his mouth lift up in response to her statement. That simple action sent a chill down her spine. She brutally shoved her fear aside. She refused to die a coward!

“Ah. The will you have so recently had established. It is a pity that you escaped the death we planned for you.”

A cold hand reached out and ran the length of her cheek. Roshelle recoiled from the blackness that communicated itself through that single point of contact. Maybe it was the fact that she had deliberately opened her mind tonight, but she felt the sickness that inhabited his soul as he touched her. The twisted evil permeated the very air between them, causing her stomach to turn as she was forced to endure his presence.

Roshelle didn’t believe that she had ever truly understood the very definition of hate until that moment. Compressed into the creature that stood in front of her was more evil than she could ever believe possible. The blackness seeped from his flesh until the stench choked her.

His hands had directed so much pain. Roshelle found herself gagging in response to the horror.

“Don’t count on it. Unless I go to the deed office myself, that land will become church property.”

“You do not listen to directions very well. But we will have to see just what you have managed to do.”

Chapter Four

The way a helicopter vibrated was an old familiar motion. Jared lifted his eyes and watched the mountains of Washington come into view. He was at home in the combat aircraft. While most kids were turning their bicycles into airplanes, he’d been flying in the real thing.

Helicopters mostly. Their ability to land and lift off with the minimal amount of land made them idea. His mother was one of a kind, a psychic bloodhound. Her efficiency rate made her workload heavy. The second he’d learned to use his own talents, Jared had found himself in the field helping to lighten that load.

Not that he minded. It was raw. The edge. The constant struggle. With adrenaline pulsing through his bloodstream, he took to the hunt with a driving hunger. He’d been born for it.

But tonight his mind was wandering again. His body was throbbing, but not for the same kind of mission. Oh, he wanted to hunt all right. But the prey he had in mind was a female.

Society had all of its polite words for it. Courting, romancing, dating. Jared didn’t live his life within the comfortable armchair of civilian life. His life was balanced on the edge. He wasn’t interested in anything as tame as dating. He wanted Roshelle. It was plain and base but incredibly intense.

Tasting her was a miscalculation. It was still clinging to his mind. His fingers still pulsed with the memory of exactly how soft her skin was. Her little moans were the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. He wanted more than sex. Something that would break the barrier of mere penetration. Sure, he was going to enjoy the slide of his staff into her body but the way their minds linked just seemed to make it far more intense. Maybe even intimate.

Desire was slowly burning along his skin. Jared enjoyed its rising tide.

Jared opened the aircraft door the second it touched the landing pad in front of his home. He shouldered his way out and made it exactly four paces before his mind erupted with emotion.

Something was very wrong.

Fear floated on the wind. It was almost thick enough to taste. Pulling his gun from its holster, he surveyed his home. The emotions were so thick, he had trouble pinpointing the exact location.

A sharp whistle broke his attention momentarily. Shane was alerting his men to the possibility of a threat. The unit fell into sharp attention in an instant. Nothing moved as Jared struggled to untangle the jumble of emotions that assaulted him.

Her.

His eyes widened with pure enjoyment. So, the little vixen wasn’t afraid to come looking for him? That fit his mood just about right.

Dropping his gun back into its holster, he moved towards the unit’s trucks. He would answer her call, but he wasn’t going unprepared this time.

And to the victor went the spoils.