Rising Storm (24 page)

"Yes dear?"

"Is that barbed wire hanging off your car?"

"Yes, well, fencing was slowing us down so I just drove through it. I think it gives the car a certain look, don’t you?"

Mrs. Wyatt got into the back seat with Katelyn as Ruffles leapt into the front passenger seat with Alice, vying for who got to stick their head out the window. Beauford drove off and Marshall couldn’t help but smile as a ten-foot barbed wire tail followed behind.

He looked around, as the town was starting to break up and head home. No one noticed that his car had been parked a mile away or that he had driven up from the wrong direction. Or that he was in jeans when most everyone was used to seeing him in a suit or at least khakis.

The second he had seen Marshall storm into the clearing as a man possessed, he had known there was going to be a reckoning. He and Nancy had grabbed their things and had run. Although she had decided to hide up a tree, stupid girl. He had run into the woods and to his car. He was about to head home when his phone rang. It was his father telling him about the dog fight and informing him most of the town was already heading out there. Someone needed to represent the family, he had been told, and his father was in Frankfort and couldn't be there. Could he go for the family?

So, he had taken off his hat and mussed up his hair so it looked like he had just gotten out of bed. He pulled out the set of dentures and tossed them in the glove box along with the colored contacts, fake eyebrows and mustache. Then he had sat there and worried about Nancy. He knew his name wasn't in that black book of hers, as she never wrote down his bets. However, she was the one person who knew his real identity. If she talked, he'd be arrested in a heartbeat.

After half the town had driven by his hiding spot, he turned on the car and drove out of the woods and parked behind a minivan. He had hurried to the scene and put himself right in the middle of the crowd and demanded to know what happened. He had scanned the crowd and the grounds for Nancy and thought he was home free until that stupid mutt found her up the tree.

He was sure she’d give him up. He let others push past him to see what was going on as Nancy climbed down the tree. He was at the back of the crowd when she turned around. But, the dumb bitch lost her temper over that vet. She had complained to him about Katelyn for months and he guessed she just lost it seeing her there now. She had laughed and laughed when Andre showed up with Ruffles. He had never seen her so excited as she was to see Katelyn watch her dog get torn to shreds.

When Nancy saw Katelyn holding her dog, still alive and well, it must have triggered something in her. She had pulled out that gun and pointed it at Katelyn and then the answer to his dilemma presented itself. He had hidden his smile under his hand as Nancy was shot dead by half the people there!

He could now go forward with the merger into Internationals as planned. Upper management had already tapped him to be their ears in Washington and to quietly lobby for the protection of dog fighters. He had done such a good job keeping the law away from the fights in Kentucky over the past five years that he hoped they were willing to overlook this downfall. In fact, he would make sure they blamed it on the Watkinses.

On top of that, he had quietly lobbied for reduced sentencing for people convicted of crimes related to dog-fighting and had managed to stop many bills from even coming up for a vote in Keeneston and in Frankfort. He may not have been a regular member on Kentucky's Capitol Hill, but he had the connections that Internationals liked. Internationals had contacted him about his connections in Washington and he couldn't be more excited. With the money from Internationals backing his bid for office, he would be elected in no time. Senator did have a nice ring to it, didn't it?

"Good night, Sheriff. Good work here tonight."

"Thank you," Marshall said to him.

"Let me know if there’s anything I or my family can help you with."

"Yes, I will. Good night."

He turned and headed towards his car with a smile hidden under the stern expression he wore on his face.

"Ah, ladies, may I escort you to your car? I’d hate to have you trip on a root or anything."

"Thank you. How kind of you." Miss Violet said as she took his outstretched arm.

He felt like whistling. No one suspected a thing and they never would.

Chapter Twenty

Marshall straightened up his back and stretched. It was quiet now as he sat in the cruiser and took notes of the scene. Everyone was gone. All the evidence was collected and logged. All the criminals were in jail or the hospital. He had fielded questions from the press and was now working on his report and his personal notes. He knew he’d need them for the countless trials coming up.

Cole had checked in with him and told him the book contained thousands of names all over the Southeast. They were working with numerous government agencies in fifteen different states. At eight in the morning, just two hours from now, doors were going to be busted in all over the south as the people in the black book were rounded up.

Headlights made their way down the dirt road and he pushed himself out of his seat to see who it was. He recognized his brother's car instantly and leaned against the cruiser and waited for him to stop his car.

"Heard you had a long night."

"The king of understatement. It looks like you had a long night too, Mi."

His brother looked exhausted. There were bags under his eyes. Miles' hair looked like it had been run over and over by his hand.

"Work has been crazy to say the least. I’m just trying to figure some corporate stuff out."

"Anything I can help with?" Marshall asked, knowing Miles would never ask for help.

"Not yet. How's Katelyn?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I can't get a minute alone with her. I‘ve been trying to tell her I love her for days, but something always happens or someone always walks in." He was beyond frustrated now.

"It'll work out. Is there anything you need my help with?"

"No, I don't think so. I was actually just about to head home," Marshall told his brother.

"Good. Then follow me to the road. I'll see you tonight at Ma's for dinner. Oh, and put some ice on that eye before Ma sees you."

"Good idea. I hate when she fusses. 'Night Miles."

Katelyn stared at her ceiling and tried to imagine sheep jumping over the bed. It didn't work and it hadn't worked for the past three hours since her grandparents had ushered her into bed.

She really just wanted to know how Marshall was. His eye had already turned black and blue. There was a cut across his chin that he really should have been stitched, but he had just had a paramedic put some butterfly strips on it and said Cade could stitch it up later.

But, her grandparents never gave her the option to check on him. She had been so scared and she really wanted Marshall's arms wrapped around her and to feel the strength of his chest as she leaned into him. Instead she was stuck surrounded by the town, staring longingly at him as if he was an oasis just out of reach. She watched him work as she clung to Ruffles. He commanded the area. He answered questions and gave orders with such a calm confidence. When Nancy had raised that gun at her the only thought that ran through her mind was of him. She had waited too long. She should’ve taken a chance.

Katelyn really wanted to see him. She sat up slowly in bed, feeling foolish for this urgency that had come over her. Swinging her feet onto the rug, Katelyn stood up. Pain shot through her side where she had been hit in her wound during the incident. She knew she had torn a stitch or two during her struggle with her captors too.

Katelyn stood up and made her way to the full-length antique mirror that stood in the corner of her room. She pulled up her white tank top and stared at the reflection in the mirror. Marshall wasn't the only one who was black and blue. One side of her ribcage was nothing but a big bruise. She certainly wouldn't be running anywhere, even into his arms.

She lowered her shirt and went to look out into the morning light when a soft knock at the door stopped her.

"Come in."

Katelyn turned around and watched her door open. Her heartbeat sped up and she had butterflies in her stomach. Had Marshall come for her?

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Your grandmother called and I jumped on the jet as soon as I could. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I was in LA checking on some of my properties when I got the call. She said you were hurt. You look horrible."

Jack Jacks stood in all his corporate glory and, for once in his life, looked worried.

"Thanks a lot for the lovely compliment. I'm okay, Dad."

"No, no you're not." He strode forward and before she knew what he was doing he pulled up the side of her shirt, exposing the long, angry gash on her side. "What's that long incision and how did you get covered in bruises?"

"It's a gunshot wound. And the bruises are from my abduction last night."

"Shot? My daughter has been shot and kidnapped? Samuel, get in here!" He yelled into the hall.

Katelyn watched as a young man in skinny jeans, black-rimmed glasses, and a button-down shirt straight off the Calvin Klein runway popped into the room. His hair was gelled so it was hard to tell if it was brown or if it was just wet.

"Yes Mr. Jacks?"

"I need you to find the leading expert on gunshot wounds and the best plastic surgeon in the world and fly them here immediately."

"Stop. Dad, I’m fine. It's just a bruise and the wound is healing well. Don't fly in any doctors. I’ll just refuse to see them."

Her father stepped forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. "If you say so. Will you at least get back into bed and rest?"

"That's right, dear, you need your rest for dinner tonight at the Davies farm," her grandmother said as she peeked around Samuel in the doorway.

"Why would she care about a dinner at a farm? No, she's going to stay in bed and I am going to fly my personal chef in to make you dinner. You're too good and important for dinner at a
farm
."

"Jack! That is it! I’ve put up with your snobbery long enough. I put up with it first because you were married to my daughter. Then I put up with it because of Katelyn. But, if you say one more narrow-minded, pompous word… bless your heart, I will shoot you. Gosh knows I've had practice lately," her grandmother said in a raised voice.

Katelyn snorted and then laughed out loud at her father's shocked expression and that this was the angriest she'd ever heard her grandmother. It was hard to take her too seriously as she stood with her hands on her hips and a huge yellow hat with a white feather on her head that bounced as she lectured in her slow sing-song voice.

"Look Ruth, I don't expect you to know the finer points of life…" her father started to say.

"Alice, petunia!"

Katelyn heard Alice's nails click on the hardwood floor as she ran down the hall and into her bedroom. She looked to see where her grandmother was pointing and then sprung up and took a bite out of the seat of her father's thousand dollar pants.

"Petunia? Your dog bit my ass!"

"Well, any proper southern lady would never use such vulgar language. As for the finer points in life, you wouldn't know them if they jumped up and bit you in the petunia."

"And you would? Sure, you have a little money from investments, but that's it. I have hundreds of millions and I’m surrounded by only the best clothes, food, planes, cars, houses, and people, while you’re out to dinner with farmers!" Her father laughed then and by the pinched face her grandmother was giving him, Katelyn bet he was about to be given a lesson.

"You want to know the finer points of life? Then I’ll give you a lesson young man. You're talking to a direct daughter of one of the founding members of the Daughters of the American Revolution. My family tree, when shaken, has so many debutants falling out of it that you’d be lost in a cloud of white tulle. And, don't forget, while your grandfather, the Scottish
farmer
, got off the boat, my father had, and I still have, a house next to the old Vanderbilt compound in the Hamptons. Further, I doubt you have millions of dollars in family silver buried in the back yard from the Civil War, either. See, the only people who point out the finer points of life, while looking down their nose at others, are the ones who are too new to money to know better than to behave so poorly!"

"But, Sylvia never said anything about the Hamptons, or silver in the backyard, or anything at all about money. Besides wanting mine."

"That's because we cut her off after she trashed the house in the Hamptons during a massive fight with husband number two. Now, enough of this money talk, and enough of your snobbery. I hope you’ve learned that you never know what fortune, money or otherwise, can be found with good manners and learning what's beneath the surface of a person."

"Yes, Mrs. Wyatt. I believe I understand." Her father hung his head and Katelyn was left shocked as her grandmother smacked her father's arm.

"Bless your heart, you can still call me Mom." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss on the forehead.

Her father smiled and looked at her as if it was the first time. Katelyn smiled back - she'd see what changes really came about, but right now she was having a hard time not laughing about the image of her father with a bright red lipstick mark right in the middle of his forehead.

"So, who are these people we’re having dinner with tonight?" he asked.

"Your daughter's beau."

"A farmer? My daughter is dating a farmer?" he choked.

"Would that be so bad as long as she's happy? Now, I’m off to call Marcy to see if you can even come to dinner. After all, you haven't been invited." Her grandmother gave him a wicked little grin and floated off down the hall with Alice trailing behind her, a piece of black suit hanging from her lips.

"Does he make you happy?" her father asked quietly.

"Yes, he does."

Katelyn felt the warming sense of love take over her body and heart. She couldn't wait to see Marshall. She wanted to see him with her grandmother and grandfather and to feel that joyful peace of being in love and being happy.