Showdown at Lizard Rock (3 page)

“Me!”

“Me too!”

“My whole family comes here, and my mother before me.”

One by one most of the voices affirmed their familiarity and affection for the natural springs just beyond the rock.

“Well, that’s what this demonstration is all about. Mr. Vandergriff is about to—” But her words were drowned out as King raised his arm and the dirt-moving machines and equipment roared majestically to life.

“He’s going to build a private club around the springs!” she screamed over the noise. “And only members will be able to use them!”

“No!” several people yelled in unison.

The reporters close to the rock turned immediately to interview the shocked onlookers who had heard Kaylyn’s announcement. Another carload of police pulled in, and uniformed officers began stationing themselves among the crowd.

Kaylyn shouted out her last bit of information. “King Vandergriff’s plans call for destroying Pretty Springs!” She turned to King and found him staring at her with a mixture of fury and stunned respect. “King Vandergriff,” she yelled, “if you don’t shut off those machines, I’m going to see that they run over you!”

“Unlock this chain and I’ll turn off the machines. Then you can talk your head off!”

“Word of honor?”

“Word of honor! I’ve already won the bet, anyway! They believed what I said about this being a planned event!”

Kaylyn looked around at the bulldozers and cherry pickers that surrounded the rock. They were rumbling among the spectators, dispersing them. They crushed beautiful old beds of day lilies and brought her carefully planned demonstration to a halt.

“All right,” she said, “but I’m not at all sure you have any honor, and I don’t think you convinced anybody!”

She lifted a lock of hair and removed a transparent piece of tape that held a tiny key to her left breast, just above the bikini. “No funny stuff, now,” she warned.

“No funny stuff!” he yelled over the sound of the machines.

Kaylyn wished she was surer of the stern-faced blond savage beside her. But short of spending the rest of her life with him atop this rock, she had little choice except to release him. She’d never be able to make herself heard over the noise of his machines, and being heard was the point of the protest. She inserted the key in the padlock and unsnapped it.

King smiled fiendishly. “Now, darlin’, we’re going down.”

“What?”

“Like I said, I like to be prepared. And I’m not Tarzan or The Fly, so I plan ahead.”

He swooped her up into his arms once more, stood quickly, and stepped forward into the waiting bucket of the cherry picker. The construction workers burst into spontaneous applause, and the roar of engines began to die.

“You fink! You tricked me!” Kaylyn began to beat on his hairy chest.

“You got it,” he said smugly.

The bucket creaked and shimmied under their weight. She closed her eyes and hung on tight, feeling defeated and depressed.

The police chief was waiting by the rock for them. “What’s the problem here?” he asked gruffly. “Do you realize that you’ve got traffic tied up for miles?”

“Arrest her, Chief Newton,” King said. “I’d like to charge this woman with trespassing and breaking and entering. I have witnesses.” He deposited her into the arms of the startled police officer standing beside the chief.

“Breaking and entering what?” Newton glanced
around the area, then back at King. King suppressed a wince as the chief’s disapproving gaze roved over his barely covered body.

“Breaking and entering on my property and defacing my rock,” King explained. “She drove a spike into the Lizard’s neck.”

“I admit I did trespass,” Kaylyn said. “But I did not drive a spike into the Lizard. That spike has been there for years.”

“You heard her, Chief. She admitted entering the property without permission and refusing to leave when she was requested to do so. I want to press charges.”

“You’re not serious, are you, Mr. Vandergriff?” Newton asked. “I mean, surely we can work this out.”

“Oh, no! I’m dead serious. And I insist that you do your duty. Arrest this woman.”

Chief Newton gave Kaylyn a helpless look. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take you in, Katie, my girl. What in tarnation did you think you’d accomplish by sitting up on that rock in that garb?”

Kaylyn was fuming silently. Vandergriff wasn’t going to have the last say. There was no way she was going to jail. Wait. Unless …

“All right, Chief, if that’s the case, I’d like to press charges against King Vandergriff for assault with intent to do bodily harm.”

“Bull,” King retorted. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You grabbed her, son,” Newton said. “I saw you. She tried to get away, and you held on. That’s intent to do bodily harm in my book. Take them both in, boys, and find them some clothes.”

“Oh, dammit! For Pete’s sake!” King protested.
His hands were pulled out in front of him, and a pair of handcuffs were snapped on. The police officer carrying Kaylyn deposited her in a patrol car, and the officer leading King opened the door on the opposite side.

“Hey,” one of the reporters called out, “what about our refreshments down at the Waterhole?”

King turned to look for Mac. “Mac! Take them to the restaurant and get things rolling. I’ll be out of this mess and down there before you’re finished.”

“Now look what you’ve done,” Kaylyn said to King as two officers slid into the patrol car’s front seat. “We’re both going to jail. Hey, guys!” She rapped on the divider to get the officers’ attention. “Will somebody get over to that van and tell Sandi and Luther what’s happening so they can get back to the home?”

“The home? Did I understand you to say ‘home’?” King asked.

“Yes, the senior citizens’ home. That’s where I live.”

“Then what I heard was true. I’m dealing with the ultimate do-gooder.” He gave a sigh of resignation and leaned back in the seat.

“I live and work in the Pretty Springs Nursing Home. Luther is one of the patients.”

“And Sandi? Is that like in Claus?”

“Cool it, King. You’re about to push me too far. Hey, Jody,” she asked the officer in the passenger seat, “how about a pair of cuffs for Vandergriff’s ankles? I think he’s a runner.”

Jody glanced around. “Cut the jabbering, you two. Katie, where in hell did you find that stripper’s outfit?”

“Oh, is that what this is? It came in the last
clothes box sent over to the home. None of our residents could figure out what to do with it. Strippers actually wear this stuff? Can you imagine that?”

The thought of Kaylyn Smith doing a striptease caught King somewhere in the area of his stomach, and lower. He tried to ignore the touch of her bare leg against his, but the sexual tension inside this small, confined area was increasing nonetheless. He wanted desperately to reach the jail so that he could get away from the woman who’d turned his carefully orchestrated world into a circus.

He sensed a sudden mood change in her and knew that she was as aware of the growing tension as he was. She’d shifted her weight so that she could lean against the car door, as far away from him as possible. He considered his alternatives. He’d let them book her. Once she understood that he was serious, he’d drop the charges and let her go. That ought to bring this to an end.

What happened to my damned clothes? he wondered abruptly as the police car turned off the highway and crossed a set of railroad tracks. Those boots had cost him four hundred and fifty dollars, and he didn’t want to lose them—not to mention the hat. He definitely didn’t want to give up the Stetson. And truthfully, in spite of his bravado, sitting here in his underwear made him feel as foolish as hell.

But still he decided that he could afford to be forgiving. Kaylyn Smith couldn’t stop the Pretty Springs project. The land was his, and county officials had approved the project. He’d make a grand gesture. He’d concede that all of this scene today might in some way be his fault. Hell, he’d definitely concede. One way or another, he’d always been able
to convince the opposition that he was right. It was his charm.

The car pulled into a parking lot, and Kaylyn stared at the police station. Spending the night in jail wasn’t something she was looking forward to, but she was willing if it would help her cause. She rubbed one bare foot against the opposite ankle. She felt an annoying tickle on her anklebone, a tickle that soon turned into a full-fledged, all-out itch. Even her bottom began to burn, and she shifted herself back and forth, trying to relieve some of the torture.

“What’s wrong?” King asked sternly, turning to her. “Are you in pain?”

“No, of course not. Something seems to be biting me.”

“Let me see.”

“No. Stay away.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re breaking out in red splotches.” He leaned down and examined her ankles.

“All right, cowboy. Stop ogling my legs.”

He was grinning openly when he raised up. “Itching, stinging, little red bumps on your ankles? Does it hurt everywhere else, I hope?”

“Uh … no!” she said, trying to still her squirming bottom.

“That’s too bad. I think you may have a slight case of poison ivy from your little jaunt through the greenery around Lizard Rock. If you ask the police, I’m sure one of them will be pleased to apply some kind of lotion for you.”

“Nonsense, I’ll do it myself.” She had a sinking suspicion that King was right about the poison ivy.

“Not in jail you won’t. Prisoners aren’t allowed to have anything that could be fashioned into a weapon.
Sorry, darlin’, it looks like you’re going to be a little uncomfortable for a few days.”

Chief Newton led Kaylyn and King inside, through a tiny office and into a larger room in the back, which held three cells.

“Whoo-eeee, would you look at that,” a boozy voice called. “Streakers. The boys at the bar ain’t never going to believe this.”

Harold Willis, the town drunk, stared blankly at them and Newton. “You can put the lady in here with me, Chief,” he volunteered with the grace of someone being presented to the queen. “I’ll make sure nobody says nothin’ impolite to her.”

“Can it, Harold,” the chief muttered. He looked at Kaylyn apologetically. “Sorry, Katie, my girl, but you’re going to have to share the facilities with Harold and Mr. Vandergriff. Don’t think we’ve ever had a woman in here before. Usually take them over to the county jail. We only have the three cells, and Harold always gets the middle one.”

“Fine, just get me something to wear.” She walked into the cell next to Harold’s and watched the chief lock her door.

“Somebody handed me these clothes to bring along,” an officer said. Kaylyn recognized them. They were King’s. She glanced over at her adversary. He was being placed in the cell on the other side of Harold. She nodded and smiled.

“Yes, give me the shirt and socks. The rest belong to Mr. Vandergriff. Thanks, Sergeant Williams.”

She slipped into King’s shirt and put his socks on. She considered for a moment that she should have taken his trousers, too, but there was something too intimate about that idea. She’d manage without.

King Vandergriff really wasn’t a savage, she told herself. Savages always ravished their women. King Vandergriff wasn’t even royal, unless you could count calling him a royal pain in the … No. What the man was, was a renegade, strong and lean and locked in on a purpose. She had to admit that he’d looked as if he belonged on the rock. The more she thought about the day’s excitement, the more disturbed she became. She didn’t want him to belong.

For every move she’d made, he’d made a counter-move. They were probably just about even. She’d failed to change his mind about the springs. She’d failed to convince anyone that his real plans for Lizard Rock and Pretty Springs weren’t pretty at all. And she’d ended up in jail.

She had also used the nursing home’s van without permission. She’d done that before, but this time she wasn’t sure what the director would say about her escapade. And maybe, just maybe, the picture on the front page of the
Pretty Springs Gazette
would be a bit more sensational than she’d planned.

After all, how could she have expected King Vandergriff to strip and join her on the rock? Poor Lizard, he’d probably never live this scandal down. A glance across the cells toward King made her wonder if she could manage to vanquish a man who wore red underwear, cowboy boots, and a Stetson.

If circumstances were different, she might not even want to try.

“Kaylyn, are you all right down there?” King called.

“I’m fine,” she lied, trying desperately to keep from scratching the rash that was looking more and more like poison ivy. “No thanks to you,” she added in a low voice. “If I could get my hands on you …”

“What did you say?” he asked.

A police siren outside drowned out her reply.

“She says she’s fine, son,” Harold relayed. “She just wants to get her hands on you to thank you.”

King peered at Kaylyn through Harold’s cell. All he could see of her was a red-and-tan plaid shirt.
His
red-and-tan plaid shirt. When he’d put on his jeans and boots and had seen that he only had his beige jacket, he’d wondered what had happened to his shirt.

“Kaylyn Smith, are you wearing my shirt?”

“Yes, Mr. Vandergriff. Thank you.”

“So now you’re adding theft to your other charges? I guess I’m going to have to get a restraining order to keep you away from my property.”

“I guess you’d better. Because I intend to mess with your property every chance I get.”

“What’d I tell you, boy,” Harold said, chortling. “She wants to get her hands on your body.”

“Come on, Lady Godiva, accept it. There’s no way you’re going to stop me.”

“No? I thought you might have learned something today. It isn’t smart to mess with Kaylyn Smith.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You make your plans and I’ll make mine. You like playing games? I know a few I’d like to teach you.”

Kaylyn blanched. “We’ll see, Mr. Vandergriff. How do you like playing cops and robbers? A little time in jail ought to make my point if my protest didn’t. All right, Chief, you can let me out now!”

“No can do, Katie, my girl,” the chief called from the front office. “This time it’s official and we have to go by the rules. You’ll have to wait to be bailed out.”