Texas! Chase #2 (25 page)

"Lighten up, Pat, or I'm liable to think you're arresting me."

Sheriff Pat Bush, his hand wrapped firmly around Laurie

Tyler's elbow, was almost dragging her down the sidewalk toward his squad car parked at the curb. The twirling emergency lights were painting an electric rainbow across the gloomy dusk.

"Maybe I should."

His mouth was grimly clamped around a matchstick. He pulled open the passenger door of the squad car and practically stuffed her

inside, then jogged around the hood and slid behind the steering wheel. He engaged the gears and peeled away from the curb with a screech of tires.

"I don't know why you're so angry with me, Pat. I'm not clairvoyant," she said in her own defense. "How could I know Devon would go into labor today? She's four weeks early."

"Nobody knew where you were. Somebody should always know how to contact you, Laurie, for your own safety. If some pervert had snatched you, we wouldn't know where to start looking. As it is, I've been running all over town trying to find you."

Pat had been in his office when Chase called him from the ranch house. "Lucky's carrying Devon to the car now," he had told him. "We're on our way to the hospital, but we don't know where Mother is."

"I'll find her."

"Thanks, Pat, I was hoping you'd say that.

I'd look for her myself except Lucky is demented.

We barely made it from the office to here in one piece. I can't let him drive."

"I guess an ambulance is out of the question."

"Totally."

"Okay." Pat sighed. "Soon as I locate Laurie,

I'll bring her to the hospital."

For the better part of an hour Pat had been driving the streets of town in search of Laurie's car—on the grocery store parking lot, at the dry cleaners, anyplace he could think of that she patronized routinely. In the meantime he'd kept his mobile telephone busy

trying to track her through friends. The fourth call he made proved productive.

"I think she was planning to take some supper over to a sick friend," he was told by one of Laurie's bridge club friends. "When I

spoke with her this morning about next week's meeting, she was baking a pie."

"A sick friend? Do you know who?"

"That man she's been seeing. Mr. Sawyer, I

believe his name is."

Now Pat took the splintered matchstick out of his mouth and dropped it on the wet floorboard of his car. "How's Mr. Sawyer feeling?"

"Much better," Laurie said stiffly.

"I'll bet."

"I'll tell him you inquired."

"Don't bother."

"Poor man."

"What's the matter with him?"

"He's got a cold."

"Humph."

She turned her head, one brow eloquently arched. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What?"

"That sound."

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Well, I didn't like it. It sounded derisive."

"The guy's a wimp," Pat declared crossly.

"Why would you want to play nursemaid to a puny, skinny little wimp like that?"

"I brought you soup when you had the flu last year. Does that make you a wimp, too?"

Pat hunched over the steering wheel, gripping it tighter. "That was different."

"How so?"

"For one thing Sage was with you when you came to my place." Angrily he addressed her across the interior of the squad car. "For godsake, Laurie, have you stopped to consider what people will think about you going to Sawyer's place alone? In the middle of the afternoon? While he's in bed? Jeez!

Heaven only knows what people will think was going on in there between you two."

"What do you think was going on?" She tilted her head to one side and fixed a quelling stare on him through slitted eyes.

Matching her stare, he said, "Frankly, I don't know what to think. He's a Milquetoast, but obviously you're smitten. Though why in hell,

I can't imagine."

" 'Smitten' is such an antiquated word."

Pat was too caught up in his own argument to notice her gibe. "He's a regular at Sunday dinner now.

One night last week I drove out to see you. You were with him at a party at his lodge. The weekend before that, you spent all day Saturday in Canton together at the flea market. Tuesday night it was the spaghetti supper at church."

"I invited you to go to the spaghetti supper."

"I was working!"

"That's not my fault. Nor Jess's."

Pat brought the squad car to a halt at the hospital's emergency room entrance, got out, and came around to assist her out. Taking her arm, he hustled her through the rain toward the door that was reserved for official personnel.

"I'm only thinking of your reputation, Laurie.

I don't want your name dragged through the muck, that's all."

"I doubt Jess and I are a hot item."

"Oh, yeah? Everybody already knows you're seeing him."

"What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that?" Pat repeated, coming to a sudden halt in the deserted hospital hallway. He turned her to face him.

"What's wrong with that? Okay, I'll tell you what's wrong with that." He raised his index finger and pointed it toward her face. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Laurie gazed at him inquisitively. "Well?

I'm waiting."

He drew her face beneath the dripping brim of his hat and kissed her.

When he finally lifted his lips off hers, she wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered,

"Took you long enough, Pat."

With a low, hungry groan he kissed her again.

Chase came barreling through a swinging door at the end of the hallway but pulled up abruptly. Pat jumped as if he'd been shot and instantly released Laurie, who was looking blushingly young and more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, and that was covering four decades.

Chase looked as if he'd just walked into an invisible glass wall and hadn't yet recovered from the shock.

"Uh, somebody, uh, noticed

the squad car pulling in and said you'd be coming in through this entrance."

Pat could only stand there embarrassed and tongue-tied. Laurie handled the awkward situation with grace. "How's Devon?"

"Doing fine. But you'd better rush upstairs if you don't want to miss the main event."

"It's a girl!" Lucky, grinning from ear to ear, emerged from the delivery room. Draped in a surgical gown, with a green cap on his head, he looked sappy and jubilant. "Hey, Mother, you made it in time after all."

"Thanks to Pat." Chase sidled a glance at them and smiled devilishly.

"God, she's gorgeous! Gorgeous!" Lucky shouted, smacking his fist into his opposite palm.

"How's Devon?" Laurie asked anxiously.

"Came through like a pro. I suggested we start making another one right away. She socked me in the nose."

"How much did the baby weigh?"

"They're doing all that now. She's exactly two and a half minutes old. The doctor let me cut the cord.

Then he handed her to me.

Squishy, squalling, little red-faced thing. And

I handed her to Devon. Made a fool of myself.

Started crying. Jeez, it was great!"

Chase smiled, but he couldn't help thinking about the child of his who would have been a toddler by now. Considering that, he applauded himself for holding up very well.

"A girl," Chase said ruefully. Then he boomed

a laugh. "A girl! If that's not poetic justice, I

don't know what is. A girl! God has a terrific sense of humor."

Pat, catching his drift, began to chuckle.

Laurie looked between them, perplexed. Lucky's face turned red.

"The fastest zipper in East Texas now has a daughter," Chase said, laughing and clapping his hands together. "Oh, that's rich."

"That's not funny," Lucky grumbled.

"I don't think so either," Laurie said primly.

"It's hilarious," Chase cried. Throwing back his head, he hooted. "Wait till Sage hears about it. She'll give you grief."

"Sage! Oh, my goodness." Laurie began fishing in her handbag for coins. "She made me promise to call her the instant the baby was born. Pat, do you have some quarters?"

"I need to try Marcie again too," Chase said.

"Y'all excuse me," Lucky said. "I'm going back in to be with Devon. Stick around. They'll bring baby girl Tyler out in a few minutes."

"No name?"

"Not yet."

"We'll be right here." Laurie kissed her younger son on the cheek and gave him a bear hug. "I'm so happy for you, Lucky."

"Be happy for Devon. She did all the work."

He disappeared through doors marked delivery.

The three of them moved toward the bank of pay telephones. "Where is Marcie anyway?"

Laurie asked Chase.

"I tried calling her when we first got here.

Her secretary was about to leave for the day.

She said Marcie was showing a house, but was expected to return to the office before heading for home. She promised to leave her a message. On the outside chance they missed connections, I'm going to try calling Marcie at the house. She'll want to be here."

"Speaking of her…" From his breast pocket

Pat extracted a sheet of computer-generated data. "I just received this list of phone freaks from Dallas this morning. The technicians were thorough. The list covers the whole state and even includes suspects who were never convicted.

Course her nut might be a new one who's never been caught at it. Anyway, tell her to look it over and see if she recognizes any of the names."

Marcie's ex-fiance in Houston had been eliminated as a viable suspect. His telephone bills over the last few months showed only long-distance calls to his mother in Detroit and one to a mail order house in Pittsburgh. He had ordered a pocket calculator. He sounded like a singularly dull nerd, and that had secretly pleased Chase.

He, like any other, could be using a pay phone to make the calls, but Chase tended to agree with Marcie that this guy lacked the imagination.

It had taken longer than they had anticipated to receive the information from Dallas.

Chase was pessimistic that it would do any good, but he was heartened to know that Pat was continuing the investigation even though

the caller hadn't been heard from since the night they had involved the sheriff's office.

He hoped that something would break soon, and that it wouldn't be Marcie. The more time that passed, the more distraught she became.

She was determined to prove to him the calls were real. He had never doubted it for a moment.

He'd seen her fear; he'd held her trembling body after she'd suffered through a nightmare.

He hoped to God he never got his hands on the bastard who was putting her through this hell. He couldn't be held responsible for what he might do to him.

"Thanks, Pat." Chase took the paper from him and set it on the shelf beneath the pay phone. He dialed his home number. The tapping sound he now knew to listen for signaled that Pat hadn't stopped monitoring their telephone either.

It rang several times before he hung up and tried Marcie's office telephone. He got a recording saying that the office was closed and asking the caller to try again between nine and six the following day.

At the tone he said, "Marcie, it's me. Are you there?" He waited, but she didn't pick up the receiver as he had hoped.

"Sage is thrilled!" Laurie exclaimed as she hung up after speaking to her daughter. "She's leaving Austin now."

"That won't put her here until midnight."

Pat said, consulting his wristwatch.

"I know. I tried talking her into waiting till morning, but she insisted on coming tonight."

Mentioning the time had reminded Chase just how late it was. So much had happened since Lucky had received the call from Devon, he hadn't realized the hour had grown so late. "Who's looking at houses at this time of day?"

"Pardon?" Laurie asked him.

"Nothing. Go on back. Don't miss your granddaughter's debut. I'm going to try again to reach Marcie."

Laurie headed toward the newborns' nursery.

Pat hung back. "Chase, anything wrong?"

"No. At least I don't think so." Then he finally shook his head. "No, I'm sure there's not."

"Let me know."

"Sure. Hey, Pat." Pat had taken a few steps when Chase called his name. The sheriff turned around.

"That was some kiss."

The older man opened his mouth as though to deny all knowledge of what Chase was referring to. Then he ducked his head with chagrin.

"It sure as hell was." He and Chase smiled at each other, then Pat turned and moved down the hallway to rejoin Laurie.

Chase dialed his home number again. No answer. He called the office again. He got the recording.

Taking the telephone directory from its slot, he looked up Esme's home phone number.

"Oh, in. You still haven't talked to Marcie?"

"No. Did you speak with her before you left the office?"

"No. But I left your message on the telephone recorder and a note on her desk just in case there was a glitch with the tape. Whether she calls in or goes back to the office, she can't miss it. Was it a boy or girl?"

"What? Oh, it was a girl," he replied absently.

Where the hell could Marcie be? Shopping?

Running errands? Still showing a house?

"Esme, what time did she leave?"

"Just before six. You only missed her by a few minutes. She'd just walked out when you called the first time."

"Hmm. Who was she with? Buyers or sellers?

Was it someone she knew?"

"She wasn't with anybody. She had an appointment to meet Mr. and Mrs. Harrison at a house they're interested in."

"The infamous Harrisons?"

"The very same. Frankly, I think she's wasting her time on them, but she said you never know when clients are going to make up their minds and take the plunge."

Chase muttered his exasperation and shoved his fingers through his hair. "God only knows how long she'll be with them."

"As far as I know, they only asked to see one house tonight. It's a new listing on Sassafras Street."

"Well, thanks, Esme. Goodbye."

"I'm sure she'll be in touch soon."