Genuine Cowboy Page 11

  She’d tell her mother when she got home from work, but it had never helped. Orson would deny everything and Lydia would believe his lies. As far as Alyssa’s mother was concerned, Orson could do no wrong.

  “Well, he’s doing wrong now, Mom. He’s killing innocent people and he’s dragging me into his sordid games of revenge. And he’s using your only grandson to blackmail me into doing his dirty work.”

  Alyssa picked up the silver frame that held the picture of her and her mother and threw it against the wall. The glass cracked and shards went flying about the room like cutting rain.

  Lydia had helped make Orson into the monster he’d become. She’d let him get by with anything. Given him anything he’d wanted, even money for illegal drugs. He’d been her prince. Alyssa had been the miserable pauper, starved for even a smidgen of her mother’s attention.

  Alyssa didn’t care anymore. All she cared about was Nick. He was a good kid. Not like Orson.

  The piercing ring of the cell phone Orson had furtively supplied her with sent her head into orbit. She cradled her head with her right hand as she took the call.

  “Did you get the money?”

  “I tried, but no one will lend me that much,” she replied. “I got behind on all my credit card bills when I was out of work. My credit score bottomed out. I told you that.”

  “I’m parked in front of Nick’s school, Alyssa. I think it’s time he meet his uncle.”

  “No. Leave him alone, Orson. Please, leave him be. I’ve got half the money. I’ll give you that and get the rest tomorrow. Please don’t touch Nick.”

  “I never said I’d hurt him. I’ll just take him with me when I leave the country. Teach him to be a man. Just because you’re my favorite sister.”

  His taunting laughter made her stomach roll.

  “I’ll have the money.”

  She had one last option—Frank—a loan shark who charged abominable rates of interest and would end up with her car and half of every paycheck. She’d be lucky if he left her with enough money to buy groceries. They’d likely be forced to live on the streets. And even at that, there was no guarantee that Frank would lend her that much.

  She should have killed Orson herself, years ago, while he slept. The world would have been a better place.

  Chapter Ten

  Eve pulled her jeans jacket tight, glad she’d grabbed it when Sean had suggested a quick walk while Joey helped Collette feed the horses. The wind was howling this morning, the wind-chill factor making it seem colder than the forty-plus degrees the outside thermometer read.

  She’d known from the insistence in his voice and the intensity in his eyes that this wouldn’t be a pleasure walk. She’d been right, though she hadn’t expected the topic of their conversation.

  Eve slowed her pace. “I never heard that Orson’s mother had committed suicide,” she admitted, “but I can see how that, coupled with the failed parole attempt, might induce rage in a man like Orson.”

  “Rage that led to his attacking you three weeks after his mother’s death.”

  “So you’d already considered the correlation between the incidents?”

  “Yeah. It makes sense in a sick sort of way,” Sean said, “especially if he was close to his mother.”

  “He talked about her during the therapy sessions,” Eve admitted. “I got the sense that she was an enabler who contributed to his failure to accept responsibility for his actions.”

  “I thought psychopaths were born,” Sean said, “and Orson sounds like a psychopath to me.”

  “The nature-versus-nurture argument is unimportant now, where Orson is concerned, but I’m not certain he’s a true psychopath. He was twenty-eight when I found any evidence that he’d first been in trouble with the law, and that was when he murdered his stepbrother. Usually, psychopaths start showing signs of poor behavior control that get them in trouble with authority figures much earlier in life.”

  “Brand him what you want. The most important thing for me is keeping him away from you and Joey.” Sean stopped walking when they reached the woodshed. He took Eve’s hand and tugged her to a spot where the dilapidated structure blocked the worst of the wind.

  His touch tangled with her emotions—heat against ice, desire against frustration.

  “I know I came on strong last night, Eve, but you going back to Dallas with Orson still on the loose is too big a risk. There is no reason for you to leave the ranch. You’re safe here.”

  “But for how long?” She leaned against the rough wood and propped one foot on the wall behind her. “Everyone predicted Orson would be back in prison by now. He’s not. If he’s really after me as Detective Conner said, then he’ll find me. One way or another, he’ll track me down unless he’s stopped first.”

  “You said yourself that he’d never think to look here. And if he does, you have me, Troy and Dylan to protect you.”

  “With Orson, that might not be enough.”

  He brushed a windblown lock of hair from her face. His fingers lingered on her earlobe and his nearness consumed her. She tilted her head and met his gaze. His eyes were compelling, liquid depths she could drown in.

  Unless her intuitive abilities had completely deserted her, the same urges that were buzzing through her were affecting him, too. He dropped his hand from her face and looked away.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” she asked.

  “A little, but probably not important.”

  “What else did Wyatt tell you?”

  “Orson has a sister living in San Antonio.”

  “Really? I had the impression he was an only child.”

  Eve listened to the facts about Alyssa Coleman. The decision was made even before Sean finished the explanation.

  “I’m going to San Antonio and talk to Alyssa,” she said.

  “No way.” Sean’s muscles bunched, making his virile protectiveness even more pronounced.

  “I have to talk to her,” Eve insisted.

  “What’s the point? I’m sure the cops have already questioned her. Obviously, they didn’t learn Orson’s whereabouts from her, and there’s no reason she’d tell you anything she didn’t tell them.”

  “Maybe not intentionally, but if I can talk to her face-to-face, I may be able to figure out if Orson is still on his killing spree as Conner thinks, or if he’s left the area or the country altogether.”

  “And you plan to just come out and ask her these things? ‘Hi, Alyssa. I hear your brother is out to kill me for blocking his parole. Want to get cozy and tell me how he’s doing and where he’s hiding out?’”

  “She might want to tell me. For all I know, she could be just as afraid of him as I am. In any case, I need to talk to her. I won’t even tell her who I am. It’s not likely Orson carries my picture around in his wallet to show at family reunions.”

  “The cops may have a picture of you supplied by Detective Conner, and they’ll be watching Alyssa’s house just in case Orson is stupid enough to show up there.”

  “Then I’ll visit her at work.”

  “There’s no guarantee the cops aren’t watching her there, as well.”

  “I’ll go incognito.”

  “In what? Sunglasses and a hat?”

  “Collette has a Mrs. Santa suit I can wear. The customers will think I work at a department store. Even Santa won’t know me from the real thing.”

  “What about Joey?”

  “I’m sure Collette will watch him for a few hours. He won’t like my leaving him, but he’s used to Collette and Troy, and even Dylan now. You saw how easily he left me to go feed the horses.”

  “I don’t like it,” Sean said.

  “You can go with me or not, Sean. That’s your choice. But I am going.”

  “I don’t get it. Why take this risk when you don’t have to, Eve? Why can’t you just let me protect you?”

  She linked her arm with his, craving his strength and needing him to understand.

  “The longer Orson remains free, the gre
ater the chance he’ll find me. Even if you and Troy kill him before he hurts anyone, the violence will touch Joey. I can’t let that happen—not if there’s even the slightest chance I can do something to stop it.”

  Sean pulled her into his arms and held her so tight she could feel his heart beating against her chest. When he finally released her, he tangled his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck.

  “Okay, Mrs. Santa. Go get ready and I’ll load the sleigh.”

  “Ho, ho, ho.” But she wasn’t laughing on the inside.

  EVE REARRANGED HER short white wig, pulling the wiry strands of fake hair from beneath the fur collar. Visiting Alyssa Coleman might be a good idea, but this costume was not.

  “How much farther?” she asked when they entered San Antonio.

  “It should be right in this area.”

  “What’s the name of the shop?”

  “If Wyatt mentioned the name this morning, I missed it, but we’re near her house, so we have to be near the shop.”

  “That could be it,” Eve said, pointing to a green awning on the right side of the street.

  Sean slowed and pulled to the curb. A sign on the walk outside the door announced that eggnog lattes and gingerbread coffees were the specialties of the day.

  “You’ll fit right in, Mrs. Santa, though with that pot belly, I’d lay off the calories.”

  “Not funny.” She checked her reflection in the visor mirror one last time. “You have to admit I was right about being unrecognizable, though.”

  “I expect Dasher and Dancer to show up any minute.”

  “There are no reindeer in Texas.”

  She wrestled with the yards of red velvet while Sean held the door. A passing car honked. She looked up and waved cheerily. She might as well get into the spirit of the costume.

  Sean followed her up the short walk and through the door. They were met by delightful odors of coffee and treats baking in the oven. A display counter was filled with muffins, tarts, cookies, pies and layers of fresh gingerbread.

  To Eve’s surprise, the few patrons inside paid her and her costume little attention. Most were working at computers. A middle-aged woman was reading, and two young mothers were deep in conversation while their babies slept next to them in their infant seats.

  To Eve’s dismay, there was no sign of Alyssa, not if she still looked anything like the snapshot of her Sean had found on the computer. Even bypassing Austin traffic, it had taken them over two hours to get here, and it might all be for nothing.

  A perky blonde stepped to the counter. “What can I get for you?”

  “Just black coffee for me,” Sean said.

  She smiled and leaned over the counter provocatively, providing a glance of her assets. Eve wasn’t surprised. A female of any age would have to be blind not to notice and get turned on by Sean.

  “Is the coffee for here or to go?” the blonde asked.

  “For here.”

  “In that case, have a seat anywhere and a waitress will be right with you to take your order.”

  Eve chose a table toward the back, so that the overhang from her bulky skirt wouldn’t trip passing customers. A couple of minutes later, an equally vivacious and friendly waitress showed up at their table. Eve ordered a caramel latte, iced. She was perspiring under the costume.

  “Is that all?” the waitress asked after she’d taken their orders. “The blueberry muffins are fresh out of the oven.”

  “Sure smell good,” Sean said, “but I’ll pass. Is Alyssa working today?”

  “She’s in the back, on break. Do you want me to get her for you?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “No problem.”

  Eve leaned toward him as the waitress hurried away. “That was smooth.”

  “You wanted to talk to Alyssa. I’m just trying to help.”

  She had wanted to see her. She still did—only, now that they were here, she had no idea how to handle the confrontation.

  Alyssa joined them and surprisingly slid into a chair next to Sean as if she were expecting him. Her expression was strained and the dark circles beneath her eyes made her look as if she hadn’t slept for days.

  She spread her hands on the table. “Did Frank send you?” she whispered. Sean nodded.

  If he was Frank, Eve wasn’t the only one going incognito.

  “Did you bring the money?”

  He nodded again.

  Eve had no idea what was going on.

  “All five thousand dollars of it?”

  “Just like you asked for.”

  Alyssa scanned the shop nervously. “We can’t make the exchange here in the open.”

  “We can go to my truck. It’s parked in front.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll go to the ladies’ room. Follow me in there and we’ll make the exchange. Don’t worry. Once you step through the arch, no will see which door you go in. And it locks.”

  Sean hesitated and Eve finally realized what was going down. Alyssa had mistaken Sean for someone else and he was playing along, hoping to get information about Orson.

  “Not so quick,” Eve said, keeping her voice low. “Before any money changes hands, we have to know where Orson is hiding out.”

  Alyssa’s face turned ghostly white. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “It is now,” Sean said.

  “I don’t know where he is. He’d never tell me that. I’ve agreed to all your demands. But I have to have that money.” She started to shake, then looked to see if anyone was watching. “Please. I’ll do anything you say, but I must have that money.”

  The woman was scared to death. Eve was certain that Orson was behind that fear. “I have the money with me,” she said. “I’ll follow you to the bathroom.”

  Alyssa walked away and Sean grabbed Eve’s wrist. “What are you doing? I’m not sure what this is about, but we’ve pushed it as far as we can.”

  Eve stood, her skirt bouncing about like a red parachute until it knocked over a chair. This time people did turn to look. Eve took that opportunity to break loose from Sean.

  “I’m giving her the money. Pay our tab and I’ll meet you in the truck.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Probably.”

  Sean caught up to her before she reached the bathroom door. “Crashing the ladies’ restroom is a first for me, but Alyssa is the sister of a madman. You are not going anywhere with her without me.”

  Eve stepped inside, took the money from her oversize handbag and counted out fifty one-hundred-dollar bills while Sean watched. It was all the money she’d taken with her when she left Dallas, but she couldn’t think of any better way to spend it.

  “Take care,” Eve whispered to Alyssa as she walked out of the ladies’ room. “And stay safe.”

  She and Sean hurried through the shop and out the door.

  He put a hand to the small of her back. “You just handed a woman you don’t know five thousand dollars for, oh, let’s see—zero information.”

  “And the money will go straight to Orson. And when it does, hopefully a cop will be there to make the arrest. I’ve given Detective Conner the bait he wants. All he has to do is trail Alyssa, and when she hands Orson the money, the cops nab him.”

  “That was fast thinking on your part,” Sean admitted.

  “About as fast as you becoming Frank. Now, how about getting Wyatt on the phone so he can put me in touch with Detective Conner?”

  “Who knew Mrs. Santa was a detective at heart?”

  “Who did you think squeals to Santa when you’ve been naughty or nice?

  ONCE EVE HAD FINISHED her conversation with Detective Conner, she yanked off the wig and the hat and tossed them into the backseat. “The detective didn’t sound all that appreciative,” she said as she began wiggling out of the suffocating costume.

  Sean cursed the traffic that forced him to keep his eyes and attention on the highway. “What did he say?”

  “That I should not have gone to
see Alyssa and that I was interfering with police business. Then he thanked me for calling.”

  In seconds, Eve had stripped down to pair of black slacks and a white T-shirt. Sean stole a look. Even in that she looked sexy, especially with the tips of her bare nipples outlined beneath the thin fabric.

  “What did the detective say when you told him you expected to get your money back?”

  “That he couldn’t guarantee anything. Bottom line, he still thinks the surest way to apprehend Orson is for me to return to Dallas.”

  “An invitation that you surely turned down.”

  “That’s when I told him that I thought I’d done my part. The rest was up to him.”

  Sean reached across the back of the seat and ruffled her hat hair. “You’re pretty amazing.”

  “I thought you’d never notice.”

  “Seriously, you’ve held together great through all this. I can see now why Troy thinks so highly of you.”

  “He’s your father, Sean. Would it be that difficult to just call him ‘Dad’?”

  “More difficult than you can imagine.”

  Sean plunged into his own thoughts while Eve put through a call to Collette to check on Joey. Eve was a great mother.

  Like his mother had been. He had trouble remembering her face these days. Instead, the images were confused with the dozens of pictures of her his grandparents had kept on display.

  What Sean remembered about her were moments, prisms of love captured in time. Her hair falling about his face when she kissed him good-night. Her voice when she sang along with the radio. How she’d stay up with him when he was sick and read him stories.

  How she’d cried with him when Sinbad had gotten sick and they’d thought he might have to be put down. Mom had been love.

  Troy had been his hero, a man’s man, the guy Sean had always looked up to. Making his father proud of him had been the greatest feeling in the world.

  And then it had all come crumbling down into a pile of ash that still poisoned his mind. So, yes—it was impossible to look at the man and call him “Dad.”

  And dwelling on this would get him nowhere.