Dropping the Hammer Read online

  Luke blinked hard to hold back the tears as he folded the letter and slipped it back in his pocket.

  It didn’t change everything, but it was the best look he’d ever gotten into his dad’s mind. The first time Alfred had ever told him he loved him or was proud of him.

  * * *

  THIS PART OF the parking lot at a small neighborhood grocery store was nearly empty as the elderly woman opened the back seat of her car and deposited her handbag and a shopping bag.

  Roy waited until she was settling behind the wheel before he approached her car from behind. She closed her door and started the engine. He jumped from behind her car and dived into the back seat where she’d put the packages.

  “What do you want?” Her voice trembled.

  “A ride.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Your worst nightmare.” Roy pulled the sharp carving knife from his boot holster and flashed it for her to see.

  She screamed.

  He fit his hand around the back of her neck. “Shut up now or I’ll cut out your tongue. Do exactly as I say and you won’t get hurt. Leave the engine running and get out of the car. Call the cops and I’ll come back and kill you.”

  He took his hands from the woman’s neck. She jumped from the car, started to run, then slipped and fell. The back of her head hit the concrete, and blood splattered everywhere.

  Roy gunned the engine and sped away. He’d hide out until it was full dark and then he’d take the back roads to Winding Creek. He’d wasted too much time already, only to learn that she’d quit her job. No luck at her apartment, either. No sign of movement and no lights had come on at dark.

  He wouldn’t take the risk of getting past the apartment’s security only to break into an empty apartment.

  He figured his next best hope of finding her was at the Double K Ranch. Esther Kavanaugh wouldn’t have hesitated to take her in. Hopefully he’d find Rachel and Esther alone in the sprawling ranch house.

  Roy loved the way the news kept saying he couldn’t possibly have escaped the infamous barred asylum. They’d underestimated him. Everyone always did.

  He laid the knife on the seat beside him and ran his index finger along the razor-sharp edge. The crazy thing was he hadn’t even had to use it to escape. The meanest guard in the place had worked it all out for him.

  The guard had sent him through the gates in the back of a truck carrying medical waste that no one ever wanted to look in or to touch.

  Roy wasn’t afraid. He was in his own bag with only a few air holes to let him breathe.

  It was all in the way you played the game.

  All Roy had had to do was promise to kill someone for the hated guard. He might even keep the promise.

  But first he’d take care of Rachel Maxwell. People who betrayed you must pay.

  Mommy would be proud of him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Luke took one bite of the stew, and his tongue caught fire. He forced himself to swallow. “Wow!”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Love it. It’s a little spicy and maybe a tad too much salt, but that’s the way I love it.”

  Rachel dipped her spoon into her bowl and took a bite. She didn’t swallow, but ran to the sink to spit it out. “It’s horrible. How could you say you loved it?”

  “I’m tactful?”

  “I followed the recipe except that Esther doesn’t have real measurements. She says pinch of this, tad of that, a handful of this, a dozen peppers.”

  “A dozen peppers. What kind of peppers?”

  “Jalapeños.”

  “She told you to use a dozen jalapeños?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t have that many, so I added the two jars of sliced ones we bought at the store.”

  “That explains the fire.”

  Rachel checked the recipe. “Oops. There is a tiny little hyphen between the one and the two. Don’t know how I missed that. I thought twelve sounded like a lot.”

  “I’m sure if you hadn’t misread the recipe the stew would have been delicious.”

  “I guess I’d best not offer any to the hired protection.”

  “Not if you want them to save you. Tell you what, I’ll make us a BLT sandwich. The guys seem to have all they need except a bathroom in that fancy van of theirs.”

  “They assured me they didn’t need a thing,” Rachel said. “But a BLT sounds good to me. I actually can fry bacon and I’m a whiz at slicing tomatoes.”

  “But how are you at toasting bread?”

  “You’re just plain making fun of me now.”

  He walked over, wrapped his arms around her waist and nibbled on her earlobe. “I would never do that. So how about you start frying and slicing and I’ll go lay a fire in the fireplace? Might as well add a romantic touch to our gourmet meal.”

  “You do realize there will be a shortage of privacy,” Rachel said. “You never know when one of the guards will need a bathroom break.”

  “Yes, but I have something I want to talk to you about and it’s still a little muddy to take a walk in your cute little suede booties. You’ll have to get a pair of real cowboy boots if you’re going to make it on the ranch.”

  A stupid comment. He’d had to practically force her to come home with him this time and she was in danger. He’d had no indication from her she was interested in leaving her lush Houston apartment for the boondocks.

  “You sound serious,” Rachel said. “Is this about Roy Sales?”

  “No.”

  “Then start the fire.”

  * * *

  RACHEL’S JAW CLENCHED as she started frying the bacon. Her stomach churned. It was her typical first reaction at anything to do with a fire.

  She was with Luke. She could do this.

  By the time they were cuddled in front of the fire and munching on their sandwiches, her impulsive fears had dissolved. Luke kept the talk pleasant with no mention of Roy or the security personnel standing guard over the house and immediate surrounding area.

  When they’d finished eating, he walked over and stoked the fire. Before sitting down, he took a folded letter from his back pocket and handed it to her. “Esther gave me this Tuesday. She was supposed to give it to me when Alfred died, though I’m not sure why he was so confident she’d outlive him or exactly why she decided to give it to me now, but she did.”

  “It must be personal,” Rachel said. “Are you sure you want me to read it?”

  “I’m sure.”

  She unfolded the letter and started to read. Tears filled her eyes before she reached the end.

  “He told you a lot in a few words,” Rachel said. “A lifetime of regrets.”

  “So it seems.”

  “The two of you must have always had a strained relationship.”

  Luke sat back down beside her. “We never really had a relationship of any kind. I don’t remember having one meaningful conversation with him. Nothing except complaints about whatever I tried to do. I finally started doing things that angered him on purpose.”

  “Your mother must have felt the same heartbreak you did.”

  “I blamed Alfred for her death. He drove her away. She died before the two of us could have a life that offered more than endless putdowns.”

  “And yet he sounds sincere when he says he loved you both. That must touch you.”

  “It does. I’m not sure what our chances are of ever having anything that approaches a father/son relationship, but maybe there’s a chance for us to live together in some sort of harmony. At least I’m willing to try.”

  She squeezed his hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. “What game was he talking about that he missed? It has clearly lain heavy on his mind for all these years.”

  “My high school baseball team was playing in the state championship. I was to be the pitcher and
several major league scouts were going to be there to watch me pitch. It was the biggest day in my life to that point, one that could have affected the rest of my life.”

  “Why didn’t he go?”

  “He was doing the spring roundup and branding that day. The plans were made before we knew we were going to state. He’d hired the extras he needed. When I told him I wouldn’t be around to help, he exploded. The ranch was everything to him and he thought it should be to me, too. He told me if I went to the game, I didn’t need to come home.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “What about your chance to play professional baseball?”

  “I blew it. I didn’t even graduate, just drove up to Austin after the game and joined the marines.

  “It was a long time before I even admitted to myself that I wasn’t only furious. Finally admitting to myself that he cared nothing about me and would rather I be out of his life devastated me.”

  “Of course it did. You were only eighteen. That game was the biggest thing in your life.”

  “Crazy thing is, now that I’m back here on the ranch, I realize I never hated ranching. It’s likely in my blood as much as it is in his. I was just tired of life the way it was.”

  “So much hurt,” Rachel said. “So much misunderstanding. So many years lost.”

  Luke put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

  At least Luke knew what he wanted to do with his life now. She didn’t, but she was having serious doubts about ever going back to criminal defense.

  It was a worthy profession. It saved many innocent people from being punished for crimes they didn’t commit. It forced the courts to present solid evidence and then hope for the jury to make sound decisions.

  Sometimes they failed. Most of the time they didn’t.

  It just wasn’t the life for her, at least not now. Maybe it never would be, but she had plenty of time to make up her mind.

  She couldn’t wait where Hayden Covey was concerned. It wasn’t fair to him or his parents. Right or wrong, she was not convinced of his innocence. Eric Fitch Sr. would represent him far better than she could.

  She’d call Claire Covey tonight.

  Now all she had to worry about was a madman who wanted her dead.

  * * *

  RACHEL’S PHONE RANG in the wee hours of the morning, waking her from a sound sleep. She sat up in bed and grabbed her phone. “Hello.”

  “This is Sheriff Cavazos. I’m calling about Roy Sales.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Rachel’s heart pounded.

  “What about Roy Sales?”

  Luke sat up in bed beside her, his hand on her back.

  “He’s dead,” Cavazos said.

  She couldn’t have heard that right. Sales didn’t die. He tortured and ruined lives. He murdered. “Are you sure?”

  “I pulled the trigger that sent the bullet through his brains myself.”

  “Sales is dead,” she whispered to Luke. “I’m switching the call to Speaker so Luke can listen in,” she told Cavazos.

  If she’d had any hope that people in Winding Creek didn’t know she was sleeping with Luke, she’d just blown that.

  “How did it happen?” she asked.

  “Good law enforcement. I knew you had those high-dollar guards over at Pierce’s cabin, so I had deputies watching the main gate and the back gate at the Double K Ranch. I figured if Sales came to Winding Creek looking for revenge, he’d show up at Esther’s spread first.”

  “Really?” That surprised Luke. “From what Sales’s psychiatrist said, we figured his first strike would be against Rachel.”

  “Exactly. We think he tried her apartment first and must have found out she wasn’t there.”

  “How do you know that?” Rachel asked.

  “A man fitting Sales’s description carjacked a woman in a parking lot a few blocks from your apartment. She was found bleeding from a head wound and with a concussion. Sales’s style of brutality, though she says she fell as he drove away in her car.

  “She still managed to ID him for the officer who showed up to investigate,” Cavazos continued. “The report was all over law enforcement wires. He ditched the car about thirty miles from Winding Creek.”

  “So he ditched one car, picked up another and headed to Esther’s place,” Luke surmised.

  “Yep,” Cavazos said. “It was common knowledge Rachel and her sister spent some time at the Double K Ranch with Esther after Sales was first arrested.”

  Rachel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m having a hard time getting my head around the fact that Roy Sales is really dead.”

  “I understand that after what he put you through. But it was going to happen sooner or later,” Cavazos said. “I’m just glad it happened before he hurt or killed someone else. Too much evil stewing around in his sick mind.”

  “I don’t see how anyone could argue with that,” Luke said.

  “I s’pect you’d have enjoyed dropping the hammer on him yourself, Luke. Probably better I beat you to it. Less paperwork and headaches for you.”

  “No doubt,” Luke agreed.

  “I’m heading over to Pierce’s house now,” Cavazos said. “I figure I’d best let them all know what took place at their back gate this morning. I could use some hot coffee, and one of Esther’s breakfasts would taste mighty good this morning, too. It’s been a long night.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get breakfast,” Rachel said, “along with many thanks. I’m still practically speechless, so I know I’m not doing an adequate job of thanking you myself.”

  “That goes for me, as well,” Luke said. “I plan to be moving to Winding Creek permanently. If there’s ever anything I can help you with, all it takes is a call.”

  “Careful what you offer,” Cavazos said. “Never know when I might need to deputize a former medaled marine. Even a small, friendly town like Winding Creek gets hit by trouble every now and then.”

  “A little too often for me,” Rachel said.

  “Yes, but you can let those high-priced gun-toting gorillas off your dime. You’ve got nothing to worry about now. We’ll talk more soon.”

  Cavazos made it sound like a done deal. She knew the trauma of her time in captivity wouldn’t disappear in an instant. But for the first time she was confident that she’d move past it.

  She cuddled back in Luke’s arms. But not to sleep.

  They made love until the sun shot its first golden rays over the horizon. Time enough to release the bodyguards that she hoped never to need again.

  * * *

  HAYDEN COVEY WAS watching from a well-hidden spot when he saw a white van carrying two men drive down the hard dirt ranch road and approach the Arrowhead Hills Ranch gate. The passenger who got out to unlatch the gate did not look like your typical Texas cowboy.

  He was missing the familiar Western hat but was wearing a pair of stylish aviator sunglasses. He wore a black long-sleeved T-shirt over jeans that looked like they’d never seen a horse or even a lot of wear, for that matter. A large semiautomatic pistol was holstered at his waist.

  Looked like a security guard to Hayden.

  The lawyer babe must really be running scared if she was hiring protection. Guess her own cowboy, the guy called Luke something or other, wasn’t tough enough to keep her safe from the crazy guy who was after her.

  Not that it mattered to Hayden. He wouldn’t be dealing with Luke. He liked things one-on-one with the odds always in his favor. He’d teach that bitch to give him the runaround and then turn against him.

  He was getting enough crap from the homicide detectives. He wasn’t about to take it from her. Besides, he’d never even be suspected of killing her. She already had a genuine nutcase killer after her.

  He put his earphones back in his ears an
d let the banging background bass get him even more stirred up. He’d been driving most of the night. He needed to stay awake a few more hours.

  He drove to the gate, got out and swung it open before getting back into a stolen car and barreling over the cattle gap.

  A stolen car that would never be traced back to Hayden.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rachel pulled the sheets from the bed in Alfred’s room. The thin drapes needed laundering, as well. Better yet, they should be trashed. She’d see what kind of replacement she could find in town or online.

  In her mind, the best homecoming for Alfred would be a house that was spotlessly clean from floor to ceiling. Luke had his own ideas about what Alfred needed on the functional side.

  He’d just left to go talk to one of the wranglers about some special feed they needed for the quarter horses. He was driving into town then to pick up the feed and some safety support rails and grab bars to install in the bathroom and anywhere else Alfred might need them.

  There was plenty of work to do, but Rachel couldn’t keep from humming as she added the sheets and some detergent to the washing machine.

  There was really no reason she was still here now that she was out of danger. No reason except that she was unemployed and had no reason to rush back to Houston. The main reason she was still here was Luke, not that she expected what they had going for them was permanent. He’d never mentioned forever, and things were too unsettled for either of them right now to make firm plans for the future.

  The front door creaked open as she started the washer.

  “Back so soon?” she called. “What did you forget?”

  The footsteps grew louder. There was no answer. She walked back to the kitchen. Hayden Covey was standing there, a black briefcase in his right hand.

  His clothes were rumpled, as if he’d slept in his car. He looked around as if sizing up the place.

  “I wasn’t expecting you this morning,” she said. “Didn’t your mother give you my message?”

  “You mean that message where you said to hell with me, you had your own problems?”

  “I’m sure you know that’s not what I said. I explained everything to your mother. I know she was upset, but I thought she understood that I was not in a good place to represent you. Eric Fitch Sr. will do a much better job.”