A Stolen Chance (11 page)

She turned, a timid smile on her face. “You’re a tempting man, Carson Rhodes, but I better go in. Thank you for listening.”

“You’re welcome. And hey, to be on the safe side, you’ll continue to be known as Shannon, even to me, until your ex is behind bars again.”

She nodded.

“Don’t forget to keep your bear on at all times. Even in the shower.” Hell, the image of White Bear between her naked breasts made him need a shower—a cold one.

“I will.”

****

Susan, deep in thought, watched the fish swim by on her screen saver. Had she done the right thing? Confiding in Carson had lifted a load off her mind and eased her heartache somewhat. Did the attraction to him spell danger of another kind—a broken heart? She’d have to be careful, guard against becoming too involved, too dependent, in case she had to run again.

Her skin warmed at the memory of his kisses. They’d been intense and caring—not designed to turn her on but to simply love her, enjoy her. She’d felt cherished in his arms. Yes, he was good—heady medicine.

She chuckled.
Get your head out of the clouds, Susan.
She hit Enter on her laptop’s keyboard, waited for the search screen to appear, and then typed in Susan Lawton. The screen flashed a page full of hits, the most current a video news clip. Susan clicked on it and waited for it to load.
Come on, come on.
Her fingers drummed against the table until the advertisement finished. She gasped when her parents appeared in the footage.

Arms around her mother, her father’s voice boomed from the speakers. “...we love you, Susan. Do not contact us.” His voice choked. “We’re grateful to know you didn’t die in that fire.”

A reporter asked, “Mr. Lawton, your daughter could give detectives information on who set the fire. Don’t you think that’s important?”

“Of course I do. We’re very sorry for the death of the woman in Susan’s home, but I know my daughter did not kill her. I’ll not have my child coming forward and revealing her location to that deranged ex-husband of hers.”

Susan’s mother pushed closer to the microphone. “I want to know why the police haven’t caught Dewayne Holt and locked him in a cage where he belongs. He’s the one they need to concentrate on.” Mouth twisted with pain, she looked up at her husband. He patted her shoulder. “Then our baby will be able to come home.”

Susan brushed tears off her cheek and chuckled. Leave it to her mother to jump to the root of the problem. Oh, how she missed them. It meant the world that they knew she lived and understood why she remained in hiding.

Two men replaced her parents in front of the mike. The taller and skinnier of the two spoke. “I’m Detective Haney, and this is my partner Detective Williams.” He turned to her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Lawton, though we understand your concern for your daughter, we desperately need to talk with her. Miss Lawton, if you’re listening, please contact us at...”

****

It had been three days since their visit to Zuni Pueblo. Carson was itching to get into the storage shed and go through Grandpop’s things. Leona and Buck would leave on vacation in a few days, so he’d better get busy at it while he could find the time. He’d just finished scrubbing down the bar when Shannon strolled toward the kitchen counter, her dirty dishes in hand. “You don’t have to do that. One of us will clear them for you.”

“There’s no need to wait on me all the time. Anyway, it’s time I started paying rent. Your website is about done. I’ll be uploading it to the web today. Plus the time period we discussed is about up.”

Dread filled Carson. He didn’t want her to leave. “You’ve got another week. Anyway, you’re safer here where I can look out for you.”

He took her hand and led her through the kitchen. “George, if you need me, I’ll be out back.”

“Take your time. The rush is about over.”

The fresh air cooled Carson’s heated skin. He glanced at Shannon and saw her shiver. Pulling her to his side, he ran his hands up and down her arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist. He breathed in her sweet scent and spoke into her hair. “I don’t want you to leave.”

She drew back, searching his face. “I don’t plan to leave. I just can’t keep freeloading.”

“You’re not—”

“I know. But the website is finished. I want to start paying for the cottage and my meals. I insist.”

Her expression mulish, Carson decided he’d better agree. “All right. We’ll work out something. I’ll give you the long-term rental rate.”

“Good. Now that your site is finished, there will be very little to keep me busy. Oh, we’ll have emails for reservations, and possibly some comments posted that will need responding to, but not enough to keep me busy. I’d like to do some sightseeing in the area.” Her accounts would take up some time, but not enough to keep her occupied.

“I can help with that. I’d be happy to show you around, take you to places you won’t find listed in that tour book of yours.”

She cocked a brow. “Is that so?”

“It is. Gramps took me to places he visited as a boy where you can see ancient petroglyphs that are protected by the local tribes. Only the locals are allowed to venture onto the land. If they get special permission, that is, and I think I can get us that authorization.”

“Hmm, are you trying to bribe me?”

“Could be.” He traced her lip with a finger. “I might have an ulterior motive, one other than keeping you safe, that is.”

“Stop that.” She stiffened, grabbed his hand, and linked her fingers through his. She shot him a dirty look.

“Hey, I didn’t mean what you’re thinking. Get your mind out of the gutter, woman.”

She relaxed against him.

“And another thing. I want you to go through Grandpop’s stuff with me. Help me look for clues to his past and who the fetish collection originally belonged to.”

Her face brightened. “Oh, I’d love to help you with that. I enjoy old stuff—papers, dust, digging for information.” She stepped back and tugged on his arm. “Lead on to the storage shed.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. He grinned. “Let me check in with George and make sure I’m not needed for awhile. I’ll grab a small heater while I’m at it. It’ll be cold inside.”

****

Dewayne gagged and rushed outside to the balcony. Head over the railing, he threw up into the bushes below.

God, what an awful mess. Who knew that blood and gore looked so gross? Hell, or smelled so bad? He shuddered and drew in deep gulps of fresh air. Damn, he’d better get out of here.

He stumbled back into the plush second-story bedroom, averting his eyes from the body sprawled on the king-sized bed as he did so. Leo Sharp shouldn’t have any complaints. Dewayne had followed the mobster’s instructions to the letter. His wife knew who’d ordered the hit on her life. She’d cussed like a sailor before Dewayne delivered the final blow that killed her—a knife to the gut. He guessed Leo didn’t want to bother going through a divorce, and extracting revenge for her filing with a lawyer was a bonus.

Dewayne glanced around the room, looking for items of value to steal. He might as well make a little extra money, since he’d stuck his neck out and would soon be wanted for murder. He rifled through the jewelry box on the vanity but found only cheap pieces of junk. Shit. She probably hid the good stuff in a safe.

He stomped to the closet and shoved clothes around, leaving smears of blood as he did so, until he found what he searched for—a safe. He pulled the lever and laughed with glee. The stupid bitch didn’t even lock her good stuff up.

A pair of running shoes sat on the floor underneath the clothes. He lifted a dirty sock and started filling it with jewelry. Man, old Leo had spent the bucks on the woman. He might not be too happy if Dewayne took too much. Leo probably intended to give most of it to his new honey.

Sock loaded, he jogged down the dark stairs and maneuvered his way out the back. He left the door open so the cops would think it had been unlocked. The key Leo had given him would join DeWayne’s bloody clothes. The mansion backed up to a busy road that bordered the lake. He’d parked in a turnoff by a jogging trail. At his truck, he peeled off his bloody shoes and jumpsuit and stuffed them in the black trash bag, then weighted it down with several bricks from the truck bed. His latex gloves and hunting knife joined the other items. He pushed all the air from the bag and tied it in a double knot.

Yanking open the cab door, he tossed the trash bag onto the passenger floorboard. The sock landed on top, and he stepped into the shoes he’d placed just under the steering wheel. The pickup started at the first turn of the key.

Dewayne breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out into the traffic. His debt to Leo Sharp was paid. The man better leave him alone now. He had more important things to do.

****

The child’s death mask danced before his eyes. Her mother’s screams bounced against his skull, back and forth, never stopping. “No, no, dear God, no...”

Something wet and cold nudged Carson’s neck. Hans whined. Carson reached out and rubbed the dog’s neck. “I’m okay, boy.” Han’s warm tongue swiped across his face.

Carson jerked up in the bed. Would the nightmares never stop? He’d give his life to bring the child back, to stifle her mother’s cries of rage and grief. “Ugh. Enough.” He turned to sit on the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands, then lifted it to glance at the clock on the nightstand. It read two a.m.

He stood and strode to the refrigerator. Hans hugged his leg as Carson surveyed the shelves of the icebox. “Want a bowl of milk, boy?”

The dog gave his version of a snort and backed up.

Carson chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”

Without troubling himself to get a glass, Carson drank a healthy slug from the gallon container. His mother would have had a fit. She’d caught him often enough as a teenager. He still missed her. He’d been in college in Albuquerque when she died of cancer. Aunt Leona and Uncle Buck moved into her small home in Gallup to help his dad so Carson could finish out his senior year. He owed them a great debt. His father passed a year later. At least he’d died quickly, didn’t suffer long. A massive heart attack killed him within seconds, or so the doctor claimed. Carson sighed and put the carton back in the refrigerator.

Back in bed, he stared up at the ceiling.
You can’t change the past, Carson. You’ve got to deal with it and move on.
Easier said than done. Department investigators had found him innocent, not to blame for the child’s death. He’d been fully exonerated. Their assurances didn’t ease his conscience. If only he could put it behind him, let it go. But he couldn’t. It invaded his mind at the oddest times, while working, reading a book, watching television. And then there were the times a child laughed, or one gazed up at him with innocent eyes seeing clear through his soul... He shuddered.

What would Susan think if she knew he’d killed a child? Would disgust be reflected in her eyes? Did he care what she thought or felt?
Hell, yes, I do.
More than he wanted to admit.

Tomorrow he’d convince Susan to contact the police in Chicago. He’d call Captain Farley and ask him to find out whom to contact. He’d let him know she suspected a leak in the Chicago department and in the Chicago FBI office.

No doubt about it, he was invested in Susan and her situation. He’d do everything in his power to help her and protect her from Dewayne Holt.

Chapter Eleven

Susan stared into her coffee cup, the brew as dark as the issue on her mind. Should she trust Carson’s Captain Farley to keep her location secret? Problem was, the man couldn’t control everyone he came in contact with, could he?

She glanced up to find Carson eyeing her. He lounged, one hip braced up against the lunch counter, arms folded across his chest. Heat from his stare warmed her. Unable to look away, she let his gaze hold hers, draw her under his spell, heating her blood as his kisses had the day they went to Zuni Pueblo.

Suddenly her mouth was dry, and she swallowed. She moistened her lips with her tongue. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she froze in mid-swipe. He smiled, and Susan prayed he couldn’t see the flush that rose in her face.

She closed her mouth and smiled back just as George nudged Carson. Without looking away from her, he listened to the man. With a nod in her direction, he turned to follow George into the kitchen.

Susan watched him go, admiring the breadth of his wide shoulders and the view of his trim hips and muscular legs as he retreated from her sight. The man was beyond sexy—a temptation she longed to explore. If Dewayne knew she cared about Carson, he’d kill him just to hurt her. Though Carson could take care of himself and showed no fear of her ex, he didn’t know how evil Dewayne could be. She mentally shook herself. No, she wasn’t going to go down that road. Rather than dwelling on what-ifs, she’d enjoy the time she had available with Carson and his family.

They’d gone through several boxes the day before without finding anything of value to Carson’s search. Carson had taken an old scrapbook filled with newspaper clippings from WWI into his cottage with him. Maybe he’d glean some helpful information from them. There were still more boxes to go through. She looked forward to checking them out. She loved sorting through old things with the possibility of finding some treasure or relic.

Right now she needed fresh air. A walk over to the abandoned motel would help her think. Hans trotted along with her. She enjoyed the dog’s company but looked back wondering whether Carson cared if he left with her. He watched them leave and waved.
Guess that answers my question.