Deep in the Heart (22 page)

“Not me,” he said. “Hell, honey. We might just haul them trailer, cows, and all into jail. After all, those cows are evidence, right?”

“You haven’t changed a bit, Johnny Knight. You’re still a devil, aren’t you?”

It was good to hear laughter in her voice instead of the despair and panic that had been typical during the past few weeks.

“Oh, I can be real good when I have to, Sam,” he said softly, then bent down and gave her a good-bye kiss. “Remember last night?”

Even after the echo of his footsteps on the stairs had long since disappeared, she was still smiling…and remembering.

12

A
FEW HOURS LATER
, a knock on the door startled her. Samantha stuffed the last of her biscuit in her mouth as she raced to answer it. When she opened it, shock nearly choked her as she tried to swallow the bite she’d been chewing.

Monty stood on the threshold with hat in hand and a self-conscious look on his face. “The boss sent me to get him a change of clothes.”

Samantha stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. As he did, he began to look around in appreciation.

“You’ve made this place real homey.” He smiled. “I guess it just takes a woman’s touch. I’ve been in my apartment a lot longer than you two and it still looks like I haven’t unpacked.”

She’d known that sooner or later she’d have to face Monty again. Oddly enough, the meeting wasn’t as strained as she’d expected.

“Why does he need clean clothes?” she asked.

Monty grinned, which made him look even younger than he was.

“It got real messy trying to get those four rustlers out of that trailer full of steers. One of them even fell down in the middle of ’em, and we had the devil’s own time getting him up before he got a hoof in his mouth.”

She laughed aloud. “Let me guess. John Thomas was in the thick of it all, right?”

Monty nodded. “Yes, ma’am. And he got green cowsh—” He caught himself just in time and blushed as he rephrased his explanation so that it would be proper for a lady’s ears. “What I meant to say was, he has some fresh manure on his jeans and shirt.”

“He shouldn’t have made you come after the clothes. He could have done it himself,” she said.

“Oh, no, ma’am.
He
only needed a change of clothes. They sent me home to take a bath. I was the one who had to get the damned, I mean, darned rustler up from the floor of the trailer. I even had it in my hair.”

That explanation was all it took. Samantha looked at him, picturing the stampede it must have been, and started to laugh. She laughed until tears ran. And when she thought she couldn’t laugh anymore, all she had to do was look at the sheepish expression on his face and it started all over again.

It would seem that in this part of Texas, cow manure and officers of the law had a magnetic attraction to one another.

“Oh Lord,” she gasped, holding her side. “I’ll go get his clothes, and I guess I should thank you for coming here after you bathed, and not before.”

Monty grinned. “Yes, ma’am. You might be right.”

She started out of the room then turned. He looked so ill at ease and out of place, her conscience dug at her.

“Monty…”

“Yes, ma’am.” He had a guilty expression on his face.

Samantha guessed that he expected her to question him about what she’d overheard. Instead, she surprised herself as well as him.

“I started to say, since John Thomas isn’t coming back to eat them, you’d better see what you can do toward finishing off the rest of the biscuits. There’s fresh coffee. Clean cups are in the drainer. I just put the butter and jelly in the refrigerator. Help yourself. It’ll take me a while to get his clothes together. I’ll have to iron a shirt.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Monty said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Monty,” she said. “And stop calling me ma’am. Call me Samantha or Sam, or Hey You. Anything but ma’am.”

“You’ve got it,” Monty said, and headed for the kitchen.

When she came out a few minutes later, Monty had finished off what was left, washed the dirty dishes, and replaced the butter and jelly.

“Here you are,” she said, handing him a pair of jeans and a clean shirt to take to John Thomas, then noticed how neatly he’d cleaned up after himself. “You’re real handy to have around. If you’re anywhere close by at supper time, you might think about coming home with the sheriff to eat with us. I’ll cook if you’ll wash.”

He grinned. “Sounds good, but I’ll have to see,” he said. “I never know what’s going to happen around here. Thanks for the food and the clothes.”

She saw him to the door, watched until he’d disappeared down the stairs, and then found herself staring straight into Claudia’s face as the door to the other apartment opened.

“Hi there,” Claudia said. “Suffering any lasting effects from your near-miss yesterday?” she asked.

It took Samantha a moment to remember that she must be referring to the fact that she’d nearly broken her neck on the stairs.

“Thanks to you, no,” she said.

Claudia nodded. A silent moment passed and then she grinned as if she’d just had the greatest idea.

“Say, what are you doing this morning?” Claudia asked.

Samantha shrugged. “As usual, probably nothing, why?”

“This is my day off,” Claudia said. “I’m on my way to New Summerfield to buy myself a new outfit. I finally got enough money saved to get my bus ticket home, and I have no intention of showing up back there with my tail between my legs. Figuratively speaking of course.” She wiggled her eyebrows and traced the red outline of her lipstick with her little finger as she continued. “So would you like to come with me? I know you don’t get out much.”

Samantha didn’t answer. She was shocked by the invitation, and then wondered why Claudia knew so much about her. The moment she thought it, she got her answer without asking.

“I’m a light sleeper,” Claudia said. “Sometimes I hear you moving around in here. It doesn’t bother me. I just hear it, you know. I always go right back to sleep.”

Samantha sighed. It would seem that everyone knew her predicament.

“I’m not sure about the shopping,” Samantha said.

“If you don’t know it already, it’s only fair to tell you that being seen with me might get you into trouble. In case you haven’t heard, someone wants me dead.”

“Lordy!” Claudia’s eyes widened and her big red mouth formed a perfect “O.” And then she shrugged.

“Honey, I’ve been in a lot worse messes than that and I’m still here to tell the tale. If you want to go with me, then come on. I’ve got a black belt in karate.”

Samantha laughed. She couldn’t help it as she tried to superimpose the image of all those blond curls, that giggle, and the ditsy attitude over a ninja outfit.

“It’s true, I do!” Claudia said, and put her hands on her hips. “So, are we on, or what?”

A small spurt of defiance surfaced. Samantha was sick and tired of the stalker calling the shots. And although she knew John Thomas would throw a fit and tell her not to go if she asked, she knew there was nothing he could do if it was after the fact.

“Just let me change clothes,” Samantha said.

Claudia closed her own door and followed Samantha into her apartment. “You don’t need to change,” she said, eyeing the tennis shoes, blue jeans, and the pale yellow blouse Samantha was wearing. “You look just fine.”

Samantha looked down at herself, and then shrugged. “If you say so, but I need to leave Johnny a note.”

Claudia nodded. While Samantha was busy composing her note, she set her purse on the table beside her, and began walking around the apartment, staring curiously, but careful not to touch.

“The rooms in this place all look the same, don’t they,” she said.

Samantha mumbled in agreement. she was still trying to find a way to tell John Thomas what she was about to do and make it sound like a good idea.

Claudia shrugged and continued her casual snooping. But when she came to the open bedroom door, an empty expression swept across her face as she looked inside at the bed.

In that moment, if Samantha had been watching, she might have changed her mind about accompanying Claudia to New Summerfield. But she wasn’t, and when she finished John Thomas’s note, Claudia had collected herself and her thoughts and was all smiles.

“Okay,” Samantha said. “I’m ready. We won’t be long, will we?”

“Oh no. I’ve got packing to do and a bus to catch. I’m going home, remember?”

They started out the door when Claudia made a quick pivot. “My purse!” she shouted, and flew back to the table where she’d left it. She grabbed for the strap, and as she did the flap opened, spilling the contents over table and floor alike.

“Shoot,” she muttered, as Samantha waited by the door. “It’s a good thing I don’t drop things like this at Marylee’s or I’d have been out of a job.”

“Need any help?” Samantha asked.

“I’ll get it,” she said, and grabbed everything in handfuls, hastily stuffing them inside to be sorted out later.

Samantha stared absently down the stairwell and missed seeing Claudia grab her note to John Thomas and stuff it into her purse along with the rest of her things.

“Let’s go,” Claudia said, pulling the door shut behind her. “Better lock up. Can’t be too careful these days.”

Samantha locked the door, then moments later they were outside. Once there, she dubiously eyed the old black pickup Claudia had been driving. It didn’t look as if it would make it across the street, let alone out of town on a shopping spree.

“Want me to drive mine?”

“No way,” Claudia said, and started toward her borrowed truck. “It’s my trip. We’ll use my gas. Come on, time’s wasting.”

Samantha shrugged and followed. As she crawled into the dusty seat, she suddenly wished she had a good excuse for backing out. But other than the fact that she was having second thoughts about what John Thomas would say, she couldn’t think of a plausible reason. And she did need to buy some things that were unavailable in Rusk.

They drove off in a cloud of dust.

“Boy oh boy, Sheriff. You’ve had a real busy week,” the lawman said, as he packed the last of the rustlers into the state vehicle for transportation to a larger holding facility. “Your dispatcher tells me y’all have shipped off a crazy man, had yourselves the makin’s of another Johnson County War, senior-citizen style, and now you’ve caught yourself some rustlers. But, oowwee,” he backed up and wrinkled his nose in protest as he slammed the back door of the van shut and locked it, “the least you could have done was hose ’em down before you locked ’em up.”

John Thomas grinned. “We did. You should have seen and smelled them beforehand.”

The lawman laughed and shook his head. “Have a good one,” he said, and waved as he drove away.

John Thomas watched until the taillights were no longer visible, and then started toward his car. He wanted to go check on Sam.

“Sheriff! Telephone,” Carol Ann yelled.

He spun in midstep and headed back into his office to pick up the phone.

“Sheriff Knight.”

“Hey, there, cowboy, how are you doing?” Mike Pulaski asked.

“Pulaski?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, unable to hide the lilt in his voice. “I’ve got a little bit of news for you. It’s not much, but it’s a definite lead.”

John Thomas stood up. He could use some good news. “Let’s have it.”

“It seems that the last person to be seen outside Miss Carlyle’s apartment before it blew up was a cleaning woman.”

John Thomas sighed. This wasn’t going to help him a damned bit.

Pulaski grinned. He’d heard the sigh.

“Now, don’t quit on me before I’m through,” he warned. “Just let me finish. The thing is, this is a mid-to low-income apartment complex. We questioned everyone, and I mean everyone. No one had that day, or for that matter any other day, ever hired a cleaning woman. The only person we didn’t ask was Samantha Carlyle. Now, I’ve been thinking, why would a woman who was afraid of her own shadow hire some stranger to come inside her home and clean?”

John Thomas’s expression darkened. “Are you telling me that there’s a possibility that our stalker might be a woman?”

“You tell me.”

“Damn!”

Pulaski grinned. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

“Thanks for the information,” John Thomas said.

“I’ve got something I need to do, and it can’t wait. If you learn anything else, let me know. And Pulaski…thanks.”

Pulaski grinned again. “No thanks needed. Besides, I owed her. I hope it helps.”

“So do I, man. So do I,” John Thomas said and hung up the phone.

Then he picked it back up again and dialed his apartment. It rang several times with no answer.

“Well, damn,” he muttered, and checked the time.

It was nearly noon. Samantha was probably out in Rusk doing some shopping or getting a bite to eat. She hated to eat alone and obviously assumed he would be busy today. Just to make sure, he would drive by and check before he went to the farm. He had a sudden need to look at the hate mail again that Samantha had received.

It didn’t take him long to cruise by the apartment. His pickup truck was right where it was this morning when he’d left for work. Either she was still in town on foot, or upstairs taking a nap, and waking her up would just deter his mission. The urgency of the entire situation changed his mind about stopping. There wasn’t any more time to waste.

But when he got to the farm, the empty silence of the old house made him nervous, and unearthing the letters and tapes from the stalker made it even worse. He began rereading them from a different perspective and realized that they could as easily have been written by a woman. In fact, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Not one of the letters made any sort of sexual reference to Samantha Carlyle. But every one of them was full of venom and hate, just the kind of reaction a vindictive woman might make, even down to the part about dying to cleanse her soul.

At the thought of Sam dying, he headed for the phone. Once again, there was no answer at the apartment and it was getting late. Where could she be?

As he listened to the unanswered rings, to his dismay, he realized that not one of the people they’d checked out in Cotton or Rusk had been a woman. In fact, he wasn’t even sure how many new females had come to town.