Sara's Song (27 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Sara's Song
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Tom was too late. Both men watched the shower of sparks that shot upward as Nellie Pulaski's ancient truck plowed down the gates and roared up the driveway.
“Son of a bitch!” Adam swore as he ripped open the door, Izzie and the pups in hot pursuit. Tom Silk brought up the rear. Humans and dogs skidded to the side when the heavy-duty truck ground to a halt. A section of the gate that was attached to the side of the truck fell to the ground with a loud crashing sound.
Nine pairs of eyes watched as Sara Killian leapt from the truck, gun shaking in her wobbly hand. Izzie howled her displeasure. Sara cupped her right hand with her left hand to steady the gun. “Try and kill me will you, you sneaky bastard. Well guess, what! I'm alive and I'm standing here. I'm the one with the gun. You move even a muscle and it's all over. My sister could have been killed! She's in the hospital. Is that damn song worth my life or my sister's life? No, it is not. Fear and intimidation are not going to work on me, Mr. Lord.”
“What are you talking about? Is that gun loaded?”
“You're damn right it's loaded. Watch this, you son of a bitch!” Without a moment's hesitation Sara fired off three shots, nipping Adam's bare toes. Tom Silk danced backward as Izzie and her pups ran for cover. “The next one will get you right between the legs. I've got two more clips so don't . . .” Sara grappled in her mind for a word Carly would use to make her point. “Don't
piss
me off. You know what, you're right. I do have the song. Guess what else, you bastard. You aren't getting it! All you people do is lie, cheat, and steal. What you did to my car is attempted murder. Don't even think about trying to tell me you didn't do anything. I damn well know you did. The only trouble is, my sister was driving my car. My baby sister. I've looked out for her all her life, and I have no intention of letting some lowlife shark like you change things. I will not tolerate it! Do you hear me?” A second round of shots filled the night air.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
She looked after her baby sister all her life just the way he'd looked after Dallas. That must mean something.
“Oh, yeah, right. Like I'm really going to believe you. I don't. I'm reporting you to the police, and you can pull your dumb act on them and hope they believe your story, because I certainly don't. Now, I'm going to tell the whole world about that damn song. How do you like that,
Mister Lord?
Your big mistake was messing with my sister. I told you not to move. Do it again, and you'll be bleeding. I know just where to shoot you. I know just how much blood will pour out. I won't lift a finger to help you. In case you forgot, I'm a doctor.”
“Listen to me. I didn't do anything to your car, nor did I do anything to your house. I did not have anyone do it for me. I'm truly sorry about your sister. I can account for my whereabouts the day of your break-in. Now, put that gun away before you shoot someone.”
“Don't tell me what to do,” Sara said. She wavered then, aware of how her legs were trembling and her hands were shaking. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the damage the gates had done to Nellie's truck. Another bill. Tears welled in her eyes, but the gun in her shaky hands remained at attention. Everything caught up with her then. A sob ripped out of her throat as her knees crumpled. Within seconds the dogs surrounded her, yipping and yapping as they tried to lick at her tears and cuddle into her arms. Izzie stood sentinel until she saw Tom Silk move to the side. Only then did she nuzzle her neck, forcing Sara to stroke her silky head.
“Who do these dogs belong to?” Sara gasped.
“Me,” Adam said.
“You!”
She made the single word sound like he was the devil from hell.
“Do you find that strange?”. What he found really strange was that Izzie and the pups seemed to love her. Maybe it was. a female thing. Suddenly he felt jealous. He snapped his fingers for Izzie to come to his side. The spaniel lifted her head, stared at him, but remained where she was.
“Of course I find it strange. Dogs are supposed to be shrewd judges of character. Call your dogs. I need to call the police.” Sara stared at the gate panel and winced. “I'm not paying for that gate either. We'll call it square for what you did to my house.”
Adam watched as Sara maneuvered until she was on her knees, the gun in her left hand. Tom reached out an arm to help her, but she waved him off with the gun. He backed away immediately.
“When are you going to get it through your head that I had nothing to do with your robbery? Stop playing Annie Oakley and let's go into the house and have some coffee and talk about this rationally.”
“I'm calling the police. I want them to know where I am. Just in case. Coffee will be fine,
Mister Lord
. I'm partial to Irish Cream.”
His hackles rising, Adam said, “We can handle that, can't we Tom?”
Just in case.
What the hell did that mean?
“Yeah. Yeah, we can handle that.”
The gun steady in her hand, Sara said, “I'll go in last. I'd appreciate it if you'd quiet those dogs. This whole thing is giving me a headache.” She felt like Gumby, Carly's favorite childhood toy, as she walked into Dallas's kitchen. She had one bad moment when she remembered how Dallas had tried to impress her with his spaghetti dinner. It all seemed like so long ago. She needed to sit down. The headache was fast becoming a reality.
Sara chose a seat behind the table that would allow her to watch the two men and the dogs. If Adam Lord was telling the truth, she had nothing to fear. If he was lying, she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life by coming indoors with these two men. They were bigger and stronger and could overpower her in seconds.
“How would you like your coffee, Doctor?” Tom asked, his eyes on the gun in Sara's lap.
“This isn't a social visit, gentlemen. Black. Strong and black.” She wondered if she were losing her mind. What sane person would do what she'd just done and then sit down and have coffee with someone she felt was trying to kill her?
Tom backed toward the kitchen sink. Adam sat down across the table from Sara. Elbows on the table, he cupped his chin on top of his closed fists. If his gaze was uneasy, it was because of the gun in Sara's lap. He listened to the drip of the coffee going through the filter before he spoke. Sara held up her hand for silence as she rummaged in the black bag for her cell phone. First she called the hospital and spoke to Nellie. Satisfied that Carly was sleeping, she then called Detective Luzak. She listened, her eyes narrowing.
Adam watched in disbelief as Sara's arm came up to the table level. The gun was pointed dead center with his heart. Perspiration beaded on his brow as he heard Sara say, “Please Detective Luzak, I want you to repeat what you just said tc me to Mr. Lord. By the way, I'm sitting at his kitchen table. Yes, Dallas Lord's house in the canyon. I'll stop by in the morning to pick up your report for the insurance company. Just a second, and I'll put Mr. Lord on the phone.”
Adam reached for the cell phone, his eyes never leaving the gun pointed at his chest. He listened, anger raging through him. He thanked the detective, ending the call before he snapped the phone shut. He slid it across the table. “I didn't do it, Dr. Killian. The only thing I am guilty of is trying to buy the song from you. If you had told me the truth from the begining, we wouldn't be sitting here now as adversaries.”
“You could have had someone do it for you. People like you don't dirty their own hands. I don't trust you. The song is worth millions of dollars. People kill for a lot less.” She gulped at the coffee. It was so hot her eyes started to water. It was the best coffee she'd ever tasted.
Adam leaned across the table. “I'm getting damn sick and tired of hearing you and your sister refer to me as quote ‘people like you.' You make me sound like I sprouted from hell. I'm as normal as you are, as normal as Tom here. I am not an attempted killer nor do I know anyone who is.”
Sara held out her cup for a refill. “Those are just words. Instead of worrying about a song that doesn't even belong to you, maybe you should be trying to find the person or persons who are trying to kill me and trying to frame you at the same time. If what you say is true, and I don't for one minute believe it is.” She snorted, a very unlady like sound. Dallas Six hopped onto her lap and started to lick her face. Her face softened, and she smiled at the fat puppy, tweaking him behind her ears. “Your brother would have loved this little dog, Mr. Lord.”
She's pretty
, Adam thought. Strange feelings coursed through him. If his brother had been in love with her, he could understand why. The sudden urge to gather her close and whisper that things would be okay made him blink. He watched as she finished the coffee and held out her cup a third time. Was it his imagination or were her eyes getting glassy? He turned in time to see Tom pour Irish whiskey into the cup before he added the coffe. He mouthed the word, NO, but it was too late. Sara held out her hand for the coffee cup. Tom shrugged and handed it over.
“That coffee is going to keep you awake. Why don't I drive you home, Doctor?”
“Drive me home! Not likely,
Mister Lord
. Besides, we haven't finished our business. You were going to give me a list of places and people who can vouch for your whereabouts the past few days. Let's do that right now. Tomorrow I'll personally check it out.” The gun moved imperceptibly but was still rock-steady. Dallas Six was asleep in her lap. Sara slurped from the coffee cup, then squinted, trying to bring Adam's face into focus. She couldn't remember ever being this tired. The events of the past few days had taken a terrible toll on her body. Nellie had said she looked like she'd been through a meat grinder. She had to go to the bathroom, too. How was she going to do that with a sleeping dog on her lap and a gun in her hand?
Adam slid the paper across the table. Sara pretended to study it, but the words ran together in one large blur. She folded it with her free hand before she jammed it into the black bag. “I'm going to leave now, gentlemen. Get your dog off my lap. On second thought, I'll put him down myself. Ohhh, whoops,” Sara muttered as she struggled to remain upright, the gun in her left hand swerving all over the place.
“Is the safety on that gun?” Adam asked nervously.
“No, it is not,” Sara said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. “I'm a crack shot. So is my sister. Women need to protect themselves from people like you.”
“That does it! Sit down, Dr. Killian, before you fall down. In case you haven't noticed, you are as drunk as the proverbial skunk. You are in no condition to drive anywhere.”
“Drunk! Me! You must have me confused with Dr. Granger. I sip at wine. I never even finish my glass. So there. Why are you saying that?”
“Because we didn't have Irish Cream coffee and because Tom was trying to please you, he added Irish whiskey to your coffee. I think you had about four double belts. I apologize, and Tom apologizes. You can sleep it off in any one of the bedrooms.”
“Oh, no. I hate this house. It's not . . . it's not . . . cozy. I like cozy. You got me drunk. Are you planning on having your way with me? I have a gun! See! I want to go home. I have to check on my sister. Nellie is going to need her truck. You really are a bastard. You aren't getting that song. Nobody is getting it. I'm going to burn it. What do you think of that? When I burn it, will you leave me and my sister alone?”
Adam's fist crashed down on the table. He totally ignored the gun in Sara's shaking hand as he grasped her by the shoulders. “One more time, Dr. Killian, I did not have anything to do with what's been happening to you. I think you are absolutely right, and you should burn the song. I'll be finishing up my business here in the next few days, at which point I will return to Charleston with Mr. Silk and the dogs. I'm going to sell this house and donate the money to a retired musicians' fund. I don't know if Dallas would approve of what I'm going to do or not. So you see, what you do or don't do with the song is up to you. For whatever it's worth you have my apology for intruding into your and your sister's lives.” The gun was in his hand the next second. “When you sober up I'll give this back to you.”
“A likely story,” Sara hissed. She threw her hands in the air. “Go ahead! Shoot me! See if I care! Well, what are you waiting for?”
Adam removed the clip from the gun. He stuck it in his trouser pocket before he marched over to the oversize black bag. “Good God, it's a wonder you don't have a permanently dislocated shoulder. What in the hell is in there?”
“None of your business. My life. Carly's life. I carry it with me all the time so people like you can't . . . don't . . . My bag is none of your business.”
Adam felt his eyes start to burn. “Sit down, Sara. Tell me about your bag. I used to have a briefcase I carried with me all the time. I still have it. Who are you, Dr. Sara Killian? I really want to know. Let's sit down here with the dogs and . . . talk.”
“I thought you said I was drunk. Why would you want to talk to a drunk?”

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