Satin & Saddles (16 page)

She just stood where she was.

“I said come here.” He strode for her when she didn’t move, and she waited for him to come closer.

When he towered over her she wondered if she’d made a mistake in thinking she could get away with her plan. The moment he looked down at her, she brought her hands up and shoved the handfuls of soap into his eyes.

He shouted, the soap now burning his eyes and blinding him, and he lunged for her. She dodged out of his way as he cried out, “I’m going to kill you, bitch.”

She ran for the bar that had rolled against the wall. He swung out his foot and tripped her. She hit the wood hard and skidded across the floor then scrambled to her hands and knees and powered herself toward the bar. She picked it up with her hands that were slippery from the soap but managed to hold onto the bar.

He was still cursing and wiping soap from his eyes as he stumbled toward her. She got to her feet but he was too close to hit with the bar. Bright red narrowed slits were all she could see and she could tell he was still nearly blinded by the amount of soap she’d managed to get in his eyes.

As he reached out to grab her, she twisted away and moved behind him. She almost slipped and fell from soap that had plopped onto the floor. He turned just as she swung the bar. She aimed for his head and it hit with a sick thunk against his skull.

He dropped to the floor and didn’t move. She whirled and ran for the door, glancing over her shoulder but he was still down.

Heart beating a thousand miles per hour, her soapy hands slipped on the doorknob. She wiped her hands on her jeans and tried again. She managed to jerk the door open and run for the front of the house, the way she remembered him carrying her in.

“I’m going to kill you, Carly,” came his voice as he came out of the room, stumbling and cursing. His heavy shoes thumped on the wooden floor, coming closer and closer.

She made it to the front door, her whole body shaking. Adrenaline raced through her body, giving her a boost of speed. She turned the knob, flung the door open, and ran outside the house and into the night.

A killing rage ripped through Geoff as he ran after Carly. His eyes burned like a sonofabitch and he could barely see through the burning tears. He came to a stop on the front porch. It was dark and she wouldn’t be able to get far considering she had no idea where she was.

He paused long enough to grab the hose from the front of the house, turn on the water, and flush as much soap as he could out of his eyes.

When he could see again, he called out, “Carly, there’s nowhere for you to go. You might as well come back.” He paused and listened but heard nothing. “I know you’re close. There’s no getting away from me.”

He’d threatened to kill her. Time to change tact. “I’ll forgive you, baby, if you come back to me now.” He couldn’t help his voice from hardening. “You don’t want to make me mad.”

She might have started down the road. It was dark but there was enough moonlight to see the ruts that would lead her to the highway if he didn’t get to her first. He dug in his pocket for the keys to the old truck then climbed inside, started it, then headed down the road.

The last couple of days had been hell as he’d dealt with the sheriff questioning him again and all the other shit he’d had to go through.

And now he was chasing the bitch. His truck’s headlights bounced off the road and the trees. “Shit,” he said as the truck hit a big pothole. He couldn’t see her anywhere and his eyes still burned like hell.

When he got his hands on her he was going to throw her to the ground, wrap his hands around her neck, and choke her until the light went out of her eyes.

The headlights shone on pale skin as he saw her flash through the trees bordering the road. He pulled the truck over, jumped out, and tore after her.

Terror had Carly’s heart beating so hard that it felt like it would come out of her chest and her breathing came harsh and fast from running.

Geoff would kill her if he caught her, she knew that much. It had been in his eyes from the moment he found the loosened bar in the headboard.

Headlights flashed through the night, accompanying the rumble of a truck’s engine. She looked over her shoulder and the lights hit her full on, blinding her for a moment. She turned, spots sparking in her vision. She tripped over a tree root and hit the ground hard.

The sounds of the truck coming to a stop and then a door slamming echoed through the night. She scrambled to her feet and charged forward. Branches scraped her face and hands but the flannel shirtsleeves protected her arms. Sharp rocks and sticks poked her bare feet that hurt as she dodged trees and bushes, only the palest of moonlight guiding her way.

She’d been in the bushes and trees, following the road, hoping it would lead her to the highway or some other place where she could find people. But Geoff had obviously guessed her intentions and had seen her through the brush. She should have gone farther into the trees away from the house instead.

The crashing of someone charging through the bushes and trees behind her told her that he was closing in on her. She tried to run faster, only to trip again, landing on her hands and knees. She pushed herself up and started forward when something big slammed into her back.

She screamed as she went down again, this time feeling as if her ribs were being crushed and the wind was knocked out of her when she hit the ground. She took a deep gulp of air as he turned her onto her back.

In the faint moonlight she saw the killing rage on his face. She screamed again and he slapped her so hard that light sparked behind her eyes.

“Bitch,” he shouted, just before he wrapped his hands around her throat.

* * * * *

The real estate agent, Boyd Sharpe, called Dillon in the evening. He sounded unsure as he said, “It might be nothing but I remembered something.”

Dillon’s mouth tightened. He was parked a short distance from Burnside’s home, just waiting for the man to leave, hoping he’d lead the way to where he’d hidden Carly. Dillon refused to believe that she was harmed.

“What is it?” he asked Boyd, tension accompanying the surge of hope that came with the man’s words.

“Burnside tried to rent the old Chevus house just north of Harshaw about five hundred yards off Harshaw Road. Pretty isolated spot,” Boyd said as he gave Dillon the location. “The owners backed out but they’re gone for a good six months. Maybe he took her there.”

Dillon stared at Burnside’s home. Lights burned within the house and the SUV was still parked in the driveway. “Thanks, Boyd. I’ll check it out,” Dillon said then disconnected the call.

Part of him wanted to keep an eye on Burnside, but the other part hoped Boyd had just told him where Carly was being held. He started the truck, pulled onto the street, and headed in the direction Boyd had told him to go. During the fifteen-minute drive Dillon called the sheriff who warned him not to go near the house and to let law enforcement take care of it.

To hell with that. Dillon drove his truck well over the posted speed limit. It was so dark that he passed the turnoff and had to turn his truck around. He headed up the dirt road, praying he’d find Carly.

He’d gone a short way before he saw headlights in the distance. He drove farther and pulled up to a beat-up truck, the door left open. The engine was still running, the headlights shining into the trees.

His heart started beating faster as he climbed out of the truck and paused to listen. A scream tore through the night.

Carly. He was sure the scream had to be from her.

He charged in the direction of the scream, tearing through bushes and trees. She screamed again, closer this time, and he heard a man’s angry shout.

Dillon broke free of the trees to see a man straddling a woman on the ground, his hands around her throat.

It only took an instant to see that it was Carly and the man on top of her was Burnside.

Dillon came up from behind the man and grabbed his collar, jerking him away from Carly. Burnside lost his grip on her neck and she made choking sounds as Dillon dragged him to his feet.

Dillon jerked Burnside around, drew back his fist and slammed it into the man’s face. Burnside’s head snapped to the side. Before the man could recover, Dillon hit him with his other fist.

Burnside shook it off and bull rushed Dillon, hitting him hard in the gut and knocking him up against a tree trunk. Dillon grabbed Burnside’s head and pulled it down at the same time he brought his knee up. Burnside shouted and jerked away, stumbling back, rage on his face.

Dillon started after Burnside again, just as a heavy branch slammed into Burnside’s head. The man dropped and went still on the ground.

Carly stood over Burnside’s body, the three foot long thick branch gripped tight in her hands like a baseball bat.

Dillon rushed to Carly. She dropped the branch as she met him halfway and he grabbed her tight as she flung herself into his arms. He kissed the top of her head as she buried her face against his chest. As he held her he kept his eye on Burnside to make sure he didn’t get up.

“You found me.” Her voice sounded tight with tears.

“Thank God.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Carly. I can’t imagine what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “I love you, too,” she finally managed to say when she realized it was the truth. She did love him, more than she could remember loving anyone.

He kissed her, a sweet, loving kiss that caused her mind to spin.

The sound of vehicles coming up the road and then parking by the trucks was followed by the slam of doors.

“Over here,” Dillon shouted when he drew away from the kiss. He held Carly with one arm as he waited. “That’s got to be the sheriff,” he said to her. “I called him on my way here.”

She started trembling in his grip and he pulled her tighter to him. Flashlights flickered off of trees as footsteps crashed through the brush and then moments later the sheriff and several deputies arrived.

Dillon looked down as Burnside stirred. From the corner of his eye he saw Carly raising the branch she’d used to clock Burnside.

Still holding her, Dillon stepped back. “Let the sheriff take care of him now.”

By her expression, he knew she’d be happy to beat Burnside with that branch, but she let it fall to the ground.

A pair of deputies went straight to Burnside and jerked his hands behind his back to cuff him.

Cooper swept his gaze over Carly. “Are you okay, Carly?”

She nodded and looked up at Dillon. “Now I am.”

Dillon squeezed her to him and the sheriff gave a nod. “I’ll call for an ambulance,” Cooper said.

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll take her to the hospital,” Dillon said as the three of them walked back toward the trucks and the two sheriff’s department cars. The red and blue lights were flashing now, reflecting off the foliage.

“Are you up for some questions?” Cooper asked as Dillon opened the truck door and boosted Carly into the seat.

She nodded. “Yes.”

The sheriff questioned her about her ordeal as a pair of deputies escorted Burnside to one of the cars. His face was bloody, his eyes starting to swell shut. Just before they pushed his head down to guide him into the back seat, Burnside’s eyes focused on Carly and hatred was in his gaze.

Dillon felt Carly shudder next to him. “Bastard,” she said under her breath as she stared at Burnside.

“Are you finished?” Dillon asked the sheriff.

“For now.” Cooper nodded to Carly. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Dillon kissed Carly then shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

* * * * *

Carly sat on the edge of a chair in the sheriff’s station and smiled at Dillon. “Like the doctor said last night, I’m fine.”

A wealth of emotion traveled through her as he lightly touched the bruises on her face. “I’d kill the bastard for hurting you if I could get my hands on him again.”

The sheriff walked up to them and perched on the edge of the desk they were sitting next to. It was the afternoon following the “ordeal” as Carly now thought of it.

“We found a thumb drive hidden in the house last night and did a preliminary exam of it early this morning,” Sheriff Cooper said. “We discovered pictures of other women and they weren’t pretty. I won’t go into detail but what you said was true. Burnside has done this before. Not only were there pictures, but he’d kept detailed records about each woman he’d kidnapped and murdered. We’ve already been in contact with law enforcement agencies in L.A., Tucson, and Phoenix, where the women were from according to Burnside’s records.”

Carly shivered from the chill that rolled down her spine. She could have been one of those women.

“If he’s tried and convicted here in Arizona, and he did in fact rape, torture, and murder those women, he’ll likely be facing the death penalty,” the sheriff said.

Dillon nodded. “That’ll save me from killing the bastard.”

Cooper didn’t respond to Dillon. Maybe he felt the same way. Instead, he turned to Carly and offered her a smile. “Anything else you can remember?”

She shook her head. “I told you everything I can think of.”

“If you do think of anything else, you call me.” The sheriff stood and Carly and Dillon got to their feet.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” she said as she extended her hand and he gripped her hand then released it.

“You and Cameron did all the work.” Cooper studied Dillon and shook his hand. “I’d tell you that next time you should let us do our job, but you saved this lady’s life.”

“There’d better not be a next time,” Carly said and looked up at Dillon. “Once in a lifetime is enough.”

“The view is beautiful.” Carly smiled at Dillon who was astride his Appaloosa, Bridget next to the one she was riding, Peaches.

It was five months after the ordeal with Geoff and she no longer looked over her shoulder as if she was still being watched. She was strong, though, and had put it behind her and moved on to the satisfaction of her counselor.