Silk and Spurs (12 page)

Jessie reached again for the root as she clung to Ed’s legs with her other arm. Her arms burned with the effort of hanging on. Adrenaline pumped through her system, giving her more strength to cling to him.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the root as he tried to kick her off again. “Help me, Phoebe.” Then he shouted as he shook his leg, “Get off me, bitch!”

Ed slipped again and Jessie cried out and grabbed onto him with both arms as he dropped another few inches.

“She’s holding on to you?” Phoebe said, a sob in her voice. “You know I can’t pull you up if she’s weighing you down. I don’t think I can pull you out even if she wasn’t.”

“Just help me, Phe.” He sounded like he was close to sobbing. “Help me.”

Jessie stretched for the root again.

“I can’t help you,” Phoebe cried. “I love you, Ed, but I can’t help you.”

“Phoebe, no!” Ed shouted. “Don’t!”

Jessie pushed off from Ed and leapt for the root. Her fingers clasped onto it just as Ed lost his hold and dropped.

She clung to the root but Ed caught her by her ankle, breaking her grip.

They plummeted.

She screamed as they fell. She was going to die.

But at least Ed wouldn’t get out of this alive.

She slammed into Ed’s body, landing on top of him.

Her head hit something hard and her vision blurred.

The screaming pain in her ribs and head told her that she was alive.

She was alive.

Groans rose up inside her and tears rolled down her wet cheeks.

Ed didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. He could have been knocked out but she didn’t feel his chest move beneath her. She raised her head and looked into his eyes. They were wide open.

The sonofabitch was dead.

Through the ringing in her ears, she heard screams coming from above.

“Ed!”
Phoebe’s screams.
 

And then they stopped. A moment later it started to grow darker. Phoebe was putting the boards over the well.

Pain and hopelessness made Jessie dizzy and her teeth chattered from the cold that seemed even worse now. She was alive, but no one would ever know she was here.

Her vision started to waver and then fade. And then she was gone.

Chapter 14

“Where the hell is Jessie?” Zane said to more to himself than Wyatt as he looked from the closed-in porch out into the late afternoon rain. “She’s over four hours late.” Zane took his cell phone out of the holster on his belt and dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail.

His gut twisted. Something wasn’t right.

“How long has she been gone?” Wyatt asked.

“Since early this morning.” Zane held up his cell phone. “And she hasn’t called.”

“She could have been caught in the rain,” Wyatt said.

“Maybe. But it’s a light rain, not enough to keep her from driving home.” Zane re-holstered his cell phone. “Why is her phone going directly to voice mail?”

“Probably bad reception or her battery is dead,” Wyatt said.

Zane nodded. He knew those were the logical explanations. Then why did he have a sick feeling in his gut? He’d always listened to his gut instincts and they were telling him that he needed to go check on her. “She could have fallen down an old abandoned mineshaft if she wasn’t careful, or a building could have collapsed on her if she inside and leaned on a post wrong.”

“Could be.” Wyatt took a deep breath. “You could wait, or we can head that way. We might meet her on the road. Maybe she ran out of gas.”

Zane said, “Or she could still be out photographing. There’s plenty to take pictures of, but I just don’t think it’s enough to make her this late.” He walked toward his truck and climbed in as he made up his mind. “I’ll drive toward Camp Washington.”

Wyatt nodded. “Right behind you.”

Zane’s jaw ached from clenching it so tight as he drove in the direction of the ghost towns. The farther he went without meeting her somewhere along the way, the tighter his gut became.

The rain started to come down harder now and his windshield blades went back and forth, back in forth, wiping away the water that was only to be replaced by more water. He tried to call her, but again it went straight to voice mail.

Wyatt stayed up with him, his truck a few length’s behind Zane.

When he neared the ghost towns, Zane spoke to Wyatt on his cell and they split up. Zane took Duquesne and Wyatt went to Camp Washington.

In places where rain hadn’t washed them away, he saw more than one set of tire prints in the ghost town. One of the sets had to be Jessie’s Mustang.

When his cell rang he hoped it was Jessie then saw on the caller ID screen that it was Wyatt. “I see a set of tire prints,” Wyatt said. “No other sign of her.”

“Same here.” Frustration made Zane’s muscles tense as he drove in the direction of another abandoned building. “I’ll do a little more driving—”

He spotted a flash of red ahead. As he came closer to it, he realized it was Jessie’s red Mustang.

“Found her car.” A rush of relief went through Zane followed by a tightening of his gut. She’d be there. She had to be there.

“Where?” Wyatt asked and Zane gave him directions before he hung up.

He brought his truck to a stop behind Jessie’s car and he got out of his truck and went toward the abandoned building and called out her name.

The rain pounded down but his hat kept water out of his eyes as he looked down at the ground. He narrowed his gaze. The rain was rapidly washing them away but from the impressions in the earth it looked like there was more than one set of tire prints, and footprints. A sick feeling churned in his belly. Something was wrong.

He called out to Jessie again. No answer. He strode around the building, calling her name. He looked in windows, squinting to see in the darkness, but he didn’t find her.

The sound of an engine broke his concentration and he looked to see Wyatt’s truck driving up the road and he parked beside Zane’s vehicle.

“What’s going on?” Wyatt asked when he saw Zane coming around the corner of the building. “Where’s Jessie?”

Zane shook his head. “She’s not here.” His expression grim, he pointed to multiple footprints and the extra set of tire tracks. “Someone else was here, though.”

“She came in her car,” Wyatt said, “But it looks like she left with someone else.”

“What the hell happened here?” A sense of fear for Jessie rose up in Zane. “What happened to her?”

“Damn.” Wyatt dragged his hand down his stubbled face.

Zane thought for a moment. “There might be a man involved.”

With a frown, Wyatt said, “What man?”

Zane let out a breath. “Jessie took photos of Phoebe kissing another man.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes.

“While she was still engaged to me,” Zane said. “I saw the photos and the kiss wasn’t innocent.”

Wyatt sucked in air through his teeth. “Anything else?”

Zane shook his head. “I’m wondering if this guy has anything to do with Phoebe, the gunshots, and now Jessie missing.” Zane clenched his jaw as he made a decision. “I’m going to Phoebe’s place,” he said. “If she knows anything about this, I
will
find out.”
 

•  •  •

The drive to Phoebe’s home from the ghost towns took too damn long. His mind kept churning, his heart pounding, and a sick feeling settled in his gut. Jessie had left her car and had gone off with someone else. Why? Had she been kidnapped?

A black sports car was parked out front of Phoebe’s house. The vehicle had fresh mud on its tires and the sides were splattered with mud. The car looked familiar, like he’d seen it before, but he probably hadn’t.

His windshield wipers came to a stop in mid-wipe as he parked his truck and cut the engine He strode up to the front door, rain drizzling on him. Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open.

Phoebe was standing in the doorway, a box in her hands. Her hair was damp and wild looking, unlike how she usually kept it, which was smooth, nearly perfect.

Her eyes widened when she saw Zane there and her mouth opened and closed without saying anything.

“What’s going on?” His gut tightened when he saw Phoebe flinch.

“Just doing some spring cleaning.” She gave him a false smile.

“It’s not spring.” He looked down at her shoes and saw that they had streaks of mud as if she’d stopped to clean them and hadn’t done a very good job of it. “You look like you’ve been out in the rain and in the mud.”

“I—I was working in the back yard.” She gripped the box she was holding tighter.

“What’s in there?” Zane asked. Something wasn’t right. None of this was right.

“Some junk I’m going to toss.” She took a step back but he followed her and took the box out of her arms. “No.” She lunged for the box but he turned and opened it.

Inside the box were toiletries like men’s shaving cream, and a brand of shampoo and shower gel that was for men. There was also a toothbrush, hair comb, and a razor, all packed among men’s boxers and T-shirts.

Zane dropped the box on the floor and Phoebe took a step back. “Does this all belong to the man you were cheating on me with?”

“Cheating?” Phoebe looked panicked now. “I never cheated.”

“Then why does Jessie have pictures of you with another man?” he asked.

Her gaze darted to the open doorway and back to him. “A friend was visiting. That must be it.”

Zane just studied at her. “I saw the pictures, Phoebe. That was no innocent kiss.” Before she could respond, he said, “Where’s Jessie?”

“Jessie?” Phoebe’s voice was tight. “Why would I know? Of course I don’t know.”

Something inside him told him that Phoebe was lying.

“Phoebe…” he said in a warning tone. “I know you threatened her.”

“I did not.” Phoebe spoke in a rush. “It’s her word against mine.”

Zane felt like he was going to go crazy if he didn’t get some answers and find Jessie. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
 

“If anything has happened to Jessie and it was because of you…” He ground his teeth and she withered beneath his look. “Are you positive you don’t know where she is?”

She gave a slow, jerky nod but said nothing.

He turned and headed to his truck. He cast a glance over his shoulder. “You hear or think of anything, you call me.”

Phoebe stared at him then turned and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 15

It was too early to file a missing person’s report. Zane slammed his palm against his steering wheel as he hung up with the sheriff’s department. They said they’d keep an eye out but there was nothing they could do until after twenty-four hours. She’d been missing for seven.

He tried to concentrate on where she could be. He and Wyatt had checked everywhere they could think of and Wayne and Dillon had joined in the search, along with Zane’s ranch hands.

Nowhere. They could find her nowhere.

And now it was dark. It would be even harder to locate her now.

An hour had passed since his talk with Phoebe when Zane hung up with Wyatt once again. He started to turn his truck around to check in at another neighbor’s ranch when his phone rang.

It was Phoebe’s number.

With a scowl, he answered. “What?”

“Zane.” At the sound of Jessie’s weak voice he straightened in his seat.

“Jessie.” He clenched his phone tighter. “Are you all right?”

“My ribs are broken.” She sounded weak, faint. “It hurts.”

He sucked in his breath. “Where are you, honey?” He pulled his truck over to the side of the road and he kept his voice calm for her benefit. “Tell me where you are.”

“I—” She groaned and his gut lurched. “He’s dead. I landed on him and I think…” She sounded dazed. “I think that’s why I didn’t die.”

“Tell me where you are.” It was becoming harder and harder to keep his calm for her sake. “I need to know so I can help you.”

“In the bottom of a well,” she said. “He pushed me, but I grabbed him and he fell in, too.”

Zane gripped his cell phone hard enough that it was going to crack. “Where, honey. Tell me where.”

“They took me… Her and Ed…” Her voice trailed off. “Now Ed’s dead.” She gasped. “It hurts.”

“Stay with me, Jessie.” Damn. Where should he go? “Where are you?”

“That abandoned house,” she said slowly. “You said it was in a friend’s family for generations before they lost it to the bank.” She coughed. “It hurts to talk.”

“I’ll be there.” He stomped on the gas. “Why do you have Phoebe’s phone?”

“It was in Ed’s pocket when I searched him,” she said. “He must have borrowed it from her.” She groaned. “I’m so sleepy.”

Zane clenched his jaw. If Jessie died… “Just stay with me, honey.”

“I’m cold, so cold.” She sounded drowsy. “I need to sleep. So tired…”

“Jessie?” He cursed as the line went dead.

Zane pushed the speed dial number on his phone for Wyatt and told him about Jessie’s call.

“I’m on my way,” Wyatt said. “I’ll start letting everyone know to head over there,” he added and then disconnected.

Zane tried to call Phoebe’s phone again, hoping Jessie would pick up, but no answer.

When he hit the road, his headlights bounced off the rutted path as he crossed the cattle guard. In the glow of his headlights he saw a set of tire prints that looked fresh even as the rain was washing them away. He turned his truck onto the road and the engine roared as he pressed on the gas. In the distance he saw an abandoned building. In front of it was a black car with its headlights on. Was it the same car that had been at Phoebe’s?

The car was turning around and then its tires spun in the mud as it started toward his truck.

Was Jessie in that car?

The car came straight toward him. He had to swerve as the vehicle reached him and he barely kept from going into the ditch beside the road.

The car swerved, too. It bounced over the ground and slammed into an oak tree. Its lights shown off the tree trunk and the glistening wet tree leaves.

Zane shoved his truck into park then jumped out and ran toward the car. When he reached it, he opened the driver’s side door and saw the blonde woman at the wheel. The airbag had been deployed, but her cheek was against the steering wheel, her face turned toward him. It was Phoebe.