The Ex Who Wouldn't Die (32 page)

"That sounds like an interesting match."

"Almost like a medieval marriage of alliance between ruling monarchs. Catherine Montgomery and Roland Kimball. Two powerful families combined to rule Texas. They got married two months after he came home from law school. Wasn't a very long courtship."

Two powerful families combined to rule Texas.
The future governor of Texas could be a murderer and a sexual pervert. Nice.

"How about Dianne
Carter
? Did you find out anything else about her after she came back to Silver Creek?"

"A year after she came back, she married Gregory
Carter
. They had two kids
, both boys
. She was a grade school teacher, he's a high school
athletics
coach. Both were active in the church and charity organizations." Dawson continued with the
same
information Irene had already given her.

Amanda sighed. Dawson had uncovered some things about Kimball she hadn't known, but she
didn't
see how any of it would help her.

Another call popped up on her cell phone. "I need to go. My dad's calling. Thanks, Dawson."

She tapped the button to answer the incoming call. "Hi, Dad."

"What in the devil were you doing trespassing at Roland Kimball's house last night?"

Amanda sat abruptly upright, stunned. "How did you find out about that?"

He ignored her question.
"Amanda, what have you got yourself into?"

"It was…a mistake."

"Yes, it was. Your trip to that town was a mistake. You need to come home. Brian is working on a defense for you, and he needs your assistance."

"Have they—" Amanda gulped. "Have they decided for sure to arrest me?"

"Not yet. You're my daughter. They're going to be very careful before they make their move."

Amanda shivered. "But you think they will make that move eventually."

Her father
was silent for a long moment. "I think you need to come home and help us put together a good defense just in case."

Just in case.
The casual way her father tossed out that phrase told her it was pretty close to a certainty. A chill crept down her spine, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"Dad, I can't come home right now." For a moment she considered telling h
im
what
was going on. She'd always been able to count on him when she needed help. He was her rock.

But, by that same token, i
f he found out
she was taunting a murderer, he'd come down and physically carry her home.

"Why?" he demanded, his tone strangely sharp.

"I—
uh—
it's Charley's mother. She likes me. I think having me here comforts her." She wasn't lying, just not telling everything she knew…an old trick
she'd learned from Charley
.

"How much longer do you plan to stay there?" Again she heard an unusual note of stress in her father's voice. But he did know she'd almost been hauled in for trespassing, so perhaps that explained any stress he felt. At least they'd reached the negotiation phase in their conversation.

"Two weeks." That should get her a week.

"Three days."

Three days?
"Dad! I'm an adult! You can't just order me around!"

Judge Caulfield
chuckled. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding more like his normal, in
-
control self. "I couldn't just order you around when you were a child. Please come home in three days. Is that better?"

"One week."

"One week. If you promise to stay safe. No more prowling around in the middle of night.
Stay at the Randolphs' house. Don't go anywhere.
"

Her father's admonition to remain at the Randolphs' house was oddly reminiscent of Charley's.
Promise me you'll stay with my family the whole time you're here
.
The two of them were rarely in accord. "One week." She agreed to the time element only.

"Do I have your promise
?" Again, that note of stress.

"I promise to come home in one week."

Her father
sighed. "All right. Please don't do anything crazy."

She couldn't agree to that, either, so she evaded it.
"I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Mandy."

She disconnected the call but stood staring at the phone. "Something's going on with my dad."

Charley laughed—nervously, she thought. "Why do you say that?"

Amanda shook her head and scowled at Charley. "I don't know. He just sounded funny."

"Your dad's fine. I gotta go." He disappeared.

Amanda stared at the empty space. Did Charley know something about her father that she didn't? The two men didn't even like each other. Her father had adamantly opposed her marriage to Charley.

Yet he'd known about Charley's very much alive family and had kept the knowledge a secret from her when that might have persuaded her not to marry Charley.

And he'd bailed Charley out of jail more than
once, used his influence to rescue
her husband
from a number
of scrapes. In fact, she'd eventually come to wish he'd stay out of things and let Charley deal with the consequences of his petty crimes, but Judge Caulfield insisted on upholding the family name.

Tonight her father had given her the same instructions Charley had given her the first night she was here, to remain within the confines of this house.

And
Charley, who could no longer lie, had chosen to disappear rather than talk about her father.

A ridiculous idea swam around the edges of her mind.

No, she told herself, dismissing the thought immediately. No way was it possible that Charley had been blackmailing her dad into getting him out of trouble. Not that she'd put it past Charley, but her dad was the most morally upright man she'd ever known. Stodgily so. He could never have done anything to be blackmailed for, nor would he have given in to a blackmailer.

She shook her head, negating her own foolish thoughts.
Her whole world had been turned upside down. Some of the changes were good, like meeting Charley's family. But now she was having doubts about her father and fears for her life.

That reminded her that she had not yet checked her motorcycle after her run-in with Kimball last night. She hurried downstairs and out into the yard. Her bike was still parked where she'd left it. It seemed to be intact, but a cursory inspection the day of her accident had not revealed any problem. She moved up close, ready to do a complete check of everything.

She didn't need to. Someone had made three yellow chalk marks on her back tire, the kind police left on automobile tires to determine if they stayed in a
parking zone too long. But the marks
hadn't been there the night before. They were fresh, not driven o
ver
. And if there should be any doubt as to who was responsible, someone had written a capital letter
K
in the dust on her gas tank.

Kimball was sending her a message. Nothing she could take to the police, just a warning that he could get to her any time he wanted.

Amanda rose slowly, her gaze
glued to
her bike.
Kimball wanted to frighten her. He'd succeeded.
She was scared.
The
extent of his power, the
fact that he coul
d get to her so easily was terrifying
.

But
he'd also pissed her off
.
How dare he sneak around in the middle of the night, intruding on Irene and Herbert's property and
touching
her motorcycle? He'd
already
ruined her
favorite bike. Now he'd touched this one
, and that felt creepy beyond words
. She'd have to check it
for problems
and wash it thoroughly before she rode it again.

Killing Charley was one thing. She really could hardly blame
him
for that. She'd thought about it often enough herself. But breaking into her apartment, stealing her gun and putting her at risk of going to prison, causing her to wreck one motorcycle and leaving hi
s evil presence
on another…
the
jerk
had to be stopped.

Chapter Sixteen

That afternoon
Amanda made a thorough
inspection of her bike
followed by a thorough washing
then
rode to the high school football stadium to tal
k to the coach, Dianne's widower
. If she
could figure out
why Kimball killed Dianne, that might give her a lever in dealing with him.

Charley, of course, came
with her
.
When he was alive, he'd spent a lot of time away, working on scams, having affairs, a night or two in jail. Now
, when he should be gone forever,
she couldn't get rid of him.

The two of them stood at
the rail
around the football field
a
nd cheered for Paula and Penny
as the girls
r
an laps
.
When the
y
finished their track practice, they
came over,
smiling and
mopping perspiration from their faces.

"Hi, Amanda!
" Paula greeted.
They had their names on their shirts, so Amanda knew which twin was which. Unless they'd switched shirts. "Did you ride your bike
? Can I ride back with you?"