Wanted Woman Page 16

  “We have to go,” Jesse repeated and took Maggie’s hand. He was worried that the longer they stayed, the more chance of an ambush as they left.

  Mitch was already wheeling himself toward the back door, Charity at his side when she motioned that she needed to talk to Jesse a minute.

  “You might want to keep an eye on Bruno,” Charity said confidentially. “I did a little checking on him for a friend. His real name is Jerome Lovelace and he has quite a rap sheet.”

  “For a friend?”

  Charity groaned. “For Lydia, all right? She got this idea that Bruno might be thinking of robbing the antique store.”

  Both Jesse and Mitch rolled their eyes at that, just as Charity no doubt figured they would.

  “Don’t make me sorry I told you,” Charity warned.

  Jesse laughed. “I appreciate the heads up, Charity.” The news didn’t really surprise him. He watched his brother and Charity leave. When he glanced back, Bruno was by the front door, eyes hooded. Jesse hadn’t heard him say a word all night. But Jesse could feel his eyes on them as they left. Mean eyes.

  RUPERT BLACKMORE tried to calm down. He’d been sitting in Betty’s Café, having a cup of decaf when the door burst open and the café suddenly filled to overflowing with people—and the news.

  Angela Dennison had announced she was alive at the party tonight.

  Rupert could barely hear the clamor of voices over the rush of his pulse. Blindly, he dropped money on the counter and, sliding off the stool, stumbled out the door. He doubted anyone noticed him or the way he clutched his chest as he leaned against the side of his pickup.

  If he was right, if the kidnapper still lived here in this town, then he knew that Rupert hadn’t lived up to his end of the bargain.

  What would he do? Turn in the service revolver with Rupert’s fingerprints on it? Rupert could see the headlines now. His reputation would be destroyed, he might lose his pension and Teresa. Tears blurred his vision.

  He’d have to tell Teresa himself. He didn’t want her reading about it in the paper. What choice did he have? None.

  It was too late to kill Margaret Randolph. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak. But she’d announced at the party that she was looking for the kidnapper and wouldn’t rest until she found him. Worse, she’d taken up with the deputy sheriff.

  Rupert was sure he’d covered his tracks well on the recent murders. It was time to go back to Seattle. Retire. Move to Arizona. Maybe if he changed his name…

  He managed to get the pickup door open and pulled himself onto the seat, closing the door behind him. He’d left the key in the ignition, not worried about anyone in this town stealing his old pickup.

  He started to reach for the key, leaning over the steering wheel as he did. That’s when he saw the note. It was taped to the radio. It had his name on it.

  He gripped the steering wheel. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it would burst from his chest as he looked out to see if anyone was watching him. No one he could see in the darkness.

  Hands shaking, he pulled the note from the front of the radio. The tape gave. It was one small sheet of white paper folded in half, his name neatly printed on the front. Detective Rupert Blackmore.

  He opened it and let out a cry as he read the words. “I have your wife. Finish the job. No loose ends.” The paper fluttered from his fingers and he grabbed his cell phone from his jacket pocket, his fingers shaking so hard it took him three tries to key in his mother-in-law’s number. It was late. Teresa would be in bed asleep. So would his mother-in-law, Marlene. He’d wake them both and feel foolish.

  The phone rang and rang.

  He felt his heart drop to the soles of his flat feet.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maggie watched the dark forest blur by the cab of the pickup, so many emotions racing through her she felt numb. Jesse hadn’t said anything since they’d left Roz Sawyer’s house.

  She watched him look in the rearview mirror for the hundredth time and realized he was worried that Blackmore or the kidnapper might be following them.

  She hadn’t realized how much had been riding on tonight. The announcement and her biological parents’ reaction hadn’t surprised her. Her sister Desiree’s had. It must have been such a shock to them all. At least her aunt Lydia had welcomed her and that warmed Maggie.

  She glanced in her side mirror as Jesse turned onto the road to his cabin. As far as she could tell no one was following them.

  Leaning back into the seat, she closed her eyes, remembering the look on Jesse’s face when they’d gotten the DNA test results. She smiled to herself, opened her eyes and looked over at him.

  He hadn’t touched her since they’d climbed into the pickup. Nor had he said a word. His big hands gripped the wheel as he drove, his eyes on the road or the rearview mirror.

  Now that there was nothing keeping them apart had he changed his mind?

  He pulled up the pickup in front of the cabin, cut the engine and sat for a moment just staring out at the darkness.

  She ached to touch him, to feel his mouth on hers, to lose herself in his arms. Silence and darkness settled over them. He seemed to be waiting for something.

  A faint light blinked once, then twice from out in the darkness beyond the cabin.

  Jesse seemed to relax and she remembered overhearing Lee Tanner’s promise to check out the cabin before they returned. Obviously the flashing light signaled everything was okay and that state troopers were in position. Without looking at her, he opened his door and trotted around to hers, taking her hand but not looking at her as he quickly drew her up the steps all the time watching behind them.

  JESSE REMEMBERED Charity’s words just before they left Roz Sawyer’s house. Charity had been waiting outside and pulled him aside.

  “Do you have any idea who she is?” she asked, following his gaze to Maggie as she got into his old pickup.

  “She’s Angela Dennison.”

  “She’s Margaret Randolph and Margaret Randolph is now head of a huge business conglomerate. She’s been running it for months, ever since her father’s health began to fail.”

  How did Charity find out the things she did? He hadn’t asked Maggie about any of that. It hadn’t mattered. But now he realized what she was saying. Maggie had a company to run in Seattle. What were the chances she would ever want to stay in Timber Falls?

  Charity had leaned in to whisper, “She’s not just amazingly smart, she’s incredibly rich.”

  What could a woman like Maggie see in a man like him? Especially long-term.

  Now as he led Maggie up the steps to his cabin, he feared Charity was right. As long as they’d thought they might be blood-related, they had kept their distance. Now that there was nothing to keep them apart, Maggie might be having second thoughts.

  THE MOMENT the door closed, Jesse let out a sigh and turned to look at her. What had Charity said to him as they were leaving the Sawyers? Something that had upset him.

  “Jesse, if you’ve changed your mind—”

  He grabbed a handful of her dress and dragged her to him, his big hands cupping her face as he brought his lips down to hers.

  “Oh God, I’ve wanted to do that from the moment we left the party,” he said against her mouth.

  Her eyes filled as she looked up at him, her lips curving into a relieved smile. “I thought you might be having second thoughts.”

  He met her gaze and shook his head. “You?”

  She smiled up at him and circling his neck with her arms pulled him down for a kiss.

  When she drew back to look at him, he hugged her tightly to him, his breath against her hair. “Maggie.” He said her name as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

  Then he covered her mouth again, his tongue teasing hers, exploring her mouth, her lips as he swept her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs.

  A cry of pure joy welled in her chest. She could feel his heart pounding, in perfect synch with hers.

  As th
e kiss ended, she touched his face, cupping his jaw, and looking up into his eyes. They’d reached his bedroom. He stood her on her feet, his gaze never leaving hers. His eyes were dark with desire and she felt a shaft of heat shoot through her. “Oh, Jesse.”

  JESSE JUST STOOD looking at her in that bright red dress. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. He’d never wanted a woman more in his life. What had he done to get this lucky?

  He tried not to think about the future. Thought of nothing but Maggie and this moment he’d prayed for, the moment he could hold her, kiss her, make love to her.

  Love.

  He slipped one bright red strap from her freckled shoulder. She didn’t move, her gaze locked with his as he slipped the other strap down. Her breasts swelled beneath the silken fabric as she took a ragged breath. “I have wanted to make love to you since the first night I saw you,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse.

  She smiled. “I watched you from the window with my bike. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  He shook his head. He only knew that this woman had come into his life and it hadn’t been the same since. He’d been restless that night, the first time he’d seen her, but that feeling was gone with her here. He couldn’t bear to think what it would be like without her though.

  He pushed the thought from his mind. Hadn’t he always lived life minute to minute? This wasn’t a time to be thinking about forever. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  “All you have to do is look at me, Jesse, and I melt inside,” she whispered and brushed her lips over his sending a quiver of desire spiking through him. “I have never felt so safe, so secure, than in your arms.”

  He started to tell her that she wasn’t safe. Not by a long shot, but she hushed him with a finger to his lips.

  “You make me feel things I have never felt before,” she said looking deep into his eyes. She slowly began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers brushing lightly over his bare skin as she shoved aside the material and flattened her palms to his chest. A fire swept through him, his blood ablaze for her.

  Reaching with both arms around her, he unzipped the dress. It fell to the floor in a whisper. She wore a tiny pair of lace panties, black and in stark contrast to her pale freckled skin. The bra was also black, and her nipples were hard as pebbles against the lace inserts. He groaned at the mere sight. Between her breasts rested a small caliber pistol.

  He removed the weapon, putting it down gingerly on the dresser. He brushed his thumb over one nipple as he did. He heard her soft moan. It fueled the fire in him.

  He swept her up and carried her to the bed where he laid her gently down, sliding her panties over her slim hips as he did. He tossed them aside and crawled up onto the bed next to her, slipping the bra straps down and unfastening the front hook.

  The bra fell away to expose her full rounded breasts. His mouth dropped greedily to each distended tip, the nipple hard against his tongue. He felt her hands working at the tuxedo pants. The real world dissolved in the distance as in minutes they were naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies one. Alone, safe, together. Nothing else mattered.

  RUPERT BLACKMORE realized he was getting too old for this. The climb up the side of the hill had left him weak and breathless. He leaned against the trunk of a large cedar and tried to catch his breath.

  He stood listening to the pounding of his heart and the night. A breeze moaned softly in the dense pine boughs overhead and he thought he could hear a stream nearby.

  He tried not to think about Teresa, what she’d been told, where she was, what had happened to her. He tried not to let the fear or the anger make him stupid, force him to make a mistake.

  He’d already run across one state trooper. The blow hadn’t killed the man. Just bought Rupert time. He wondered how many more were in the woods around Jesse Tanner’s cabin. How many more he’d have to take down before he finally reached Margaret Randolph.

  This felt wrong. All wrong.

  He told himself it was because he didn’t want to kill the young woman. But he would. He had to if he hoped to see his beloved Teresa again.

  He fought back the grief and regret that threatened to completely overwhelm him and concentrated on the terrain in front of him. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He moved quietly through the woods, figuring he should be coming up on another state cop pretty soon.

  He hadn’t gone far when he stopped to listen. A chill rattled up his spine. He’d survived this long as a cop on instinct and right now his instincts were telling him to get the hell off this mountain, too get the hell out of this state. To run.

  But he knew he couldn’t run far enough. And if he ever wanted to see Teresa again…

  He heard the crack of a twig behind him. That’s when he knew why this had felt all wrong. He’d been set up.

  MAGGIE LAY staring up at the wooden plank ceiling smiling to herself, her body warm, sated. She’d known he would be a wonderful lover. Just the thought made her quiver inside. No man had ever made her heart beat with such fierceness or her body respond with such joy.

  But it had been more than physical. She had known that if they were allowed to come together it would be amazing. She still felt awestruck by the feelings he had evoked in her. She loved him. She felt as if she had from that first night when he’d come to help her on the highway.

  She listened to Jesse’s rhythmic breathing next to her, his thigh against hers, his body still hot from their lovemaking, the scent of him still filling her senses.

  Sleep beckoned but she fought it. Being here with Jesse felt so right but she knew it could be taken away from both of them in an instant. For a while she had forgotten about Blackmore. About her kidnapping.

  She couldn’t give in to this feeling of happiness. Not knowing that the killer hadn’t given up. Blackmore would be coming for her. And he might not be coming alone.

  Blackmore. There had to be a Timber Falls-Seattle connection. One that she’d missed in the research she’d done. Jesse had picked up the sheriff’s department file on her kidnapping earlier and they’d poured over it before the party, but they hadn’t found any link.

  Where did Blackmore fit in? There had to be some connection.

  She slipped from the bed.

  “Are you all right?” Jesse said, instantly feeling the loss of her.

  She smiled back at him. “I’m just going to check something. I’ll be back.”

  She padded barefoot out of the room grabbing his robe as she headed down the stairs to where he’d put all the information he’d collected. Printouts of stories about Blackmore, the official file on the kidnapping, everything gathered about the original suspects.

  She looked through the sheriff’s department file again first. Wade and Daisy’s accounts contradicted one another’s. Was there something there?

  She opened the file Jesse had put together for her on Blackmore. Within a few minutes, she felt Jesse come up behind her.

  “Blackmore?” he said reading over her shoulder. He dragged up a chair next to her.

  “Look at this,” she said, pointing to a photograph taken at one of Blackmore’s many award ceremonies where he had been honored for his bravery, his heroism, his excellence as a police officer.

  In this particular photograph, Rupert Blackmore was only in his late twenties. He was surprisingly handsome and almost bashful as he took the commendation from the then mayor of Seattle.

  “Do you see it?” she asked.

  Jesse leaned down to kiss her neck. He took a deep breath, breathing in her scent. Putting his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair. He wished she would come back to bed.

  “Look at this,” she said.

  He pulled back and looked down at the photograph she was pointing at. It was a copy, black-and-white, and the resolution was bad. But he saw that she was pointing at the cutline under the photo, not the men in the snapshot.

  He read the cutline hurrying over the list of names. Then reread them, leaning in a little. One name
jolted him from any thought of sleep.

  Blackmore, Hathway, Curtis, Johnson, Abernathy, Cox, Frank, Peterson. “Abernathy?” H.T. Abernathy. One of the cops receiving a commendation for assisting in some case.

  “There must be a million Abernathys, right?” she asked. “What are the chances he could be related to Lydia?”

  Jesse got up and went to find the cell phone. He dialed his brother’s number. “I need to talk to Charity,” he said when Mitch answered.

  “Jesse? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Two-twenty-nine in the morning,” he said. He could hear his brother call to Charity in the next bedroom.

  “Do you ever sleep?” Mitch grumbled.

  “Not much.”

  “It’s Jesse,” Mitch said. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Yes?” Charity said, sounding sleepy as she picked up the extension.

  “What was Lydia’s husband’s name?” Jesse asked her.

  “What are you doing playing Timber Falls Trivial Pursuit?” Mitch asked.

  “Yeah, strip Timber Falls Trivial Pursuit,” Jesse said. “I’m losing so help me out, okay.”

  Charity groaned. “Don’t talk about strip anything, okay? I want a white wedding.”

  “I admire that about you,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Henry.”

  Henry. H.T. “Henry Abernathy?” Jesse repeated, hoping she didn’t hear his excitement. “You know what his middle name was?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Okay, what did he do for a living? He owned an antique shop or something, right?”

  “Jesse, are you drunk?” Mitch asked on the extension.

  “No antiques,” Charity said drowsily as if she’d lain back down. “He didn’t have anything to do with antiques that I know of. I think that was just something Lydia came up with after he was killed. He was a cop.”

  Jesse met Maggie’s gaze. All the breath had rushed out of him. “Where was that?” he managed to say, afraid Charity had fallen back to sleep she was so slow to answer.