"My mother never objected?"
"No." Rosa shrugged her wizened shoulders. "Perhaps she never knew. She abandoned the bebe at a church."
"How could she do that?" The action didn't compute. Her mother had always been so caring and supportive of Allie and her sister. It just went to show how so many people wore a mask. Like Rick. She pushed the memory of his face away.
She took a sip of her coffee. It wasn't as bitter as her heart.
Rosa stood and went to rinse out her cup at the old hand pump. "I do not know, mujercita. Perhaps by then, she had come to hate every thing about Nolan and the ranch, all the past memories. I am glad she was a good madre to you. She learned from her past, as we all should."
Had Rick learned from his past? She hadn't seen him take a single drop of liquor. But he had hidden his alcoholism from her. It would be hard to get past that failure if she was even willing to try, and right now, she wasn't too sure about that.
ALLIE HAD BEEN GONE AN HOUR. RICK KNEW SHE NEEDED TIME, BUT HE couldn't hang around and watch for her or he'd go crazy. Maybe he could see what Walker had found out about Luis Hernandez since yesterday.
Hoping to catch him before he went to work, he drove to Walker's house. Splashes of rain peppered the windshield, and he flipped on his wipers. Looked like they could have a real gullet'-washer. Rick parked behind his friend's truck and honked when he saw Walker exiting the house.
Walker waved and walked back to stand beside Rick's open window. "I was going to call you when I got to the office, Mr. Impatience." His easy smile came. "We did good work yesterday. The money trail checks out. The ring raked in over five hundred thousand dollars."
"And it definitely went through Allie's account?"
Yep.
"And he killed Allie's family. Man, that took a lot of hate."
Walker's brow clouded. "Uh, actually Rick, we're not finding evidence of any murder. He was in Mexico when the plane crash happened, and then when the sister was killed, he was in Canada."
"Maybe he hired someone."
"Maybe. But if he did, there's no money trail pointing to a hit man."
"I'm sure you'll find the connection. He's good at covering his tracks."
"Maybe." Walker glanced at his watch. "Listen, I've got to run. I'll call you if I find out anything new."
"Thanks." Rick backed out of the driveway and turned his truck toward home. He should get Betsy, but considering the weather, she'd be safer with the O'Sullivans. They had a basement, and this storm just might have a twister in it.
He mulled over what he'd found out. Luis had to be the murderer. Rick might have to help pin this down himself. The last thing he wanted was for the man to get off on a lighter charge and come looking for Allie again.
The clouds drew his gaze again, thunderheads building in the southwest. As purple-black as a bruise, they towered over the landscape. They were in for a bad one. He needed to make sure Allie wasn't out in this weather. He tried to reach her on his cell phone, but she didn't answer. The best he could do was get home as soon as possible. If she was still out, he'd take Jem and go find her.
His cell phone rang and he flipped it open. "Bailey."
"Rick, Betsy is gone." Dolly was babbling, nearly hysterical. "The bedroom window is open, and she's just gone."
Time froze.
Rick jammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. What should he do? Go look for Betsy or find Allie? He started to turn the truck around. Allie would want him to find Betsy.
But for some reason he couldn't name, he veered the wheel the other way and headed to the ranch. "Call the sheriff," he barked into the phone. "I'm going after Allie, and we'll be there as soon as we can."
Allie was roaming on her own, but Rick had a feeling the guy would take Betsy to flaunt his power over her. He could only take the impulse as direction from God and trust he was reading it right.
THE SPLATTERS OF RAIN CHILLED HER ARMS. ALLIE LOOKED UP INTO THE rolling underbelly of a monster. A doozy of a storm was going to hit any minute, more than just the rain that had eased off before she left Rosa's. She was exposed to the vicious lightning flickering in the clouds. A rumble followed that made Moonbeam startle. She could sense the horse's agitation as the storm grew nearer.
She probably should have stayed at Rosa's. Her gaze swept the landscape as she looked for a place to get her and the horse in from the storm. There was nothing in the rock face, and the ranch was an hour's ride behind her.
She saw something in the distance and realized it was Bluebird. She whistled to the horse, and the mare turned toward her. Allie trotted Moonbeam over to the other mare and grabbed her halter. "What are you doing here, girl?"
The horse snorted but didn't try to run away. Allie leaned her face against the mare's neck and inhaled the aroma of horse. Rosa's words came back to her.
Maybe she learned from her past.
Didn't everyone have regrets for things they'd done in the past? She sure did. Who was she to judge Rick? She hadn't lived his life and been faced with his hurts. Love was a choice, he'd said. He'd chosen love early on and proven it by his actions.
She could do the same. The anger seeped out of her heart. Rick deserved the best she could give.
"Allie!"
She turned in the saddle to see Charlie coming toward her on horseback. She waved and waited for him. He would help her.
"Are you crazy? Coming out here in the middle of a storm," he said, stopping his horse about five feet from her. "The lightning will get you if the wind doesn't."
"You're out here too," she said, smiling.
"I was looking for you. Rick was worried, and so was I. He went to town to get Betsy and asked me to try to find you. You two have a fight?" His smile suggested he'd be glad to hear the juicy details.
"Something like that," she said shortly, irritation wiping away her initial happiness at seeing him. "How'd Bluebird get out?"
He shrugged. "No clue."
"Any idea where we can hole up?"
"I've got the perfect spot. Follow me." Digging his heels into his horse's belly, he led the way up the hillside and disappeared around the curve in the trail.
Muttering under her breath that she wanted to go down, not up, Allie followed with Bluebird. As soon as she got past the creosote bush that stuck halfway into the path, she saw Charlie waving from the opening to an old mine shaft.
She rode up to join him. "I don't want to go in there. Bats." She shuddered.
"They're sleeping," he said.
A brilliant flash of light superimposed itself on her eyes. Her hair stood on end, and the lightning crackled a hundred feet away, where it split a piiion tree right down the center. The smell of ozone burned her throat.
Bluebird snorted and tried to jerk away, but she hung on. Moonbeam pranced along the wet ground too, his eyes rolling to the whites.
"Come on!" Charlie and his horse disappeared into the shaft.
The hot scent from the burning tree and the way the wind picked up made Allie dismount and follow, leading Moonbeam and Bluebird in with her. The cool muskiness of the mine made her instantly want to go back outside. She hated closed-in spaces. The rough walls and low ceiling made her chest feel tight.
"Over here, Allie," Charlie called.
He was brandishing a flashlight. The friendly beam pushed back the edges of the darkness. Allie dropped Moonbeam's reins and sat beside Charlie on a big rock near the ashes of an old campfire.
"Looks like someone uses this place." Kicking at the ashes with the toe of her boot, she glanced around the space.
Black things in the corners made her shudder. Bats, but they weren't moving. The storm would blow itself out soon, and she could get home to Betsy.
Once she figured out what to say to Rick. Tears welled in her eyes again, and she turned her head, but not fast enough to hide her emotion from Charlie.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Fine." She sniffed and gulped back her pain.
"Rick
have a drinking binge or something?"
She looked up then. "You knew?"
"Well, sure. The whole ranch knows. Elijah was waiting for Rick to fall, but he hasn't so far. Maybe you weakened him. You have that effect on men."
She wasn't going there. Uh-uh. Charlie seemed to have words of confession hanging on his tongue, and she wasn't going to give him a chance to tell her he was crazy about her or something equally embarrassing.
Standing, she walked around the cavern, though she was careful not to look up at the bats. If she saw one move, she might scream. "What kind of mine is this?"
Charlie stood and joined her. "Mercury." He kicked an orange rock with his toe. "Cinnabar rock carries it."
"Why isn't it mined anymore?"
"I don't know, do I look like a park ranger?" He laughed, but there was an edge to it. "I've been wanting to talk to you. Sit down." He took her arm in a surprisingly hard grasp and marched her back to the rock.
There was no getting around it. She was going to have to hurt his feelings. Just what she needed on top of an upsetting day. "Look, Charlie, let's not go there. I'm happily married."
His laughter barked, echoing off the sides of the mine. "Get real. You're not as pretty as you think you are."
She drew back at the derisive edge to his voice. "My mistake," she said in a cool voice. "So what's on your mind?"
"Women like you can twist a guy until he doesn't know which way is up." Charlie swore and stomped at the ashes and charred wood, scattering them in all directions. Vile words spewed from his mouth as he waved his hands and roared around the space.
Allie wanted to grab Moonbeam and run, but the storm had descended in full fury. The wind howled outside the mine opening, and the thunder boomed in a continuous roll. Rain sluiced over the entrance like a waterfall.
"Calm down, Charlie. Tell me what this is all about." She tried to speak in a soft, calm voice, and it seemed to work. He quit kicking at the ground and turned to look at her.
Then she saw his hand come up with a gun.
"Put that away." She spoke in her strongest, most assertive voice.
"You killed my brother." His voice was calm and reasonable.
"Jimmy Hernandez is your brother? Bu but you're not Hispanic."
His short laugh made Moonbeam prick his ears and step back. "This has nothing to do with Hernandez. You're so stupid. I gave you plenty of time to figure it out."
"Who's your brother? I thought you said he was a politician."
"He wanted to run for office, but you killed him. The name Mark Haskell ring a bell?" He watched until she flinched, then he smiled.
"Mark's dead? I didn't know."
He leaned over her, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Of course he's dead, you heartless witch! He hung himself when you broke his heart. You led him on, then tossed him aside like a piece of trash when you were done."
Allie winced as spittle sprayed from his mouth over her face. "Charlie, it wasn't like that. We weren't romantically involved. He never even kissed me."
"You're a liar! He'd come home at night and tell me what you said about loving him forever. Then some new cowboy walked in and whisked you away from him."
"He lied to you," she said, trying to edge away. Her back was up against the wall of the mine. "You have to believe me."
The storm was beginning to abate. She could hear the thunder moving off. They had to get down off this mountain and through the wash before a flash flood hit.
Charlie quit looming over her. He stepped back, and she took hope that maybe he was listening to the truth.
"Please, you have to believe me, Charlie. I only went out with him a couple of times." Did Charlie kill her family and Yo? Staring into his face, suffused with red, she could believe it.
And she was stuck here in a mine with him training a gun on her. Praying, she tried to think of what to do. She couldn't leave Betsy alone.
26
THE WIND RATTLED THE TRUCK LIKE A COUGAR SHAKING A RABBIT. RICK gripped the wheel and fought to keep it on the road. He kept shooting cautious glances at the sky. While tornadoes weren't common in the Big Bend area, they weren't unheard-of either.
Lightning snaked across the sky, and thunder chased it, a rumble that he felt clear through the vehicle. Allie and Betsy were out in this. He had to find them.
Squinting through the driving rain, he struggled to see the road. With the storm obscuring the landscape, he had no idea where he was. Then he saw a lane off to the right and recognized his neighbor's drive. The ranch was still ten miles away. He should pull off and wait this out a few minutes.
He wanted to press on, but if he ended up in a ditch, Allie and Betsy would be lost. He angled the truck into the lane, keeping it on the high part so runoff wouldn't flood him out. With the truck shut off and stationary, the storm battered the vehicle so much, he thought it might tip over. There could be a twister in this sucker.
His cell phone rang, and he fished it out of his shirt pocket. "Bailey," he said. He heard a voice on the other end, but the storm was so loud, he couldn't hear well. Then he realized it was Brendan.
"Got word about---"
"Say again, Brendan?" he shouted. "I'm in the middle of a spring thunderstorm."
"Mark Haskell," Brendan said, the connection suddenly clearing. "He hung himself, which is why Allie didn't hear from him again."
"Holy cow. Listen, Brendan, this is important." Rick had to shout over the sound of the wind. "Betsy's missing. I thought we found the guy who was after Allie, but I was wrong. Did this Haskell have any family?"
"Just a brother he was raising. Half-brother actually. The kid ended up in a mental hospital for a while. Charles-" The rest of the name disappeared in a crackle of static.
"What was that, Brendan? You cut out. What's Charles's last name?"
"Reyes," Brendan said. "Charles Reyes."
Charlie!
His friend Charlie, who was out looking for Allie. Could they have been wrong? Maybe Luis had nothing to do with the deaths. He claimed he didn't.
The static in his phone grew louder. The connection was about to die. "Brendan, I don't think my phone is going to hold. If you can hear me, call the sheriff in town. Tell him Charlie Reyes has Betsy and is going to kill her and Allie. I'm going to the ranch now."
Brendan's response was garbled, then the phone went dead. Rick could only hope and pray his friend got the last of the words. He started the engine, backed out onto the road he still couldn't see, then sped back toward the ranch as fast as the buffeting rain would allow.
He couldn't believe it. Not Charlie. He was just a kid. But then murder didn't seem to have an age requirement.
He reached the turnoff to the ranch. A new river had sprung into existence while he was gone. The wash across the road ran heavy and deep. He was going to have to try to make it through anyway. The truck shuddered as Rick gunned it. The tires found purchase in the mud under the water, then a wave slapped against the door. The truck bucked again. The tires lost their grip, and the water lifted the vehicle.
In seconds, the truck was riding the waves in the middle of the current. Hurtling toward the Eye of the Needle, as they called the hole between two huge boulders. No way would the truck fit through there.
Rick unfastened his seat belt and prepared to abandon the truck. With the force of the current, the vehicle would slam into those rocks, and he didn't want to be trapped in the cab when it happened. He might be unable to get out with the doors and windows jammed up.
The truck slewed sideways, and the passenger door became the leading edge. Rick tried to open his door, but the water pressure was too great. He jerked around to see the approaching rocks, then ran the window down to try to get out that way. Sitting on the top of the window opening, he grabbed the top of the truck and hauled himself up until his feet were on the armrest.
Then he was atop the truck, looking down at the red-brown, swirling water. The bank was fifteen feet away, and it would be a hard swim to make
it, but he had no choice. The rocks loomed ahead, and the impact would knock him in the water anyway.
The rain continued to drench him. He shot up a prayer for help, then leaped. The water closed over his head, and then his feet touched the bottom. He kicked with his heels and shot up to the surface, where he gulped in air. He couldn't see which way was to safety, but he saw the truck barreling toward the rocks and struck out perpendicular to its trajectory.
Flotsam and debris battered him as he struggled to swim in the turbulent water. Pieces of sheet metal barreled by, and he ducked out of their way, but one raked a sharp edge across his arm. He grabbed a piece of wood and hung on to it for buoyancy. Fatigue was already beginning to slow him, and he wasn't sure he'd make it. Then his boot touched bottom, and he used the stability to propel himself forward. His arm struck a tree limb, this time not one floating in the water but anchored in the soil.
He grabbed the limb, hauled himself to shore, and lay in the mud with the rain pounding on his back. Half-unconscious, he coughed up the dirty water from his lungs.
Allie. Betsy.
They needed him. He managed to get onto his hands and knees, then finally to his feet. Patting his pocket, he realized his cell phone was still there, though it was probably useless.
The rain began to slow, and he blinked water out of his eyes. He needed a horse and Jem to try to find Allie. The barn was three hundred feet up the lane, but on the other side of the water. He'd have to climb the rocks and sidle across the Eye of the Needle.
Gathering his strength, he started for the rocks. With his boots wet and the rocks slick with water and mud, it would be a hard trail. He reached the base of the hillside and started up. Cold mud and muck clung to his hands and caked his boots. Several times he fell on the slippery surface. Finally he was at the summit.
Below him, the truck rocked and scraped against the rocks as the roaring flood battered it. The door had crumpled in, and the rolling of the water had smashed it from all sides. He straddled the narrow rock and began to scoot along toward the other side. The water rose higher and higher on the face of the cliff until it touched the soles of his boots.