Chapter Twenty-Three
Joanna exited the shower and toweled off, her gaze falling to the bed where a silky leopard nightgown tied up in a red bow sat waiting. She shook her head. “Aw. You really did think of everything.” Her lip curled upward at the corner. A Christmas gift from Sam, no doubt.
She walked to the bed and slipped the silken fabric over her skin, glad it almost reached her knees. Sam didn’t usually do modest. Joanna turned her attention to the inviting plush-covered pillows on the bed. One by one she removed them until she reached the top of the comforter, which she pulled back exposing matching polka dotted sheets. She smiled. Just like the ones from Sam’s childhood bedroom. Her favorites.
Before answering the plea of her weary body, she checked the French doors to make sure they were locked, taking a peek at the new deck still in progress. It was too dark to see the water, but the security light on the corner of the house revealed quite a mess. The deck planks were only in place about midway out. And there was huge drop off, marked by a string of yellow caution tape strung from one tree to another the entire length of the house. Sam wasn’t kidding. Disaster zone for sure.
After moving back to the bed, she eased beneath its warmth. As her head melted into the pillow, she stared up at the ceiling, an image of Ryker’s troubled expression resurfacing after she’d brought up the accident where his brother was killed. No wonder he’d become a cop. He was still trying to set fate straight even after all these years and regretting the fact he’d never made things right with his father.
Maybe that’s what had turned Ryker’s mood so sour when she bucked his pressure to remain a few more days, made it even more imperative he control her situation, protect her at all cost. That wasn’t manipulation. That meant he cared.
So he’d wanted her to stay in the hospital for her own safety. He wasn’t Keith. Wasn’t anything like the man she’d considered her friend. So why was she so irritated with his genuine concern for her safety? After all, he’d expressed his true feelings, suggesting they see where things led after they found her father. That’s exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it?
She let out a frustrated growl. This was so messed up.
Turning over onto her side and looking out the window at the peaceful night, she broke her most important rule. She thought about her mother. Where was she now? Was she happy? Her father had paid her off. Made her leave and promise never to come back with threats he’d make sure the police took a deeper look into Keith’s mom’s death. Joanna knew how ruthless her father was. He had the means to make it appear her mother may have been guilty or played some role in the poor woman’s death no matter what.
She felt the hate, the resentment, the anger she’d carried all these years toward her mom slipping away. Her mom had been a lonely, unhappy woman tied to her father and a child she’d never wanted. And she’d been forced to leave by her father. Very few stood up against Clint McNamee and won. Truth was, her mother had been no match for his mercilessness. Mrs. Coleman’s death was a suicide. Nothing more. Who was she to judge her mother for doing the only thing she could in order to survive?
A part of her hoped the affair with Keith’s father had been worth it. She’d certainly paid a hefty price for it. Joanna understood better her reasons for leaving now. She drew in a long cleansing breath, knowing this was another step in the right direction to help her heal.
The lamp beside the bed flickered. So quick at first, Joanna questioned if it actually happened. And then the room fell dark.
Quivers of fear swept over her arms and legs, pirouetting on the tips of her toes. She pulled the covers up tight around her neck and curled her knees up against her chest, grimacing against the pinch of pain in her left leg from the quick action as she listened to the noises amplify around her.
Water from her recent shower dripped slowly from the faucet in the bathroom, a slow agonizing dllp…dllp. The hum of the air conditioner outside her window echoed in the night along with the soft breeze as it rustled the limbs against the roof. And then, as if on a conductor’s cue, a chorus of frogs erupted in a rendition of croak-till-you-drop, and Joanna laughed out loud.
Funny how her imagination immediately took off on an eerie tangent at the first sign of the unexplained. Skittish to the core, she whipped the covers off and sat up, feeling for the floor with her bare feet. Sam had to have a flashlight somewhere.
Since Sam had briefly stuck her head inside the bedroom door to tell her that she and Andy were going for a midnight stroll to gaze at the stars over the lake, Joanna was on her own.
About time they got together.
Shuffling as she walked to avoid a painful run in with the furniture, and using her hands as guides along the wall, she moved toward the closed bedroom door. The living room’s big bank of picture windows would let in enough light to see by. All she had to do was make it to the couch and wait for the two lovebirds to return.
Easy enough.
The door creaked as she pulled it open, the hallway an inky dark beyond. Her throat tightened, fear doing a nasty job on her resolve. A few steps outside the room and every hair on her body spiked.
She wasn’t alone.
The distinct sound of labored breathing competed for attention with the clock at the end of the long hall. She started to call out, see if Sam or Andy needed help. But a tiny voice in the back of her head stopped her. Sam and Andy would call out to her. This person hid.
A burglar? Could she be that unlucky?
At the sound of movement in her direction, her stomach clenched in tight coils that seemed to latch onto the lining and twist. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d ever feel sorry for a trapped rat. But now, as the walls around her appeared to close in, she felt a lot more than compassion for the once despised creature. She almost felt one with it.
She inched slowly, quietly back through the doorway, her heart tattooing a new rhythm on her eardrum.
“Jo Jo, you okay?” Andy’s loud baritone voice reverberated through her body seconds after the backdoor whooshed open.
She froze to the spot afraid to speak. Afraid to alert the intruder of her location.
“The generator should have turned on by now,” Sam said.
“Joanna? Answer me!” His pitch rang with concern.
The breathing had disappeared the minute her friends returned, and Joanna began to question what she’d heard. Maybe her imagination had gotten the best of her again. Feeling more secure, she answered, “I’m here. The lights went out.”
“Yeah, we saw the security lights go off from across the lake. Sam’s pissed. Said she could swim back faster than I was rowing. You all right?”
“I am now.”
“Hang on a second. I’ll get a flashlight and come to you.”
“Okay. But hurry!” Even though she was chilled to the bone, panic etched into her tone, sweat now dotting her forehead.
“Easy there, girl. I’m almost there.” Andrew talked as he made his way around the room, and his efforts calmed her nerves.
“Where’s Sam?”
“She’s checking on the generator.”
“She didn’t go outside, did she?” If someone had been in the house, the last place she needed to be was outside by herself.
“Did something happen? Why are you so freaked out? The dark’s never bothered you before.”
“I’m losing my mind, Andrew. I thought I heard someone breathing in the hallway. But that’s silly, right? How did they get in? How would they have gotten out before you guys got in?” A nervous laugh escaped her trembling lips.
“No, not silly. I’ll check it out. Promise.” And then Andrew was by her side. “We need to find Sam.”
In the next instance, light bathed the room.
“Looks like she found the problem.” Andrew pulled her back and searched her face. “You don’t look well. Didn’t the doctor give you a mild sedative?”
She nodded.
“I know you hate to take pills, but you’ve been through some serious trauma shit. You need to take those so your body can relax and have time to heal. I’m not trying to say you didn’t hear something, and I plan to check all the doors and windows. But it looks like your mind might be playing tricks on you.”
Another nod.
“I’ll get them for you.”
“No, find Sam first.” Still unconvinced, her gaze darted around the room. “I need to know she’s okay.”
“Damn freaking raccoons. Tore the damn wires right out of the box.” The mere sound of Sam’s sarcastic voice made Joanna sigh with relief. Even from the kitchen, her disgust rang clear.
“Did you fix it?” Andrew took a few steps into the hallway, his arm still around Joanna.
“For now. We’re on generator power. I’ll have to call an electrician in the morning though. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“See? She’s perfectly fine and filthy mouthed as ever,” Andrew chuckled, cocking his head and lifting his brow in an I-told-you-so look. “She’s been having trouble with a family of raccoons for months. They’re trying to set up shop in the attic and causing a ruckus. Persistent little critters.”
“Raccoons? You sure?”
“Yep. Last week the little tyrants ran off with her swim top from the back porch and returned later to snag a piece of deer sausage out of the cooler she’d planned to BBQ for dinner.” He patted her arm. “I’m not trying to play down your fears. You’ve been through hell, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. But it’s over. You’re safe now.”
Joanna smiled even though she didn’t want to. Something felt off. The breathing sounded so heavy, so close, so real. As a shiver shook her, she cleared away the eerie thoughts and pictured Sam’s face as the raccoons ran off with her dinner—deer sausage and backstrap more precious than gold and jewels to her friend. “She’s not threatening to buy a gun, is she?”
“Afraid she’s already gone and done that. I told her she’s on her own disposing of those furry bodies. Not sure she liked that.”
“Oh, dear.” Sam holding a gun was a scary concept. The girl couldn’t even throw a ball straight. Never had good aim. “She’ll probably shoot herself in the foot or a neighbor.”
“I know. I know. That’s why I haven’t shown her how to load it yet.”
“Showed me what, yet?” Sam appeared out of nowhere, her hands hovering on her hips.
“He said you bought a gun.”
“A girl has to protect herself.”
“Just promise me you’ll take classes before you try shooting anything.”
“Already done that, too.” Her friend’s chest puffed out with pride.
Andrew turned toward Sam, shocked. “You did what? When?”
“Look, I’ve always been able to take care of myself. I’m not stupid. I’d never buy a gun and not train to use it. My instructor said I’m getting pretty damn good at it, too.”
Andrew shook his head. “I’ll get you those pills so you can rest better tonight, Jo Jo.” He waved a hand over his head and headed toward the kitchen.
Sam’s expression changed to concern. “You look pale, hon. Does your leg hurt? Are you having any headaches?”
“No, I just scared the pee out of me.”
Sam giggled. “Still funny after all these years, you know?”
“It’s funny now. A few minutes ago I was ready to climb out of my skin.”
“Why? What happened? You’ve never been afraid of the dark.”
“Nothing really. I just let my imagination get the best of me. Everything sounds different in the dark.”
“Okay. If you say so.” He friend didn’t sound convinced.
“I do.” Subject change. And quick. “So you really have a gun? Here? With you? Bullets and everything?”
“Yeah, it’s in the living room. Nothing fancy. 9mm Berretta, so it’ll stop’em cold. I don’t want to piss them off. I want them dead.”
“Whoa. You’re talking about the raccoons, right?”
“Of course, silly. But I pity any idiot who tries stupid shit with me.”
Andrew rounded the corner with her pill bottle in one hand and a large glass of water in the other. “Here you go. I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted. I checked everything out, and we’re secure. So how about we get some sleep.”
Joanna cut her eyes from Sam to Andrew. “Would you stay with me, Sam? Just for a little while?”
…
Ryker stood ramrod stiff against the side of the ambulance, bracing himself for what the travel agent would say. The young woman had woken from her unconscious state and immediately asked for him by name.
Creepy.
He pushed off and nodded, giving his body the extra momentum needed to proceed.
“Deputy Kane?” The woman spoke the moment she saw him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He moved closer, wanting to make it easier for her to talk without straining, but also wanting to keep his distance. Her asking for him by name didn’t sit well with him. “I’m glad to see you’re awake, Mrs. Todd.”
“I have a message for you, deputy.”
Shit.
“Checkmate?” She looked confused. Like she didn’t understand the message herself.
“The man who kidnapped you told you to say that?” Now, what did that mean.
She nodded. “He made me promise. Said he’d hurt my baby.” She choked out the last word.
“What else did he say?”
She shook her head. “He mostly yelled at the other woman. Oh God. That poor woman.” A sob caught at the base of her throat, stealing her next breath. But she forced it back and continued. “Is she okay?”
Ryker’s skin prickled. So she hadn’t seen the brutal murder. A godsend for her. “I’m afraid not. Can you tell us what happened? How many suspects there were? Anything to help catch these people?”
“I thought they were all working together. I mean the woman is the one who jumped me at my car and snatched my purse after work. That’s when the second man pulled a gun on me, told me I had to come with them. I think she called him…Frank?”
“Good. That’s good, Mrs. Todd. What else?”
“When we got to the hotel, there was another man waiting. He didn’t look or sound good. He wore a black hood over his face and a long sleeve shirt and loose pants. I think something was horribly wrong with him. He sounded in pain. Horrible pain, like he needed a doctor.”
“Did you catch a name?”
“Yes. Once toward the end, the woman called him Keith, I think. That’s when he went ballistic. Started hitting her. Calling her awful names.” Tears flooded her eyes, and she turned her face away. “He was so angry and said she ruined everything. There was no way he’d let her live when his days were numbered. She told him if he’d let her take him to the hospital, they’d be able to help him, keep the infection from spreading. But he…he blew up and said he could never live physically scarred and broken, that having to live that way internally was enough.” She paused and met his gaze. “Does any of this help?”
“Yes. Yes, it does. I know this is difficult.” Ryker ached for the young woman. What she’d seen, heard. “What did the other man, Frank, do when Keith started hitting the woman?”
She turned away as tears emerged. “He’d already left.”
Son of a bitch. Not what he wanted to hear. “Thank you. Try and rest, Mrs. Todd. They tell me your husband is on his way to meet you at the hospital.”
“I hope you find them, Deputy Kane. Before he hurts anyone else.” She cried then, deep heavy sobs that rocked her entire body.
Ryker could barely think straight as he stormed off toward Sheriff Wade, unable to bear watching her struggle. Shit. Shit. Shit. Frank had left earlier, had a head start. And Keith was in bad shape, unconcerned about medical attention to heal his wounds because he considered his life over already. That little tidbit worried him the most.
“Boy, you look ready to explode.” Sheriff Wade met him halfway across the parking lot.
“We’ve got a problem. You know anyone in the Lynnville Police department?”
“I do.”
“Good. See if they’ve got a car out to this address. Hell, have them send more. I’m on my way now.” He pulled up Sam’s text message and forwarded it to Wade. “I believe this will be our suspect’s next and final stop.”
“Why?”
“Joanna McNamee is there.”
“Oh, hell no! I’m on it.” Wade pulled out his phone and started dialing.
“I’ve already filled Turow in. But I thought you’d want to know.”
Wade nodded in thanks, ear glued to his phone. Thank goodness the sheriff’s ties with Clint McNamee outweighed any ill feelings he had toward Ryker. The older man looked anxious, like a member of his own family was in jeopardy. And Ryker felt the same damn way.
He didn’t wait for permission or instructions. He had no intention of hanging back, off duty, on leave or not. Once inside the privacy of his truck, he tried Sam’s number again and thought he’d lose it when the call went to voicemail. Tension tightened the muscles of his neck and chest.
Hang in there, Jo Jo.
He checked his watch. It was already after three in the morning. He’d be lucky to make the hour drive to Lake Lynnville in less time, due to the late-night construction near the beltway.
Rage festered inside like a fury of fire. Keith should already be off the streets, locked up, out of commission. Damn Senator Whalen and his fucking interference.