Sunday morning Tiffany called, barely able to contain her glee. “Have you seen the paper yet?”
Charlotte was in the midst of making crepes, with the phone clasped between her shoulder and her neck. “No, why? Is there a positive mention of the fundraiser?”
“Better than positive. Go look. I’ll hang on.”
“Jace,” Charlotte called to the dining room where the entire Dalton gang had descended for breakfast and to do a postmortem—Sawyer’s words—of the event. “Tiffany is on the phone. She wants you to look at the paper.”
A short time later Jace came into the kitchen, took the phone from Charlotte and said, “Tiff, I have to call you back.”
He hung up with a solemn expression on his face.
“What’s wrong? Tiffany said the coverage was good.”
He took the batter bowl from her and put it down on the counter. “Come in here for a sec.”
She followed him back to the dining room, where the local paper was spread out on the table. There was a picture of her up on tiptoes, straightening Jace’s collar, the fake engagement ring twinkling in the flash of the camera’s strobe.
Charlotte’s first thought was that Jace was furious about the ring. Very quickly, though, she saw the real problem.
“Oh no.” She put her hand to her heart. “How did this happen?” It was a ridiculous question. There were at least three newspaper and TV photographers at the event and lord knew the number of attendees taking pictures with their phones to post on social media. “I’m such an idiot.” She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d inadvertently left a road map for Corbin.
“Nope, that distinction goes to me,” Jace said and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m the cop, I should’ve thought about pictures, about the security issues they posed.”
“Ainsley already knows you’re somewhere in Mill County.” Sawyer hitched his shoulders. “And if he sees the picture in the paper, or online, he’ll know you attended a campaign fundraiser for the sheriff. Doesn’t seem like the end of the world.”
Cash slid the paper across the table under Sawyer’s face. “What does that picture look like to you?”
Charlotte didn’t have to take a second look. How did the adage go? A picture’s worth a thousand words. She and Jace were staring at each other with such heat in their eyes that she was surprised the newspaper hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Throw in the sparkling diamond ring and Corbin was bound to form his own conclusions and go crazy with possessiveness.
Oddly, no one had mentioned Tiffany’s diamond ring, not even Jace. She certainly didn’t feel the need to bring it up. The situation was bad enough as it was.
Sawyer took a long look and grimaced. “Yeah, I see what you mean.” He pushed the paper back at Jace.
“There’s not much we can do about it now,” Jace said. “The truth is I’ve been waiting for this thing to come to a head. We’ll just have to be more vigilant about security when Charlie’s here alone. And when Ainsley comes, I’ll be ready.”
“We’ll be ready,” Cash corrected.
Charlotte didn’t want this. She didn’t want to disrupt these good people’s lives or ruin Jace’s chances at reelection with yet another scandal. Most of all, she didn’t want the stink of Corbin to touch Travis and Grady.
Her stay here had been a dream, and leaving Jace and his family behind would be like driving a stake through her heart. But the time had come to return to her original plan. She didn’t even care about her own safety anymore. She cared about protecting the people she loved.
After breakfast Jace found her in her in her bedroom.
“You okay?”
She sat on the edge of the bed, fidgeting. “I guess in this day of social media and phone cameras it was inevitable that a picture of me would eventually surface. I just wish you hadn’t gotten caught up in it.”
He leaned against the dresser and his gaze slipped to her left hand. “What was up with the ring?” So, he had noticed. Charlotte felt a bead of perspiration trickle down her neck.
Jace’s expression remained neutral and she couldn’t tell whether he was angry. For a second, she considered lying but there’d been enough of that already. Jace deserved the truth and she deserved his rebuke for being duplicitous, even if she’d only had his best interests in mind.
She cleared her throat. “Tiffany thought if I wore the ring people would think we were engaged and it would put the old rumor about you and Aubrey to rest, or at least give everyone something else to talk about. Ultimately, she thought it would help your chances for reelection.”
This time, she saw anger flicker across his face and Charlotte braced herself for his temper.
But he didn’t move from the dresser and in a low voice said, “And you thought that was a good idea?”
“I didn’t think it could hurt and…I wanted to help you.” She shoved her hands under her legs to stop them from shaking. “Please don’t be mad.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded weak. Pathetic.
“I am mad, Charlie. It was a lie designed to manipulate voters. It’s everything I’m against and you of all people should know that about me.”
She did and yet she’d worn the ring anyway. “I…uh…wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t.” He turned on his heels and started for the door.
“Jace,” she called to him. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry.”
He whirled around and she flinched.
“I know you are,” he said. “And I know you were only trying to help. But I wish you would’ve talked to me first.”
He walked out of the room, leaving Charlotte alone on the bed.
He was furious. Very, very angry, which he had every right to be. But he hadn’t hit her or even raised his voice.
* * * *
Sunday passed in a blur. While Tiffany and Jace’s family had deemed the fundraiser a rousing success, he wasn’t so sure. He’d talked to at least a dozen people at the barbecue who said they were leaning toward Jolly.
“No offense. You’ve been a great sheriff but maybe it’s time for new blood,” Mercedes Aguilar, Mitch’s secretary at Reynolds Construction, had told him. Of course, she was devoted to Mitch and still nursed residual resentment over Aubrey and Mitch’s breakup and Mitch’s subsequent arrest. But she’d once been a loyal member of Jace’s fan club.
Jace supposed he should take solace in the fact that people like Mama, the owner of Mama’s Towing and one of his toughest critics, was continuing to stand by him.
Time would tell. But at least he had the barbecue behind him. And Corbin Fucking Ainsley in front of him. It didn’t take an FBI profiler to know that the ring Charlie had worn in the picture was like throwing down the gauntlet to a man like Ainsley.
Oh well, it was done now. And Charlie’s heart had been in the right place. She’d worn the ring for him. For the sake of his reelection. He’d forgiven her. But Ainsley…Jace was looking forward to meeting the sumbitch face-to-face.
He looked up at the clock on the wall and got to his feet. On the way out of the office, he told Annabeth to hold his calls and walked to Mother Lode Road.
April was just a few days away, but the temperature hadn’t gotten the memo. Jace zipped up his vest and pulled his hat down low.
Cash and Sawyer were waiting for him at the coffee shop at their usual table, where a pitcher of sarsaparilla and a fresh decanter of coffee waited.
“We took the liberty of ordering for you,” Sawyer said. “Cash has to be in Placer County by two.”
Jace took off his hat and hung it off a steer horn on the wall. “What’s going on in Placer County?”
“A couple of drive-by shootings. Some idiot or idiots are picking off sheep in the fields.” Cash poured himself a cup of coffee.
“You talk to the sheriff over there? He’s a good guy.”
“We’re working it together,” Cash said. “So far, no suspects.”
“What kind of asshole does something like that?” Sawyer reached across the table for the coffee decanter.
“Don’t know, but I hope you catch whoever’s responsible.” Jace poured himself a glass of the sarsaparilla. If he had another cup of coffee he’d be bouncing off the walls.
“I don’t have much time either. Grady’s getting his cast off this afternoon.” Charlie had volunteered to take him, but Jace thought he’d make a surprise appearance at the doctor’s office and take everyone out for dinner after the big reveal. “So let me get right to the point.” He’d put off telling his cousins long enough. “Randy Beals told me he’s selling his ranch.”
“Ah, shit.” Sawyer rubbed his hand down his face.
“I guess it was inevitable.” Cash, always the pragmatist. “Does he have a buyer yet?”
Jace shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like he’s listed it and has given us first dibs. I told him we couldn’t even pay Grandpa’s back taxes. Where we at on that, anyway?”
“I’ve got my end covered. Just sold the foreign rights on my last book. My agent’s still working out the details but it should be a decent payout. I’m willing to put any extra toward your end of it.” He looked first at Jace and then at Cash.
“Congratulations on the foreign rights,” Cash said. “But no one expects you to carry all three of us. I talked to an investment broker about borrowing against my 401(k). Right now, it’s looking like my best option.”
Cash’s gaze fell on Jace, who only had one possession worth anything that would even come close to paying his share. It would hurt to part with it. But it was that…or nothing.
“I’ve been doing some research on the internet,” he said. “And it looks like Grandpa’s coin collection might be worth something.”
“He left that to you,” Sawyer said and jabbed his fork in the air. “That was something you two did together. He wouldn’t want you to sell it.”
Jace was a kid when he and his grandfather had started going to coin shows together. They’d even gone to the New York International Numismatic Convention at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. It had been Jace’s first trip to the Big Apple, which had made a lasting impression. Never in his life did he want to live in a big city. Too many damned people.
But the convention had been exciting. Coins from all over the world, many of them ancient. He and his grandfather had been blown away by the history in that room. Jace would always remember the experience.
“The coins were a hobby, the ranch was Grandpa’s life,” Jace said. “It’ll be sad to give up that piece of him, but I can live with it if it means holding on to the land, holding on to our legacy.”
“Even if we manage to pay the arrears and the regularly scheduled payment this time, we’ll have to pay again in November,” Cash said.
“So? No matter where, unless we plan to rent for the rest of our lives, we’d have to pay property taxes, Cash.”
“Not on five hundred acres of prime real estate worth a fortune. But you fucking well know that, Jace. All I’m saying is that if we’re committed to keeping the ranch we have to come up with a plan to support it, not fly by the seat of our pants. We need to have a slush fund so we don’t have to beg, borrow, and steal every time a property tax or insurance bill comes due.”
“Fine, Cash. What’s the plan?” Jace knew he sounded like a dick, but it was his default when he was clueless about what to do. The cattle operation was a nice side-hustle that paid for itself with a little left over for small upgrades on the ranch. But it didn’t pay the big bills. “I’m open to anything you’ve got.”
“What if, instead of selling off some of the land, we develop a hundred acres ourselves. Big lots, maybe five acres each, with nice houses that we can sell for a hefty price. We could start a trust with the profits that’ll tide us over for at least the next ten years.”
“Nope.” Sawyer was adamant. “We’ve been over this. We’re not breaking up the land. Come up with a better plan.”
“Ditto to what Sawyer said,” Jace seconded. “Not happening, Cash.”
“Okay, then let’s hear your ideas.” Cash looked at his cousins.
“Buy Randy’s land and grow the cattle operation.” Sawyer grinned. “Go big or go home, right?”
“You’re delusional.”
This time, Jace agreed with Cash. Sawyer lived on an alternate planet from the rest of them.
“I say we focus on paying the tax bill for right now, then come up with a plan for the future.” Between Charlie’s situation and the upcoming primary, Jace was mentally tapped out. But he had been giving a lot of thought to Charlie’s idea about developing a ranch-related business besides raising cattle to support the land.
“I second that.”
Their food came and they ate in companionable silence for a while, each man lost in his own thoughts.
“Maybe we should do what Charlie does and sell junk,” Cash said as he finished his sandwich. “You know how much she pedals that stuff in her workshop for? A small fortune, that’s how much.”
Jace’s lips quirked. “It’s not junk when she gets through with it.”
“Aubrey’s bringing over two clients today with deep pockets.” Cash scratched his jaw. “I don’t get it.”
“What’s there to get? Charlie’s a good businesswoman. She’s as clever as she is creative.” Beautiful too. In the months she’d been living at the ranch, she and Jace had become a true team in every sense of the word.
“Shit.” Cash caught the time and reached for his wallet. “I’ve gotta go.”
“I’ll take care of the bill,” Sawyer said. “You can get me next time.”
Cash took off, leaving Jace and Sawyer to finish their sandwiches together.
“Anything new with that woman you talked to about Angie and the co-op in New Mexico?” Jace asked.
“Nada. I’m still deciding whether to go in person. My head’s been in finishing the book and the foreign rights sale on the other one.”
“Pretty impressive.” Jace leaned across the table and smacked Sawyer upside the head. “You’re a freaking rock star. Grandpa would’ve been so damned proud. We all are, you know?”
Sawyer seemed mildly embarrassed by the praise. “I wish Ange was around. She was my biggest cheerleader, used to call me Mr. Fourth Estate. I got a big kick out of that.”
“We all wish she was around, Sawyer. You writing today?”
“Every day.” He drained the rest of his coffee and flagged the server for their bill. “Grady’s getting his cast off, huh?”
“Yup. He was bouncing off the walls all evening, excited about seeing his actual arm again. It’s just a matter of time before he breaks something else. The kid doesn’t know how to sit still.”
“He’s hyper all right, but he hasn’t scared Charlie off.”
“Nope, she’s tougher than she looks.”
Sawyer perused the long row of credit cards in his wallet before choosing one. “She did a nice job with the fundraiser. I wasn’t too sure about her in the beginning, but I think she’s good for you. That smile you’ve been sporting ever since she showed up is starting to get nauseating, you know?”
“I wish Ainsley wasn’t hanging over her head.”
“Maybe he isn’t. Since she filed the restraining order it doesn’t seem like it would’ve been that hard to find her. Mill County’s tiny and people here like to talk. Any investigator worth his salt would’ve located her in ten seconds. And someone like Ainsley could afford the best, which makes me think he’s not looking.”
Jace thought about it all the way back to the office. Sawyer had good instincts about these kinds of things. Ainsley had to be concerned about his legal exposure. Criminal juries didn’t like defendants who kicked and beat their pregnant girlfriends. Why show up and make more trouble for himself?
By the time he left for Grady’s appointment, he’d halfway convinced himself that the threat level had dropped to low.
* * * *
Charlotte had made another sale, this one her largest of all. One of Aubrey’s clients whipped through the barn like a tornado, buying everything in sight.
The iron-gate-turned-headboard, the wagon-wheel chandelier, the trough garden fountain, the wheelbarrow planter, the barn door, and a number of other items Charlotte had picked up here and there and repurposed along the way.
The client had recently purchased a vacation home on a private lake near the Nevada state line and wanted to get it onto Vrbo as quickly as possible so it could start paying for itself. And the place needed to be completely furnished.
She and Aubrey were coming back with a moving truck on Tuesday and had already given Charlotte a fat check made out to Jace Dalton. It was currently tucked away in Jace’s safe with the rest of Charlotte’s earnings. Now there was hardly anything left in the workshop, just a lot of odds and ends that Charlotte had collected along the way but had no plans for.
It was good, she told herself. She’d accomplished her goal of repurposing everything she’d taken from old man Maitland’s barn and then some. Friday, Sissy was coming to pick up the chair and sofa. So when Charlotte stole away Saturday morning, no one would be able to say she hadn’t fulfilled her commitments. Instead of one week, she’d given Jace two months.
Two of the best months of her life.
She dried her eyes and ordered herself to grow a spine. When Corbin came she would no longer be here. That way, he couldn’t complicate anyone else’s life.
Jace’s reelection bid was precarious enough. A showdown with the influential Ainsley family was the last thing he needed.
Meredith had instructed her to leave as soon as possible, but Charlotte had to get her ducks in a row first, starting with Jace. She wasn’t going to tell him she was leaving but wanted to make sure he and the kids were taken care of before she hit the road.
Those were her thoughts as she left the ranch to pick up the boys in time for Grady’s appointment. He wanted that cast off in the worst way, and Aubrey’s client had held Charlotte up.
She raced to the gate, wishing she didn’t have to spend the extra time getting out of the car to open and close it. It was a gorgeous day. So sunny, she’d been fooled into not wearing a jacket. For the first time this month, it felt like spring. A crop of poppies and lilacs had started to bloom in the fields and everywhere Charlotte looked she saw bursts of color. Even the air smelled fragrant with flowers.
She breathed in the glorious scent, swung the gate open and drove to the other side, then rushed back out to relock it. The boys liked to hop on the bottom rail, push off with their feet, and ride the gate closed. Though tempted to try it, Charlotte lifted the heavy iron just high enough to keep the bottom from dragging in the dirt and quickly shut it behind her.
She got in the driver’s seat, locked her door, and turned onto Dry Creek Road. That’s when she felt it. A swish of air on the back of her neck and something cold and steely against her skin.
“Keep driving.” The voice was low and cruel and the last time she’d heard it she was on the floor, battered and broken from being repeatedly kicked.
“Corbin…no…for God’s sake don’t do this.” Her eyes darted to the passenger seat, unable to remember if her phone was out or still in her handbag.
“What are you looking for, Charlotte?”
She didn’t respond, just scanned the road hoping to see a familiar car and somehow send out an SOS. Cash, Sawyer, anyone.
They were only a short distance to the highway and with every mile marker her chance for rescue or escape diminished. By the time the boys realized she wasn’t coming for them, Charlotte could be anywhere.
“A restraining order, Charlotte? I could be disbarred for the shit you’re accusing me of. Do you and your fucking fiancé want to get me disbarred? Huh, Charlotte?”
“No, Corbin.” He liked her submissive, and if she was going to come out of this, she’d have to play the part. Even if it made her gorge rise.
She considered jumping out of the vehicle but was afraid she’d either kill herself in the process or Corbin would shoot her before she got both feet out the door. She was sure it was a gun she felt on her neck.
“Corbin, just let me go and I’ll withdraw the restraining order.”
He laughed. “Too late for that now. Besides, we’ve got a lot to talk about, a lot of lost time to make up for. So you’re engaged, huh? I could’ve given you everything but instead you settle for some hayseed sheriff in the middle of nowhere. What the hell’s wrong with you, Charlotte?”
He smelled of alcohol and she’d never known him to be a heavy drinker. Then again, she hadn’t known a lot of things about Corbin Ainsley. Not until he’d managed to control every aspect of her life.
He shoved the hunk of steel harder against her neck. “Up at the highway make a right. Away from that little shithole town where your boyfriend the rent-a-cop is.”
She felt relieved and petrified at the same time. Leave Jace out of this. “Where are we going?”
“Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte. Always with the questions. You think you would’ve learned by now.”
“Why are you doing this, Corbin? Why are you jeopardizing your career, your father’s career?”
He laughed again. “Since when are you concerned about my career? You go off, lose our child, and hook up with the first guy you meet. What kind of woman does something like that, huh, Charlotte? I wanted to give you my name and what did you do? You played me, you threw me over like a chump. And now you’re flaunting your goddamn engagement in my face.”
Corbin was slurring his words and Charlotte feared he might be on something besides alcohol. She also worried that after he was finished with her, he’d exact his revenge on Jace.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not engaged. Please, Corbin, just let me go,” she pleaded.
“You’re never going anywhere again, Charlotte. You think I’d let you get away with taking my kid away from me? What did you do, get rid of the baby on purpose? We were supposed to be a family.”
They’d gotten to the stoplight at the intersection of the highway and Charlotte prayed that a neighbor would pass by and see her. Then again, what good would it do? Corbin was crouched down in the back seat and this was the same route she took every day at this time to pick up the boys. Nothing to see here.
“I told you to go right,” he commanded.
But the light had turned red and there was oncoming traffic. This was her last chance. Once they hit the highway, she’d be completely at Corbin’s mercy. If she wanted to escape she had to do it now.
Jump and run.
She reached for the door handle but Corbin snaked his arm around her throat and pressed cold metal against her larynx.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Please,” she whimpered.
The light was green.
“Turn!”
With no other choice, she did what he said. “Where are we going?”
“Do you ever stop talking, Charlotte? God, you used to give me such a headache with your endless nattering. Your fucking store. No one gave a shit about your fucking store.”
“Where are we going, Corbin?” she asked, and this time her voice was strong. Her fear had collided with anger. Why had he searched her out? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
Men like Corbin can never let it go, Charlotte. They always have to win.
That’s what Meredith had told her in those first few frightening days when Charlotte had planned her stealth getaway. It had been both a warning and a pep talk to leave, to move far, far away.
He cackled. “Where do you want to go, Charlotte? How about straight to hell?”
She drove, wishing she could flag down one of the motorists headed in the opposite direction. But they whizzed by her in a blur of color, oblivious to her plight.
She passed the motel where Jace had brought her that first night. Past the Dutch Bros. Coffee kiosk where an endless line of cars waited. Then the urgent care facility where she’d been treated after the miscarriage. The same hospital where she’d taken Grady for his broken arm.
It was surreal watching all these places whir by in her rearview mirror while Corbin held a gun to the back of her head. Soon, they’d be approaching the entrance to Interstate 80. What would Corbin do then?
At some point, the boys would notify Jace that she hadn’t picked them up and he would eventually alert the Highway Patrol to be on the lookout for her Honda. The interstate would be her best chance for rescue.
But Corbin wasn’t an idiot. Certainly he knew they’d be easier to spot on a major interstate.
“Keep going,” he said when they came to the on-ramp, and what little hope she had plummeted.
They crossed the freeway and Charlotte was lost. She’d never been south of Auburn on Highway 49 and had no idea what lay ahead.
They drove for what seemed like miles. And the farther they went, the curvier the road got, with hairpin turns and sheer drops into a river much larger than Dry Creek. Charlotte was petrified, her foot riding the brake and her hands squeezing the wheel. But Corbin was losing his patience.
“Pick up the pace,” he said so close to her ear that it made her jump in her seat.
She weighed the possibility of driving off the mountainside but didn’t like her chances. The drop would likely kill them both.
She needed a better escape route.
After twenty minutes of twists and turns, the road became flat and straight and much more manageable. If not for Corbin sitting behind her, she would’ve found her breath.
They sped by a cluster of old Western-style buildings and continued past signs advertising white-water rafting tours and adventures. The drive seemed endless. And to nowhere.
“Pull in here.” Corbin ordered her down a turnout that was little more than a dirt road.
She followed his command until they came to a fork in the trail, where Corbin told her to take a right onto a bumpy lane that was no more than a car-width wide. The area was wooded and there didn’t seem to be a house for miles.
Ahead, she made out water, and the closer they got to it she realized it was a river. Likely the same river from where they’d come. In the distance, there was a large trestle bridge but Charlotte couldn’t tell how far away it was. It appeared to be close to the little Western town they’d passed, but fear had thrown off her sense of direction.
“Stop here.”
Her car, along with her heart, skidded to a halt.
“Where are we?”
“Your final resting place.” Corbin stuck his head up front and the smell of liquor filled the cab as if it was emanating from his pores. He must’ve been on a bender for days. “Get out of the car.”
She wanted to stall, find her phone or anything she could use as a weapon, but Corbin jammed the barrel of what she could now plainly see was a pistol against her arm. Slowly, she opened the door and slid out, trying to get her bearings.
“This is crazy, Corbin.” She wanted to say that he would never get away with whatever maniacal plan he had in store but she was wrong. No one would ever find her here. He could dump her remains in the rushing river, dispose of her car, and make up an alibi. No one would ever be the wiser.
“We’ve got a lot of talking to do, Char. A lot of catching up.”
“Oh God.” She shuddered. Before, Corbin had always seemed sane, just mean and controlling. Now she swore he was completely off his rocker.
* * * *
Jace was going out of his mind. He had two technicians tracing Charlie’s GPS: the one in her vehicle and the one on her phone. Earlier, he’d put out a BOLO for Charlie’s CR-V.
“Jace, is there a chance she just left, went to Colorado or somewhere else to hide?” Cash asked on the other end of the phone.
“She wouldn’t have done that. What did Aubrey say? Was she there earlier?”
“Yep, brought a client and says everything seemed normal. She locked the gate on her way out.”
None of this made sense. If Charlie planned to leave she wouldn’t have taken off in the middle of the day, leaving the boys stranded. And he’d like to think she wouldn’t have taken off without at least saying goodbye.
“Sawyer went to the house. Her suitcase, her clothes, everything is still there. Her sewing machines are in the workshop. She wouldn’t have left without them.” Or without at least leaving a note. These last two months had to have meant something to her. “This doesn’t smell right, Cash. Ainsley saw the picture, figured out where she was, and now he has her, I feel it in my gut.”
“I’m on my way back from Placer,” Cash said. “Try to stay calm.”
Easy for Cash to say. It wasn’t his woman.
Reggie came into his office. “Jace, we may have gotten something.”
“Cash, I’ve gotta go.” Jace gave his full attention to the watch commander.
“No luck with her phone. It’s probably turned off,” Reggie said. “But her car has HondaLink, which has an OnStar-type service that can track the location of her car. We’re talking to an adviser from the company, trying to determine whether we need a search warrant.”
“A search warrant?” Jace’s head was about to explode.
Reggie held up his hands. “Jace, we’re operating on the theory that her ex abducted her. There’s no evidence that that’s the case. Come on, man, think like a cop. Think about HondaLink’s exposure here.”
Jace counted to ten, trying to hold himself in check. Screw privacy at a time like this. He knew in his heart of hearts that Ainsley had her. And every second they spent jerking off was critical.
“Annabeth,” he bellowed. “Get the Rosie the Riveter Foundation on the phone. I want to talk to Meredith.” Jace didn’t even know Meredith’s last name. But the organization had been used as a shill to purchase Charlie’s car, and perhaps Meredith could talk some sense into Honda or whoever the hell owned the car service application.
Annabeth appeared in the doorway. “Deputy Anderson just called. He found a Porsche Cayman hidden in a grove of trees just off Dry Creek Road, about a half mile from your ranch. Plates come back to Corbin Ainsley.”
Jace pinned Reggie with a look.
“I’m on it.”
“Send HondaLink a copy of the goddamn restraining order,” Jace called to Reggie as he jogged down the hall.
Ainsley was sloppy. You’d think a guy with a freaking law degree would’ve planned this out better. Jace should’ve been elated by Ainsley’s mistakes. Instead, it scared him to death. The man was operating like he had nothing to lose, which in Jace’s mind could only mean one thing.
* * * *
Corbin dragged Charlotte by the back of her collar to the river’s edge. She patted her pockets, foolishly searching for her phone.
Corbin laughed. “You left it in your purse on the floor of the car, Char. Hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of chucking your battery into the woods while you were screwing around with that piece-of-shit gate. Besides, who you going to call? Nine-one-one? Think they’ll find you in time?”
She couldn’t even tell anyone where she was. Near a river. There were about half a dozen in Mill County alone. She shivered, thinking about how isolated they were.
“Oh Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte.” He glanced her over. “Should’ve worn a jacket. Then again you never had the sense God gave geese, now did you?”
Corbin looked disheveled, like he’d slept in the same clothes for a week. Charlotte remembered how persnickety he used to be about his suits. God forbid the dry cleaner used those tiny safety pins to tack his pants to the paper hanger. He’d fly into a rage, threatening to put them out of business.
“By the way, your dyke sister’s been looking for you. There’s another one who’s dumber than a doornail.” He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, Charlotte, huh?”
“Corbin—”
“Did I ask you to talk?” He pushed her onto the hard ground. “Do you know how much I loved you? How much I wanted to take care of you? Always with that shop. That ridiculous shop. Here I was, giving you a house in Presidio Heights and it still wasn’t good enough. Anything you wanted, I gave you. Anything. But none of it was good enough. Not my name, not my child, not my love. Not a goddamned thing.”
She felt around her for a fallen branch or a rock, anything with which to hit Corbin over the head. “I loved you too, Corbin. Maybe we could start over again.” The idea filled her throat with bile.
“I wouldn’t take you back if you were the last woman on earth. You’re a disloyal bitch. And a fucking drama queen. You’d think I’d chained you to the wall and forced you to eat cockroaches the way you ran from me. You know how many times I had to lie about you to my father?”
“Where’s Charlotte?”
“She’s in Portland, her mother’s sick.”
“How come Charlotte’s not here?”
“She’s under the weather.”
“Did Charlotte leave you, Corbin?”
“What are you crazy? Charlotte and I are forever, Dad.”
He looked down at her on the dirt, drew his leg back, and kicked her in the side. Hard. Charlotte doubled over.
“Get up.”
She was trembling now. Not from the cold but from his flinty stare. His eyes were like dark quartz. Hard and unyielding. He lifted the gun and she froze.
Oh God, this is it.
“I said get up!”
Even from where she lay sprawled on the ground, she could smell him. Booze and desperation. His hand shook ever so slightly. And for a second, she thought, Just kill me. Get it over with and put me out of my misery.
Just as quickly, a red-hot rage overtook her. This man had held her hostage long enough. He’d irrevocably changed her life. And why? Because she’d loved him and hadn’t been strong enough—or smart enough—to realize that love shouldn’t be binding. It shouldn’t control a person. It shouldn’t make them bleed and turn black and blue.
He was yelling now. His face red and puffy and distorted. Her anger, rushing through her like a torrent, drowned out the sound of his voice. It was as if he’d become a character in a silent movie. All his movements exaggerated, but no words.
You’re brave, Charlie. Take your life back. Jace’s words roared in her head.
Charlotte didn’t think. She didn’t allow fear to overwhelm her. Pretending to get up, she hurled herself at Corbin’s legs, knocking him on his back. The gun fell out of his hand and skittered a few feet away.
She didn’t bother to scoop it off the ground—and wouldn’t have known what to do with it even if she had—and ran as fast and far as she could go. She blindly headed in the direction of the road, hoping she could flag someone down for help. But the keys to her Honda were still in the car.
She had no delusions that she’d permanently incapacitated Corbin. He wasn’t a particularly large man but he was strong. And crazy. At best, her attack had only momentarily thrown him off guard. Once he recovered, he’d have the advantage in her CR-V.
She changed direction, running as fast as she could while searching for a good place to hide. Up ahead there was a dense thicket of pine and blue oak trees and she veered for cover. The wind whistled through the branches, making an ominous sound. At first, Charlotte thought it was Corbin coming after her. She turned to look over her shoulder, stumbled over a rock, and tumbled into a ravine covered in leaves.
Her heart stopped. Had he seen her fall? Had he heard her? She crawled behind the trunk of a fir tree and listened. Nothing besides the sound of rushing water and the rustling of trees.
But Corbin was out there somewhere.
She waited for a beat, her pulse quickening. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost a shoe and her foot was bleeding.
A twig snapped and she held her breath, wondering how visible she was. She had on a red cowl neck and blue jeans, not exactly good camouflage colors.
Please be a forest creature, she prayed.
The area didn’t seem well traveled by humans, at least this time of year. Perhaps it got more visitors in summer when tourists came to play in the river.
After what seemed like an eternity, she shuddered with relief. The noise hadn’t come from Corbin.
Still, he was searching for her, she knew that instinctively. He’d wait her out and no one would be able to find her to come to her rescue. If she had even a slight chance of surviving this, she needed to do more to conceal herself until she came up with a plan to get to the main road undetected.
She buried herself under a mound of leaves with just enough space for a clear airway so she could breathe. The sun was starting to set and she could feel the cold air bite through her clothes. In the distance, she heard something crackle and closed her eyes, waiting for it, helpless.
Something or someone was coming closer.