by Diana Palmer
He shrugged. “A little ragged, that’s all. I called Coltrain. He says she’ll be fine. The minute she can be moved, she’s coming home with us,” he added.
Winnie hesitated. “She’s not going to want to do that.”
“She’s doing it, anyway. Has anybody called her mother?” he asked.
Clark came in from the soda machine with two Cokes. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked the two men. He frowned at Boone. “What in hell happened to you?”
“A slight altercation,” Boone said nonchalantly. “I’d like a black coffee, if you’re taking orders.”
Clark grinned. “Anything for my big brother,” he murmured, and left again.
“I’ll drive by Keely’s house and speak with her mother,” Hayes said. “I’m going back in tonight because we’ve got a case pending, but I’m off tomorrow.” He wagged his finger at Boone. “You go home and wash your mouth out with soap.”
Boone put an affectionate arm around his shoulders. “You’re the only man I know who thinks ‘Crackers and Milk’ is a curse.”
“I give talks to little kids about drugs,” he pointed out. “What if I slipped in front of a classroom of kids?”
“They probably know more bad words than you do,” Winnie chipped in, grinning. “You should hear some of their parents talk on the phone when they call for the police to come.”
Hayes winced. “I know. I have to hear them.” He grinned at Winnie. “You know, you’re pretty good on that radio. Kilraven likes having you on duty. He says you brighten up dark nights.”
“He does?” Winnie’s face became radiant.
“Cut that out,” Boone said severely. “She’s going to go back to college and get a degree and marry an educated man.”
“I am not going back to college,” Winnie said pleasantly. “I don’t want a degree, and I’m not marrying any man, educated or otherwise, until it pleases me.”
“So there.” Hayes chuckled.
Boone glowered at her. She glowered back.
“I, uh, wouldn’t get too hopeful about Kilraven,” Hayes said gently, a little embarrassed. “He’s had some tragedy in his life. He may act normal, but he hasn’t gotten over the trauma.”
Winnie moved closer to him. “Talk to me, Carson,” she said quietly, using his last name, as she always did when she was really serious.
“A few years ago,” he said quietly, “there was a violent murder up in San Antonio. Kilraven was working undercover there at the time, with the local police. It was a rainy Saturday night—when we always have dozens of wrecks—and he and his partner were closer than the patrol units, most of whom were tied up, so they volunteered to secure the crime scene. Kilraven recognized the address and ran in, before his partner could stop him.” Hayes closed his eyes. “It was bad. Really bad.” He paused. “What I’m telling you is that the man is an emotional trainwreck looking for a place to happen, regardless of his seeming composure. He’s not going to put down roots in Jacobsville, Texas. He’s put off dealing with his trauma too long. One day, he’ll crash and burn.”
“Did he know the murder victims?” Winnie asked hesitantly.
“He was related to them,” Hayes said. “And that’s all I’m saying about it.”
Winnie wondered which relatives were involved. Poor man! “Did you speak to Dr. Coltrain about how soon we can take Keely home?” she asked her brother.
Boone shook his head. “No. But I will. I can guarantee it won’t be tonight.”
She managed a smile. Hayes had dashed her dreams to bits. She didn’t want it to show. “I’m going home to get some sleep. You coming?” she asked Boone.
He hesitated. “I guess so.” He looked at himself and grimaced. “I should have gone home and changed.”
“Nobody will notice.” She sighed. “A lot of people have been here all day and half the night, waiting for hope to make results.” She indicated two families with white faces and red eyes. She smiled at them. They smiled back. Friends were made easily in emergency rooms. She said she was going home and asked if they needed anything that she could bring them. But they shook their heads. There were things they needed, but they didn’t dare leave until they knew something. She understood.
* * *
WINNIE AND BOONE slept for a while and then drove back to the hospital. They ate breakfast in the cafeteria without tasting what they ate, and drank black coffee.
“What did you say to Keely?” she asked.
His eyes were tortured. “Too much,” he bit off. He looked down into his empty coffee cup. “Those damned photos were so convincing!” He realized, too, that Keely hadn’t been trying to seduce him when she started to unbutton her blouse. She was going to show him the scars. It was an act of bravery that he hadn’t appreciated at the time. Now, it hurt him.
“She’ll be all right,” Winnie assured him. “You can make peace.”
He laughed hollowly. “Think so?”
The cafeteria door opened and Hayes Carson came in. He wasn’t smiling. He made a beeline for the Sinclairs.
“I need to talk to you,” he said tersely, looking around to make sure he wasn’t being overheard. “I just found Ella Welsh, dead in her living room!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“DEAD?” BOONE EXCLAIMED, careful to keep his voice low. “Of what?”
“A gunshot wound,” Hayes replied. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I had the coroner out, along with a forensic team from the state crime lab and my own investigator. We found latent prints and a shell casing, but I don’t need ESP to know who did it.”
“Keely’s father,” Winnie guessed. “Or that partner of his, Jock.”
“They were desperate for money, Keely said,” Hayes replied. “I told Keely to tell Ella to put the house on the market, but not really sell it, to make Brent Welsh think she was complying. But the men must have gone to her and demanded immediate results. She either refused or infuriated them, I don’t know.” He sighed. “We don’t dare let Keely see her body. It will have to be a closed casket.”
“What?” Boone exclaimed.
Hayes’s expression was eloquent. “They tortured her, probably to find out about any assets she hadn’t produced.”
“Good God!” Boone said heavily. “They’ll come after Keely, won’t they?” he asked coldly. “She’ll be next, because she’ll inherit what little Ella had to leave her.”
“We haven’t heard anything about sightings of them since Misty and her father and the detective ran for the border,” Hayes told him. “They may be spooked enough to keep running, if they were in the same network with the remnants of the Fuentes brothers’ drug smuggling operation. Too, the murder may prompt them to keep running, since they know we’ll be after them for it. On the other hand, if Ella left life insurance, Keely will get that. And Ella’s savings accounts would mean ready cash. I talked to her banker already. He told me there is some money there.”
“We’ll need more men to protect the ranch,” Winnie thought aloud.
“Several more, all ex-military, and I know where to find them,” Boone said grimly. “I’ll make the ranch into a fortress. Welsh will never get his hands on Keely!”
“I could make a comment here about vigilante justice,” Hayes said with grim humor, “but I won’t. Just don’t step over the line. I can’t afford any more bail money.”
Boone chuckled. “You’ll be paid back for that.” The smile faded. “Poor Keely,” he said heavily. “First the snake, now her mother.”
“Someone will have to tell her.” Hayes looked around him at the grim faces. “We could draw straws. Or we could ask Coltrain to do the dirty work.”
“I’ll tell her when the time comes,” Boone said softly. “It’s my responsibility now.”
Winnie didn’t say anything, but she looked thoughtful, and happy.
* * *
WHICH WAS A far cry from how Keely looked when she came out from under the effects of the medicines she’d been given.
Boone n
ever left her bedside. She’d glared at him the first time she saw him there, when she was still too sick and weak to speak. By the third day, she was regaining some strength and she was furious.
“I know, I know,” he said before she got started. “I got everything backward. I accused you of things you didn’t do and threw you out of the house.” He looked briefly tortured. “I know I caused this.” He drew in a long breath, staring down at his boots. “God Almighty, I never meant for you to walk home with temperatures at the century mark! I must have been out of my head not to realize that you didn’t even have a way to get home.”
Keely wanted to rage at him, but she was still very sick and her arm hurt. She winced every time she moved. “It wasn’t me...with Clark, in that picture you shoved in my face!”
He lifted his head and nodded. “I know,” he said grimly.
That look, and the words, told her things she wouldn’t have asked about. He knew. He knew about her shoulder. She closed her eyes and tears flowed out of them. She felt even worse now. She’d never wanted Boone, of all people, to know her secret. Her mind went back to the boy who’d thrown up when he saw her shoulder...
He moved close to the bed and bent over her, with one big hand beside her head on the pillow. “They’ll kill me if I sit down here. I know you’re still weak and you hurt like hell. But I want you to feel something.” He drew her right hand up to his chest over the shirt and smoothed it down. He watched her eyes while she did it, saw the realization in her green eyes, and nodded.
She frowned as she met his eyes.
“There are more of them,” he said stiffly, rising away from her. “A lot more—one that even took bone out of my thigh. When Misty saw me, in Germany, just after the bandages were removed, she ran out of the room. It’s a little less messy now, after some plastic surgery, but the scars are too deep to be permanently erased, and it’s noticeable. I don’t go shirtless anymore,” he added bitterly. “I haven’t for years.”
She felt the pain. She understood it. “I haven’t worn anything short-sleeved since I was thirteen years old,” she replied quietly. “When I was sixteen, a boy I liked asked me out on a date. He was just fumbling, you know, like boys will, but when he got my blouse half-off and saw the scars—they were fresh, then—he...” She closed her eyes. “He jerked the car door open and threw up. He was sorry, very sorry, but I was devastated. I knew, then, that I’d never have a normal life. I knew I’d never get married and have...have children...” Her voice broke and tears fell hotly onto her cheeks. She was weak and sick and in pain, or she’d never have let him see her devastation.
It affected him. He bent down again and drew his mouth over her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. “Don’t,” he whispered huskily. “You’ve been so brave, Keely. I can’t bear to see you cry. Don’t, honey. Don’t.”
Now she knew she was dreaming. Boone had never called her a pet name, and he didn’t care if he hurt her. She closed her eyes, though, enjoying the dream. It was so sweet to have his breath on her lips, his mouth caressing her wet face, his deep voice murmuring sweet and impossible things.
The sound of the door opening stopped the dream, of course. Boone moved away and she was sure it had been her imagination. She’d been heavily sedated, after all, to compensate for the terrible pain. Boone’s expression was taciturn, as usual, and he didn’t look anything like a man who’d been whispering sweet endearments to her. Winnie and Clark came into the room, somber and worried, especially when they saw Keely’s face.
“You didn’t tell her?” Winnie asked angrily. “Coltrain said not to—”
“Tell me what?” Keely asked at once, dabbing her eyes with the sheet.
Winnie’s face contorted. Boone glared at her. So did Clark.
“Tell me what?” Keely demanded, belligerent now, as she looked from one guilty face to the other.
“I said I’d tell her when it was time,” Boone said shortly. “It’s not time.”
“Yes, but...” Winnie stopped, horrified, as the television, overhead, began with the lead story of the day’s news. The first bit was a photo of Ella Welsh and news about her murder. That was what she and Clark had rushed back into Keely’s room to tell him, because they knew the television had been on although turned down, so they could catch the evening news. They’d seen the beginning of this broadcast on the wall televisions as they passed through the waiting room. They hadn’t thought about the murder story being broadcast so soon.
Keely burst into fresh tears, almost hysterical.
“Damn that thing! Shut it off!” Boone shot at Clark as he started toward the call button next to Keely’s pillow. While Clark shut off the television, Boone pressed the button and asked the nurse to come in, before he bent to curl Keely’s face into his shoulder. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right. I’m so sorry. I never meant you to hear it like that!”
The nurse came in. Boone explained quietly what had just happened. The nurse grimaced and went to call Coltrain, who was, she explained, still making rounds.
The redheaded doctor was in the room scant minutes later. He ordered a sedative for Keely and waited until it took effect before he called the siblings out into the hall.
“It was the damned television,” Boone said angrily. “Why do you have those things in every room in the first place?”
“It wasn’t my idea, believe me,” Coltrain replied at once. “Keely’s going to have a hard recuperation if she has to go back to that house alone.”
“She won’t,” Boone said at once. “She’s coming home with us. I’ve already discussed it with Hayes Carson.”
“Good thinking,” Coltrain replied. He drew in a heavy breath. “I never expected that story to come out so soon. Hell, we don’t even have a local television broadcasting station in the county.”
“San Antonio is plenty close enough to pick the story up, especially on a slow news day,” Winnie murmured. “There’s nothing but political news, and everybody’s sick of that.”
“You’d better hire some bodyguards to protect you at home,” Coltrain advised. “These guys are desperate enough to go after money any way they can get it.”
“Everybody knows they killed Keely’s mother—at least locally we know it,” Winnie said. “They’d be stupid to stick around.”
“These guys will never get work building spaceships,” Coltrain said, tongue-in-cheek. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t have risked coming here in the first place. Hayes Carson would love to get Brent Welsh in his sights on any pretext.”
“So would I,” Boone replied grimly. “He stood by and watched while Keely got mauled saving a kid from a mountain lion. Those scars are going to be permanent, aren’t they?” he asked Coltrain.
Coltrain grimaced. “We might be able to get a plastic surgeon to clean them up, but they’re very deep. She’d have half a dozen surgeries to anticipate, at least. And there’s something else—the sutures weren’t done well, either. She may face some real problems down the road. I’d recommend plastic surgery for that reason alone. But she has no insurance, you know.”
“What the hell does that matter?” Boone asked blithely. “I’ll take care of it. You talk her into it, and I’ll pay the surgeon.”
Coltrain grinned. “That’s a deal.”
Winnie didn’t say anything, but she felt terrible that she and Keely had been friends for so many years, and Keely had never told her about the encounter with the mountain lion. She wondered if she’d said or done something that would make her best friend uncomfortable telling her about it.
“Is Keely asleep?” Boone asked Coltrain.
He nodded. “She’ll be out for a while. It’s just as well. That snakebite is still giving her hell. If Winnie hadn’t found her when she did... Well, it doesn’t bear thinking about,” he added, cutting short the remark when he saw Boone’s tortured eyes. “I’d better get back to work. If you need me, just tell the nurse on duty. They can always find me.”
“Thanks,” Boone said.
&nbs
p; Coltrain shrugged and smiled. “I like Keely.”
The siblings gathered around to discuss their plans. Boone decided that he’d better go and see Eb Scott in person. He was going to need specialized talent. Clark and Winnie would take turns staying with Keely. Nobody was going to get past them. They weren’t armed, but they could certainly call for help.
* * *
IT WAS MORNING before Keely woke up again. The combination of all the drugs and the emotional upheaval of her mother’s death had knocked her out for the night. She blinked sleepily, her mind clear and untroubled until she remembered quite suddenly what she’d seen on television the night before. It was like a rock on her heart. Tears stung her eyes, all over again.
“I’m so sorry, Keely,” Winnie said gently, from her vigil in the chair beside the bed. “About your mother.”
Keely glanced at her. She sighed. “I knew I’d lose her someday,” she said, “and we were almost enemies for so long. But we were just getting to know each other again, and we were becoming friends...” She bit her lip, hard. “It’s been a rotten week,” she said after a minute.
“Yes, it has.” She hesitated. “I wish you could have told me about your shoulder,” she said. “I feel that I’ve failed you, because you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me.”
Keely grimaced. “I was afraid you’d tell Boone,” she said softly. “Not that it would have mattered. He hated me...”
“No, he didn’t,” came the immediate reply. “You have no idea what’s been going on, while you were out of it.”
“He showed me a photograph of some woman with my head on another body, in a compromising situation with Clark,” Keely said heavily. “I knew it was a fake, but Boone didn’t. He was furious. I was going to sink my pride and show him...and he thought I was trying to seduce him!” Her eyes smoldered. “I should have hit him with something! Then he tells me to get out of the house, and stalks off before I can say I haven’t got a way home. When I get out of this bed,” she added, building up steam as she spoke, “I’m going to turn him every which way but loose! That man has some lumps coming!”