Deadly Competition. Roxanne Rustand

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СКАЧАТЬ feeling exposed and vulnerable at being out in broad daylight, half-afraid he might appear. It was certainly a possibility.

      Dean was a small-town cop, from a family of cops, with a couple of lawyers thrown into the mix. After her first 911 call, his relatives and buddies had closed ranks against her, accepting Dean’s claim that she had major depression over the loss of her father, that she was potentially suicidal and that she couldn’t be believed. That he’d taken her to the E.R. with those claims only supported his position.

      He’d smugly told her that his friends and family had all promised to help keep an eye on her and would let him know if she “went crazy and called 911 again.”

      And then he’d hit her where the bruises wouldn’t show…just to drive that lesson home.

      His connections to information and power had made her afraid to attempt reporting his verbal and physical abuse after the first time. And now, those connections would make it easy for him to track her down if she made even one misstep.

      But if he showed up here, she’d run before she’d let anyone stand against him. He had a dark, cold side to him that was too unpredictable to risk bringing out, and there was no way she’d let anyone else get hurt.

      Sarah tugged on Mandy’s hand and looked up at her with a worried expression, then she quickly twisted around to stare at the other people on the street as if afraid someone dangerous was lurking nearby

      Mandy summoned a bright smile. “It’s fun, coming to town with you. Did you like going out for lunch at the café?”

      “My favoritest place. ’Specially the smile sundaes.”

      Shelby had mentioned that Leah enjoyed taking her daughter to Loomis Hotel’s Café Au Lait, and it had proven to be a great choice. Even Mandy had gotten a chuckle out of the sundaes decorated as clown faces, and the bright atmosphere had made for a pleasant experience…

      Except for the imperious older woman sitting in a wheelchair parked at a corner table.

      Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the designer clothes and hat, or the real pearls of a wealthy matron who surely had more important things to think about than a little girl and her nanny. So why had she glowered at the two of them through most of their meal?

      Some of the other patrons had picked up on it, too, glancing surreptitiously between the irritable old woman and the table Mandy and Sarah shared, then leaning close to each other to whisper.

      “Um…Sarah, do you remember the lady at the café—the one sitting in the wheelchair?”

      The child shrugged as she peered into the drugstore window at the colorful display of toys and magazines.

      “Do you know her name?”

      Sarah shook her head. “Can I see the toys?”

      “I don’t see why not, for a few minutes.” Mandy opened the front door and followed Sarah to the toy area. “Just remember they’re for looking, not playing, unless your daddy buys something. Okay?”

      Enthralled, Sarah knelt in front of a display of dolls and doll clothes while Mandy stood watching over her. A few customers wandered down the aisle and nodded politely. Outside the big glass storefront, pedestrians strolled past as they went about their errands. A few of them cast curious glances at her through the window, looked down at Sarah, then smiled and offered little waves of acknowledgment.

      Mandy blinked when the woman in the electric wheelchair rolled by, then jerked to a stop and backed up to give her a cold, hard stare. Mandy’s heartbeat picked up its pace.

      “That’s Charla Renault,” a deep, familiar voice said behind her. “She owns the Renault Corporation—biggest company in the county.”

      Mandy turned and looked up at Clint, feeling a rush of relief at his arrival. They’d planned to meet at the town square in a half hour, but right now she was more than eager to go home. “She sure doesn’t seem very friendly.”

      “You wouldn’t be the first person to say that. But it’s also been a bad year for her, given the death of her son, Dylan.”

      So she was the mother of the man that Sarah’s mother was being accused of killing? Now it was all starting to make sense. A bitter, grieving old woman, seeing the daughter of a woman who might have killed her son, might struggle with a lot of anger and resentment. “I feel sorry for her, poor thing. I can’t imagine being in her shoes.”

      “She’s never made things easier for herself.” Clint lifted Sarah into his arms and started for the door. “You’d be surprised at the long-term feuds and jealousies going on between some of the richest families in the area. The Renaults aren’t on good terms with any of them—especially the Pershings. They’ve been battling for decades over one thing or another. Money, as they say, sure doesn’t buy happiness.”

      The ticket clerk in Atlanta gave Dean a wary look and swallowed hard. “I—I’m not sure.”

      “Look again. You saw this photo once before and told my partner that you recognized this woman. You said you sold a bus ticket to her.”

      “I—thought I did.” The man pushed up his glasses with a forefinger. “But like I told the other guy, the hair was different. And with the glasses she wore…well, I just don’t know for sure.”

      “She has big, hazel eyes. Sort of a heart-shaped face, with freckles across her nose, and she’s really slender. She was probably nervous and avoiding eye contact…maybe not real sure about where she wanted to go. Sound familiar?”

      At that, the old man’s gaze flew to meet Dean’s. “I wouldn’t remember exactly, seeing as how hundreds of people come through here every week. But that does sorta fit the description of the one I saw. Wouldn’t remember her, ’cept she reminded me of my niece Betsy—and that fax of the woman’s photo came through just a few days later. Betsy is such a sweetheart. Just got married, and—”

      “Forget that. Where did this other woman go?”

      Flustered, the man ran his hand through his thinning hair. “West—she wanted to go west, I think.”

      “You think?”

      “No—maybe south. Down New Orleans way.”

      Dean fought the urge to wrap his hands around the man’s scrawny neck. “Maybe,” he said with lethal calm, “you could be a little more specific.”

      “I—” sweat beaded on the ticket clerk’s forehead “—I think she wanted a ticket for New Orleans but didn’t have enough cash. Close, but not enough. I’d say that would put her somewhere in southeast Louisiana, but I swear I don’t remember.” He pulled out a map, unfolded it and drew a circle with his forefinger over the area just north of New Orleans. “Prob’ly here.”

      Dean slapped a personal business card down on the counter. “If you remember anything else, call me. Day or night. This gal is on the run, and she’s wanted for murder. Got it?” He slid a fifty across the counter. “If I find out that you’re covering for her, you can bet I’ll be back.”

      “I—I don’t even know her,” the man protested, licking his lips. “Why would I do that?”

      Dean СКАЧАТЬ