Last Chance Hero, page 26
“We didn’t expect you to show up. Are you sober?” Dash asked.
“I am.”
“You don’t have your gear,” Matt said.
“I was at the Smith house when I got the page. The gear is at home because… Well, you know.”
“Give the guy a break. He was supposed to be on his honeymoon tonight,” Bubba said.
Ross ignored the friendly ribbing and grabbed the spare turnout suit. The boys were never going to find out that he’d spent his honeymoon night with Sabina on a twin mattress on the floor of the Smith house.
Or that she’d been a virgin.
He’d never been anyone’s first lover. Ever.
It was humbling.
And too damn complicated to think about right now.
“What have we got?” he asked.
“A brush fire way out of town on old man Nelson’s farm,” Dash said.
Ross jumped into the chief’s seat and started pulling on the turnout suit. Dash drove like a maniac, and they made it to the Nelson farm in seven minutes flat, which had to be some kind of record since the farm was at the far edge of their service area. The fire had started in a brush pile at the corner of the property, well away from the barn where George Nelson kept his milk cows.
By the time they arrived, George had all but put the fire out with a garden hose. But the smell of kerosene hung in the air.
“Someone set this fire on purpose,” George said as Ross jumped down from the pumper.
Ross nodded. “Did you see anything?”
“Uh-huh. One of my cows just dropped a calf so I was up in the barn with Doc Polk most of the night. She’s the one who saw the flare when the fire started. I got to the barn door in time to see someone dressed in black running down the road. It was a man of about middle height. I couldn’t tell you what race or hair color. It was too far away. But he got into a light-colored sedan. I can’t tell you what make it was, either. But I’d say it was white or light gray. He headed back toward Last Chance at a pretty good clip.”
Just then a sheriff’s deputy rolled up to the scene, and George repeated his story. The deputy put out a BOLO and questioned Doc Polk, whose eyewitness account was just about the same. White or gray sedan, make unknown, tags unknown. Yeah, it was all kind of vague.
After another ten minutes, the guys were done stirring ashes and putting out hot spots. It was annoying when someone pulled a prank like this. The guys were all ticked off as they headed back into town at a much more leisurely pace.
And to think this is what pulled him out of bed where he was naked with a really hot woman. Who, if he knew Sabina, would probably get herself up and go home.
On account of the fact that Lucy was still not out of the woods.
Damn.
Sabina decided not to wait for Ross to come back. She might have his mother’s blessing but Last Chance was still a small town. And bless her heart, Lucy was still facing an endless list of problems. It wouldn’t help Lucy if Avery Denholm, the county prosecutor, ever found out that Sabina had seduced Ross Gardiner on what was supposed to be his wedding night.
So she put on her fancy dress, left off the high heels, and negotiated the nearly pitch black staircase without a flashlight. Her eyes were fixed on the stair treads. Her thoughts were a million miles away, wondering if Ross was facing danger or saving a life. Wondering where Lucy had gotten to. Hoping both of them were safe.
She didn’t see the threat until it came at her from out of the dark corner of the foyer. Someone who reeked of kerosene grabbed her from behind and put his smelly hand over her mouth.
She almost gagged as she simultaneously tried to elbow her way free. But the man was much stronger than she was. He dragged her through the front parlor and around to the room that had once been the kitchen. He snapped on a small electric lantern that he’d hung on a nail protruding from one of the open wall studs. A straight-backed chair stood in the middle of the otherwise empty room. A roll of duct tape sat in the chair’s seat.
She was dead if she let him get her to the chair. So she redoubled her efforts to get away. She tried to bite his hand and may have gotten him. He swore at her, but still got a piece of tape over her mouth. The minute that tape landed, she started to panic. The tape obscured one of her nostrils in addition to her mouth. It was hard to breathe.
The panic didn’t help her any. And it didn’t recede when her attacker nearly broke her arms twisting them back so he could bind her at the wrists with more tape. Her feet were all that was left. And she kicked for all she was worth. She even landed one right in his groin area as he tried to push her down into the chair.
For a moment, she thought she might have a chance to get away. But the guy had a high pain threshold, or her kick must have glanced off his thigh. Either way, he redoubled his efforts, and within a matter of moments he had her completely subdued.
When the struggle ended, she finally looked up at him in the eerie blue glow of the LED lantern. Layton Webster. Good Lord.
“It’s really a shame,” he said, his eyes kind of wide and strange behind his glasses, his breath coming in gusts from the exertion of the brief fight. “I thought you had changed, Sabina. You fooled me, didn’t you? I bought all that sweet crap about not being ready for intimacy. But it was just another one of your games, wasn’t it?”
She couldn’t answer him. But did it even matter? Layton was perfectly capable of carrying on a one-sided conversation. Her misgivings about him, stemming all the way back to eighth grade, tumbled through her mind. He’d never been quite right. But she’d never figured him for crazy.
Then again, didn’t they say psychopaths had a way of gaining people’s trust?
Well, she was guilty of trusting him, up to a point. But he’d sure pulled the wool over the eyes of all those matchmaking busybodies in town. And hadn’t she played right into that scenario for her own selfish reasons?
She was in mortal danger. Layton planned to rape her, or maybe worse. And she could do nothing. She struggled against the tape that bound her like the threads in a spider’s web.
She was prey.
“You could have had me, Sabina,” he said. “You could have had me in eighth grade, but you chose to humiliate me instead. You could have had me now. I was willing to overlook your slutty behavior in high school. I thought you’d learned a lesson. I thought my initial punishment had changed you. But it didn’t, did it?”
What on earth was he talking about? He paced back and forth, his voice becoming more and more strident. And then he stopped and glared at her. “I will have to punish you again, I’m afraid.”
He stopped and looked away for a moment. “If only you’d learned your lesson the first time.” He said these words almost as if he were sorry or something. What was all this talk about punishment? When had he punished her?
He turned his gaze back on her, and she must have responded to him in some way because he seemed to realize that she needed further clarification, and Layton had always been willing to clarify things—ad infinitum. “It’s so ironic, isn’t it? All these years Lucy blamed herself for that fire, when she wasn’t to blame at all.
“I was at your house that night. I used to watch you sometimes. But that night I saw Lucy burn something in your trash can. And that gave me an idea. So when she went to sleep, I jimmied open the window and, well, I used some paper and matches by your bedroom curtains. I didn’t think I’d hurt Lucy. I figured she’d be awakened by the smoke detector.
“I admit I got a little scared when she was hurt. And then I realized my mistake. It would have been far more effective if I’d scarred you. If you were scarred, no one would look at you or lust after you. Maybe if you were scarred, you would have learned your lesson.
“Oh, well,” he said on a gusty sigh, “At least I saved you from that life you wanted. You never got to be a cheerleader at Clemson. You never had the chance to sleep your way through another football team. You should thank me for saving you from all that sin.
“To be honest I thought of you often over the years. I kept tabs on you, but I didn’t want to come here until I was ready. And then Uncle Elias invited me back with his pathetic little project. I really thought I had changed you. I dared to think that you and I could be happy, even if you were a slut, once.
“And then someone did me a huge favor by burning down those houses at Jessamine Manor. I have no idea who that person was, but I could see how I could use that disaster to my advantage. I helped your sister any way I could. I knew she was the key.
“But I was so wrong. I’m ashamed to say it. All that time you piously supported your sister, and dated me like you cared, and what were you doing? Banging the fireman on the side.
“I couldn’t let that go on, could I? I had to put a stop to it. I decided to set another fire. It’s pretty thrilling, actually, especially when you use technology to get it done. So much more fun than the first fire I set with the paper and matches.
“It’s just unfortunate that Ross brought that stupid dog to Heritage Oaks that night. I still can’t believe Uncle Elias allowed it. If it weren’t for that dog, Ross would have been eliminated. And Lucy would be facing murder charges. Just imagine how you would have turned to me if that were the case?”
He paused a moment, clearly lost in some grotesque fantasy.
“But the dog ruined it all. And then you had to go screw that man.”
Good Lord, had he been watching her every move over the last few weeks? Had he been down here plotting his revenge while she and Ross were…
And then she remembered that Ross had been called away for an emergency. And Layton smelled of kerosene or something like that. What had he done? Oh, God, was Ross okay?
“So I’m afraid this time the punishment is death. I’m sorry,” Layton said into her frantic thoughts. “I thought I could teach you a lesson, but you’re hopeless. And I won’t sully myself with a slut. There’s no honorable way out of our engagement for me unless you die. And of course, the authorities will have plenty of evidence to convict Lucy of the crime.”
He smiled. It was like looking right into the face of the devil.
“I’m afraid it’s going to hurt. But the fire will purge your sins.”
Good Lord, he planned to burn her to death.
Her heart pummeled her rib cage, her struggle against the tape becoming frantic. There was no escape. She was going to die.
She stopped struggling and started praying. Of course she asked God to save her, but that seemed unlikely. So she asked for forgiveness. If she’d been a kinder person in her youth, maybe she wouldn’t have ended up here.
And then she asked God to protect Lucy and Ross. She tried not to cry, but the tears filled her eyes when she thought about what she and Ross had shared last night. He’d left so quickly, running off to an emergency like a hero. There hadn’t been any time to talk about what happened between them. He had said no words of love.
Nor had she.
But maybe their bodies had spoken. Maybe he would know that she loved him. She just wished she’d gotten the chance to say it out loud.
“You can cry, sweetheart, but it won’t affect me. I have to move quickly now. Before Ross comes back. The timing is important. I want him to know that you’re burning in here. It will be exquisitely painful for him, don’t you think? And imagine when he discovers that Lucy did the deed.”
Ross would be back. Her heart took flight at that. It was something to cling to. Something to hope for.
“I thought about knocking you out before I start the fire, but it turns out that’s hard to do unless you set up an intravenous line, and I doubt I could do that properly. And chloroform doesn’t work unless it’s administered continuously. They never tell you that on TV. And besides, chloroform might kill you.”
Did he even know what he was saying? Did it matter if she died from some drug or if she burned? Apparently, in his fevered mind, it did.
“It’s clear that God needs you to experience the pain.” He gave her another one of his monstrous smiles. “I’m so sorry, but you do understand that you must be punished.”
He really seemed to be sorry. It was horrible.
He came toward her, and she tried to lean away from him. But there was no escape. He caressed her hair. His touch made her skin crawl.
“I thought about having you, but you understand why I can’t, not with his semen inside you.” He let go of a long sigh. “Such a shame. I would have liked to have you.”
He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. And then he viciously knocked over the chair so that she ended up on her side, bound, gagged, and just like a frigging turtle on her back.
“Hey y’all,” Ross said, “I know it’s the wee hours of the morning and y’all are tired, but would you mind if we make a quick stop at Dash’s place to pick up Sparky?”
The LCFD pumper was approaching the long gravel drive that led to Painted Corner Stables where Sparky was vacationing. Since the honeymoon was off, Ross kind of wanted to get his buddy back. It had been really lonely last night without him. Until Sabina had shown up wearing that incredible dress.
His whole body flushed hot. If he were certain she was still waiting for him at the Smith house, he’d probably bypass the dog. But Sabina was a careful woman. She probably would have gone home.
He’d call her after the sun was up.
“Sure,” Dash said. “To be honest, I’ll bet ol’ Sparky will be happy to see you. He wasn’t all that thrilled when you left him. Walter said he had to put him out in the dog run.”
“Really?” Guilt percolated through Ross. “I’m sorry. He’s not all that well trained.”
“Don’t sweat it, man,” Bubba said. “You’ve been busy these last days.”
“Bubba! Shut up.” This from Matt.
“Okay, guys, let me make something clear. I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. That would drive me crazy.”
It was getting on to four in the morning when they arrived at Painted Corner Stables. Dash told everyone to wait and slipped from the truck and headed into the barn.
Four or five minutes passed, and he didn’t return. And then a light came on in the cottage beside the barn where Walter Taylor, Dash’s horse trainer, lived.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Bubba said.
Bubba had a strong grasp of the obvious. A moment later Dash came back shaking his head. The dog wasn’t with him.
“Where’s Sparky?” All the emotion Ross should have felt yesterday when Lucy failed to show kind of descended on him all at once. His first, totally crazy thought was that Lucy had taken the dog. But then he remembered that Betsy was the one who had chosen to strike at him in that way. Lucy wouldn’t have taken Sparky.
“He’s gone,” Dash said. “Walter said he’d never seen anything like it. About midnight the dog just went kind of nuts or something. Walter figures it was a raccoon or a possum or something. Anyway he started barking and carrying on. Walter went out to the dog run out back to see what was up. He told me that he’d never seen a dog that size jump the way Sparky did. He cleared a fence that no dog should have been able to.”
“He jumped the dog fence?” Matt, who knew dogs, was really impressed.
“He didn’t hurt himself, did he?” Ross asked.
“I don’t think so, because Walter said he took off like a bat out of hell. He ran right across the pasture that way.” Dash pointed toward town.
“I’m sure he was just chasing a coon. I’ll go looking for him on horseback just as soon as it’s light.” Dash’s hand came down on Ross’s shoulder. “Looks like that dog wants to hunt, boy. Maybe we should organize us a coon hunt one of these days.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” Matt said quietly. Matt, of all the guys, understood. In a few short weeks, Sparky had become Ross’s buddy. He couldn’t bear to lose another dog.
And besides, in the last hour or two, he’d been entertaining a wonderful fantasy about him and Sabina and Sparky together.
So he didn’t want to lose Sparky now. Sabina loved Sparky. And Ross loved both of them. He wanted them to be in his life. He wanted to live in the Smith house and have Momma come sit on the porch and drink sweet tea. One day, he wanted to have a little girl with long, curly black hair and blue eyes.
Yeah. Sparky was part of the plan. And that was kind of amazing because, until right this moment, Ross didn’t even realize that he had a plan.
The dog running away was a bad omen or something. Or maybe it was a metaphor for Ross and his fear of commitment. But either way, Sparky needed to settle down, and so did Ross. And somehow that didn’t seem nearly as frightening as it had a few days ago.
Layton had taken the light with him. Sabina was in the dark now. And she might have only minutes to live. All her plans for vacationing in Europe were done. All her dreams of finding love and a home with Ross and Sparky were finished. The house she’d dreamed of bringing back to life was about to be erased from the face of the earth.
And all she could do was pray for forgiveness?
Damn it, she might have been cruel to Layton when she was fourteen. But what fourteen-year-old girl hasn’t been cruel to someone? This wasn’t her fault. Lucy’s scars were not her fault. If she wanted forgiveness, she had better start forgiving herself because everyone else, probably even God Himself, had already forgiven her for the stuff she’d done as a stupid teenager.
And after she forgave herself, she needed to fight for her life.
Had she ever fought for her life?
The answer was pretty clear. Not until last night, when she’d come here intent on getting what she wanted.
And now Layton wanted to take it all away from her as a punishment?
Damn.
She rocked the chair from side to side. It was amazing how desperation could make a person’s body do impossible things. She managed to roll the chair over and get onto her knees. The position wrenched her back and put pressure across her chest where the duct tape bound her. But that pressure meant she was still alive and breathing.
