Page 17

C HAPTER S EVENTEEN

G roggy and disoriented, Crystal drifted into awareness. The first thing she felt was a throbbing on the left side of her head. Little by little, other sensations crept in—clean cotton sheets cradling her body. The faint beep and buzz of electronic monitors. The sting of an IV needle attached to the back of her left hand. Muffled voices. The click of cart wheels over a tile floor . . .

The memory stirred—Judd’s fist slamming into her, the staggering fall, and the burst of empty blackness as her head struck something hard and sharp. Now, even before she opened her eyes, she could tell that she was in some kind of hospital. More surprising than that, she was alive.

She willed her eyes to open. The overhead light was blinding. She turned her head to one side. Even that slight movement brought a stab of pain. Her exploring right hand moved to feel the thick gauze wrapping. The flesh around her eye felt swollen, as well. She must look like hell.

The ring! Her heart slammed as she realized her finger was bare. Where was it? Could Judd have taken it?

“Hello, Crystal. Welcome back.”

Startled by the masculine voice, she jerked her head to the right. The stab of pain made her gasp. She forced her gaze to focus.

Agent Sam Rafferty was seated in a visitor chair next to her bed. Crystal swore silently. Whatever the man was here for, it couldn’t be good.

She found her voice. “Where am I? What happened?”

“You’re in the emergency room at the Willow Bend Clinic. Blood loss and probable concussion. You were lucky. Your neighbors heard loud voices. They saw Judd leaving and got worried. If they hadn’t found you and called for an ambulance, you might not be here now.”

“Those nosy old farts. They’re always watching me. I guess I owe them.” She frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Since you and Judd are both persons of interest in Frank’s murder, the police called me. They found hair and blood on the sharp corner of that coffee table. Someone from the police might be here to question you later, but I need you to tell me what happened now.”

“It was about the way you think. Judd wouldn’t leave. When I tried to get away, he got rough and started hitting me. I must’ve fallen against the table. I don’t remember anything else.” Crystal tried to raise her head, but a wave of dizziness swept over her. She sank back onto the pillow. “Where’s Judd? Did he get away?”

“The police have an APB out for his Harley. They promised to keep me informed.” Rafferty’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something else you’ll be questioned about. Because you were assaulted, the doctor checked you for possible rape. She found semen.”

“Of course he did. That bastard Judd threw me on the bed and raped me. Didn’t even bother with protection. In case you’re wondering, it happened before he slammed me against the table. I was conscious. I remember it all, and I’m willing to testify.”

“The police also found a knife on the floor and a bag with some things of yours in it.”

“After the rape, I was trying to leave. I grabbed the knife when Judd tried to stop me, but he took it away. That was when he started punching me.” Her pulse lurched as she realized that under the flannel sheet she was wearing nothing but a hospital gown. “My things—where are they?”

“Safe, in a locker here at the clinic. The police kept the knife for prints, but your clothes, your purse, your keys, and the things in the bag came with you in the ambulance. You’ll get them back when you’re checked out. The doctor talked about transporting you to the hospital in Abilene. But since you’re awake and lucid, I’m guessing that won’t be necessary.”

“My ring—the engagement ring Frank gave me. It was on my finger. Now it’s gone.”

“I’m sorry, no one’s mentioned it,” Rafferty said. “Someone might have put it with your other belongings. I can ask about it.”

“Oh please. It might not be worth much, but it’s all I have left from Frank—except for the baby, of course.”

“Oh course. But that brings me to another matter. When I asked the doctor whether your baby was all right, she gave me a surprised look. She told me she’d found no indication that you were pregnant. How would you explain that?”

Crystal felt something crumble inside her. Real or not, that baby had been her last hope for a future of comfort, abundance, and respect. Now there could be no more pretense. Tears of self-pity welled in her eyes. “I really was pregnant,” she said. “The baby was Frank’s. But I had a miscarriage. I couldn’t help it. It just happened.”

“So you decided to keep it a secret. You were going to take what you could get from Lila and disappear before she learned the truth. Is that what you were thinking?”

Crystal let her silence answer the question. How could anyone blame her? That baby had been her ticket to a better life. Now she had nothing—not even a plausible lie.

“Does Lila know?” she asked.

“Not yet. But she will. I plan to tell her myself.”

“I don’t want to face her. Please don’t make me.”

“That isn’t up to me.” He moved the chair back and stood. “But I have a feeling that after what you’ve done to her, Lila will never want to set eyes on you again. You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t have you arrested.”

“But I didn’t mean any harm. I just—”

“We’re finished here, Crystal.” Rafferty turned to go.

As he reached the door, Crystal was seized by a sudden afterthought. “Wait!” she said. “I just remembered something important—something Judd said when we were fighting.”

He turned back toward her. “I’m listening.”

“Judd told me that he killed Frank—told me how he arranged to meet him in the stable and how he got the syringe and filled it with fentanyl. He said he did it for love. But if he loved me, why would he do this to me?” She gestured toward her swollen eye and bandaged head.

“Did he say what he did with the syringe?” Rafferty asked.

“No. But he was jealous of Frank. He hated him because of me. And he wanted me to know what he’d done. Find Judd, and you’ll have your murderer.”

“Would you be willing to sign a statement swearing to what you just told me?”

“Anything. Judd killed the man I loved, the father of my baby. I just want him punished.” She strained to sit up, then fell back onto the pillow. “But right now, I’m not sure I can even hold a pen.”

“That’s fine. I have preparations to make. I’ll be back tomorrow with the document and a recorder. Meanwhile, think about the details—anything you remember.”

After the FBI agent had left, Crystal lay with her eyes closed, struggling to collect her scattered thoughts. Had Sam Rafferty believed what she’d told him about Judd being the murderer? She’d made up the story on the spot, but it could well be true. Judd really had hated Frank. He had access to fentanyl, and he was capable of killing. He belonged in prison, maybe even on death row.

Judd would already have the FBI on his trail. But that wasn’t going to help her now. After the lie about the baby, she could be in big trouble. If she wanted to remain free, she needed to get out of this clinic and out of Willow Bend. She could sell the ring if it wasn’t gone. But the money wouldn’t last. She needed as much cash as she could get her hands on.

Think, Crystal . . .

Then she remembered something. Darrin and Simone hadn’t known about the baby or about her pending deal with Lila—not until she’d told them. And they wouldn’t know about the miscarriage. If they thought she was pregnant, they might still be good for some traveling money.

It might be a long shot, but it was the best chance she had. She would check out of the clinic as soon she was able to stand, call someone from work for a ride home, find her phone, and make the call.

* * *

Rowdy and Judd had picked up Interstate 20 out of Abilene. By now, a few hours later, they were coming into Odessa and the truck was running low on gas.

Judd had swilled several beers and was in no condition to be trusted at the wheel, so Rowdy had done the driving. He was getting tired and hungry. It was time for a break.

At the next exit, Rowdy took the off-ramp and pulled up to the gas pumps at a 7-Eleven. As he stopped at the pump, Judd, who’d been dozing on and off, sat up with a yawn.

“What d’you say I fill the tank while you go inside and get some snacks?” Judd suggested. “I’ve got my Visa. I can pay at the pump.”

“Thanks.” Rowdy opened the door of the high cab and swung to the ground. “What would you like for snacks?”

Judd climbed out the passenger side. “Chips and a hot dog with relish. And a Bud Light. That should do it for me. After we’re gassed up, I’ll need to use the crapper. Give me your keys. I’ll lock the truck and bring them inside to you.”

Rowdy tossed him the truck keys. Judd caught them deftly with one hand, then turned his attention to opening the tank and working the gas pump. Leaving him, Rowdy went into the convenience store. After a visit to the restroom, he took a plastic basket from the stack near the door and began filling it with snack items—for Judd, a packet of barbecue-flavored chips and a hot dog from the cooker in the corner, set up with buns, garnishes, and paper bags. The beer probably wasn’t a good idea. Judd had already downed several. But he wouldn’t be driving. Maybe this one would put Judd to sleep.

For himself, Rowdy chose a granola bar, a pack of beef jerky, and a chilled Red Bull to keep him awake.

In line at the cash register, Rowdy took his credit card out of his wallet to have it ready. He had yet to see Judd come in. Pumping the gas shouldn’t have taken this long. He’d probably gone straight to the restroom and would be showing up any minute.

By the time Rowdy had paid, there was still no sign of Judd. Maybe there’d been a problem with the pump or with his card. Or maybe he’d gotten into an argument with somebody. That would be like him.

Impatient but not really worried, Rowdy checked the restroom. When he failed to see Judd, he went back through the store, opened the front door, and stepped outside.

Judd was gone.

So was the truck, with Rowdy’s phone, his keys, and everything else he owned.

* * *

Lila got the call from Sam after supper. “I saw your light,” he said. “There’s been a development. We need to talk. Is this a good time?”

A development? A chill passed through Lila’s body. What was he talking about? Had Roper been arrested? Heart pounding, she forced herself to reply. “Now’s as good as any.”

“I can come over, or we can sit here on the bungalow porch.”

Lila thought of Mariah, whom she no longer trusted. Even now the cook could be eavesdropping. She didn’t trust Sam, either. But she needed to hear what he had to say.

“Stay where you are,” she told him. “I’ll come out.”

She left by the patio and cut around the house to the bungalow. The porch light was off, probably to discourage mosquitos, but she could see Sam sitting in the moonlight, an empty chair pulled up next to his.

She mounted the porch and took a seat. “No small talk,” she said. “Just tell me. Is this about Roper?”

“No. It’s about Crystal.” His gaze followed the darting flight of a nighthawk chasing insects in the dark.

Crystal . Lila released a long breath. “What about her?”

“I saw her at the clinic. Her ex-boyfriend, Judd, got out of jail and beat her up pretty good. She’ll be all right, but she fell and hit her head. Probably a concussion.”

“What about the baby? Is the baby all right?”

He turned toward her, his gaze holding hers. “There is no baby, Lila. Crystal miscarried. She chose not to tell you about it.”

Stunned, Lila stared at him. “Why, that little . . .” She shook her head. Torrents of emotion washed over her—rage, pity, relief, disappointment, and finally, grief.

“I was actually going to do it, Sam,” she said. “My lawyers were drawing up the contract. I was going to pay Crystal’s price and adopt the little mite. I was ready to be a mother again. Now . . .” She sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what to feel.”

“You could have her charged with fraud. She chose to go ahead with the scheme, even after she’d lost the baby. I’m sure you must’ve given her money.”

“That’s the least of it.” Lila ran a hand through her hair, raking a stray lock back from her face. “But no, I can’t change what’s already happened. So why prolong this farce? Let her go. I’ve got other battles to fight. I’ll call my lawyers in the morning.”

Lila stood, still reeling with the impact of what Sam had told her. She’d pretended to dismiss the news, as if it didn’t matter. But she’d already begun to imagine the baby—the tiny hands and feet, the hungry little mouth, the need for love. Frank’s child, and Crystal’s, would be innocent of everything its parents had done. She’d been prepared to love it. Now it was as if that small person had just died in her heart.

“Are we finished?” she asked Sam.

“Just one thing more.” Sam stopped speaking and stood as a tall figure appeared in the moonlight, striding from the direction of the stables. It was Roper.

His surprised gaze met Lila’s for an instant. Then he turned to Sam. “Any news?” he asked.

“Not about your brother,” Sam said. “But pull up a chair. What I have to say concerns both of you.”

Roper moved a chair to join the other two. In the fewest possible words, Sam recapped Crystal’s miscarriage, Judd’s attack, and the possibility that Roper’s missing brother could have gone on the road with him.

“The troopers are looking for the truck and for Judd’s Harley. So far there’s been no word. We don’t even know if they’re together—all we have to go on is what young Rowdy told his family. With luck, he’s just off somewhere having a good time. But I agree that Judd is bad news. I said I’d keep you informed, Roper, and I will.”

“You mentioned there was something else,” Roper said.

“Yes, I’m coming to that. When I spoke with Crystal, she told me something that—if it’s true—changes the investigation into Frank’s murder.”

Lila could sense Roper’s tension as he sat beside her. She checked the impulse to reach for his hand.

“Understand, Crystal had taken a beating. When I saw her, she had a black eye, and her head was wrapped in a bandage. She’d been brought into the clinic unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. I was there when she woke up. She was lucid, and she remembered the assault.”

He glanced from Lila to Roper. “The last thing she told me, as I was leaving, was that Judd had confessed to murdering Frank. Her story is believable. Judd had a motive, and he gave her the details of the crime. Crystal has agreed to sign a sworn statement. I’ll bring it by tomorrow, after she’s had a chance to rest.”

Lila and Roper exchanged startled looks. The news seemed almost too good to be true. “Are you saying that I’m no longer a suspect?” Roper asked Sam.

“I didn’t say that. But if Crystal will give us a sworn statement, admissible in court, we’ll have a presentable case—especially if we can find other evidence to support Judd’s guilt. Of course if he comes up with an alibi, or something else goes against us, we’ll be back to square one.”

“Back to me, in other words.” Roper spoke with a bitterness that Lila could feel. “I just want this over with.”

“Believe me, so do I,” Sam said. “My boss needs me back in Abilene. But it has to be done right, or the whole investigation will amount to nothing but wasted time.”

“You know I didn’t kill Frank,” Roper said. “And I’ll be damned if I take the blame just so you can earn your blasted gold star.”

“I very much want to believe you, Roper,” Sam said. “If I didn’t, you’d be under arrest by now. Let’s see how this plays out. If we can find enough evidence to support Judd’s so-called confession . . .”

“Stop playing games with me, Sam,” Roper snapped. “I’ve got a missing brother who may be on the road with a murderer. Right now that’s the only thing on my mind.” He stood. “I’m going home to my family now. You’ve got my phone number. Call me the minute you hear anything.”

As he turned away, his gaze met Lila’s. She glimpsed the frustration and worry in his face. But this was no time to reach out to him. There was nothing she could do.

As Roper strode away, headed back to the lot where he’d left his truck, Sam’s phone rang. Sam took the call. As he listened to the voice on the other end, his expression went rigid.

“Wait—” He shielded the phone with his hand. “Lila, get Roper! Bring him back here!”

Lila sprang to her feet and raced down the path toward the parking lot. By now, Roper, walking fast, had almost reached the truck. “Wait!” she shouted at him. “Roper, wait!”

She reached him, out of breath. “Sam just got a call! He needs you to come! Go on, I’ll catch up!”

Roper charged back up the path. Lila followed, nursing a painful stitch in her side. She had seen Sam’s reaction to the phone call. Whatever news he’d been given, she knew it hadn’t been good.

By the time she reached the bungalow, Sam had put down the phone and was talking to Roper. The look of utter shock on Roper’s face warned her to expect the worst.

“The phone call was from the state troopers, Lila,” Sam told her. “A red Ford pickup, with a license number that matches the missing vehicle, was involved in a collision with a tanker truck on I-20, twelve miles past Odessa. The truck driver made it out all right, but the pickup caught fire and exploded. Just one body was recovered, burned beyond identification.”

Lila gazed at Roper, her heart breaking for him as he struggled to hold his emotions in check.

“Call them back, Sam,” he said. “Give them my cell number and tell them I’m on my way.”

“I’m coming with you, Roper,” Lila said.

“No need for you to see this,” he said. “Stay here. I’ll call you.”

“Don’t be stubborn. You could use an extra pair of eyes and ears. And you might need somebody else who can drive. Don’t do this alone. I’m going to get my purse. Wait for me.”

She raced into the house. Minutes later, she returned with her purse and a light jacket to find him waiting at his truck. His stoic face masked the emotions that had to be raging inside him. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said.

“Don’t worry about me. Just drive.” She climbed into the truck, settled into the passenger seat, and buckled her seat belt. Roper started the engine. The truck roared out of the gate and headed up the road toward the freeway entrance. The three-hour drive would get them to the accident scene by midnight. By then, the highway crew would be clearing up the debris. The burned body would have been taken to the police morgue. Roper would likely be asked to confirm that the accident victim was his brother.

Lila studied his grim profile, the mouth set in a rigid line, the narrowed eyes watching the road in front of him. She had never met Roper’s family, but she’d sensed how much he cared for them. Now he’d be facing an unthinkable ordeal. And there was nothing she could say to make it easier. Looking at him, she ached with love. But at times like this, even love wouldn’t be enough.

* * *

In Big Spring, they stopped for gas. While Roper filled the tank, Lila bought coffee, which they drank on the road from Styrofoam cups. They hadn’t spoken much, but Roper was grateful that she’d insisted on coming with him. This was a hell of a time to be alone.

They were more than halfway to Odessa and the site of the accident. Roper had yet to notify his family. He was struggling with what to say to them, when his phone rang. Once, twice, and then again as he fumbled it out of his pocket.

“Mr. McKenna?” The voice was a man’s, crisp and official sounding. Roper muttered a response. “This is Sergeant Rasband of the Odessa City Police Department. I’ve got a young man here who asked me to call you. I’ll put him on.”

“Roper?” The familiar voice was a stab to his heart. For a split second he lost control of the wheel. The vehicle veered over the painted line before he wrenched it back.

“Rowdy? Where in hell’s name are you?” Swept away by anger and relief, Roper was too shaken to drive safely. He pulled into the emergency lane and hit the flasher.

“I’m at the police station in Odessa. That sonofabitch, Judd, stole my truck with my phone and everything. He drove off and left me at a gas station. I got a clerk to call the police. Then I had to wait for them, file a report, and finally got them to call you. Where are you?”

“On my way to where you are.” Roper checked the traffic before pulling back onto the roadway. “Stay put, damn it. We’ll talk when I get there.”

Lila was staring at him, her expression incredulous and joyful. “Your brother’s all right?”

“He’s fine.” Roper willed himself to keep a steady course in the outside lane. “Judd stole the truck. That burned body . . .” He swallowed hard. “It would be his.”

“And Rowdy doesn’t know about the accident?”

“Evidently not.”

“Take the next exit,” Lila said. “This calls for a break.”

The exit was coming up. Roper swung the truck onto the off-ramp and pulled into the parking lot of a Kelly’s Barbecue restaurant. Taking a long breath, he switched off the engine, unfastened his seat belt, turned, and pulled Lila close.

Lila wrapped him in her arms. His shoulders shook with dry sobs. As she felt his need, the love that flowed through her was bittersweet and so deep that it brought a surge of tears. But even then she understood that part of him belonged to his family. That part was what mattered now, more than her, more than their love.

After a few minutes, he released her and sank back into the seat. “Thanks. I’m all right now,” he said. “Damn it, what a scare. When I see that rascal, I won’t know whether to hug him or slap him silly.”

“Do you want me to drive?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could call Sam. He’ll need to hear the news.”

“Go ahead.”

While Lila made the call to Sam, he drove back onto the freeway, in control again but still silent. In an hour they reached Odessa and followed the GPS to the police station. A lanky young man with a brotherly resemblance to Roper sat on a bench outside. He looked as forlorn as a lost puppy.

“Stay here.” Roper pulled into a nearby parking place and climbed out of the truck. Lila watched as he strode toward his brother. Rowdy stood, looking uncertain.

If she’d expected a heartfelt embrace, Lila would have been disappointed. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but Roper was clearly taking a strip out of the young man’s hide. Rowdy cringed under the impact of his brother’s fury. When his expression changed to one of shocked horror, Lila knew that Roper must be telling him about Judd’s accident.

Abruptly, the lecture ended. Trailed by Rowdy, Roper walked back to the truck and opened the back seat of the club cab. As Rowdy climbed inside, his startled gaze met Lila’s.

“I believe you’ve met Mrs. Culhane, Rowdy,” Roper said.

“Ma’am.” Rowdy nodded. His face was pale and streaked with tears, but at least he remembered his manners. Roper started the engine and drove away from the police station, headed back to the freeway.

“Are we going home now?” Rowdy asked.

“Nope. We’re going out to the accident scene so you can have a look at what happened. Then we’ll pay a visit to the county morgue so you can help with a positive ID of your so-called friend. After that, you’ll be going home to face your mother. If you’ll apologize for what you said to her, she just might let you back into the house.

“Judd was drinking,” Rowdy said. “Just beers, but a lot of them. I didn’t let him drive, but then he stole the truck. All my gear, my good saddle and everything I own, was in that truck.”

“Whose responsibility was that?” Roper asked.

“It was Judd who took the truck and drove it drunk, not me.”

“But who decided to leave his family and take off with a known drug dealer, jailbird, and murder suspect? Judd’s ex-girlfriend told the FBI that Judd was the one who murdered Frank Culhane. He could’ve killed you, too. You’re damned lucky he didn’t. So stop whining and think about that for a while.”

Rowdy settled into silence. Roper’s dressing down had been harsh, but it had been delivered with love. Lila had seen Roper’s despair when he’d believed his brother had died in the accident and his emotional response when he learned that Rowdy was alive. She understood.

Unbidden, her hand crept across the space between them and came to rest on his knee. He gave her a sidelong smile. Then his right hand left the wheel and came to rest on hers, large and warm and strong. His fingers tightened in a brief caress before his hand returned to the wheel, a subtle promise of what might come later, when the storm had passed.

At times like this, it was easy to dream of a future with this man—growing old together, maybe raising children if it wasn’t too late for her. Roper would make a strict but loving father, that much she’d already witnessed. They could run the ranch, build the horse program toward a national reputation, make all their dreams come true.

But then, as always, reality came crashing in. Roper already had a family—one that depended on him for leadership, protection, and support. They wouldn’t take kindly to his leaving their ranch to live with a rich widow who’d lost her husband that very summer. Lila had never met Roper’s mother, but it was a given that Rachel would dislike her, even hate her. The Culhanes were everything the McKennas resented—wealthy, privileged, condescending, and scandalous.

Roper’s family would never accept her. And if she pressured him to leave them, he would never forgive her.

Maybe this was all they would ever have—a furtive handclasp in the dark, a rare tumble on a bed of straw, polite conversations in the arena with eyes and ears everywhere.

Would it be enough for her?

Would it be enough for him?