Blackwood's Woman (30 page)

"Joanna!" J.T. bellowed from below. "What the hell's going on?"

"Don't do anything you'll regret," her captor warned. "I really don't want to hurt any innocent people. I came for you, not your protector or that child."

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10/31/2009nnocent people. I came for you, not your prot Blackwood's Womanector or that child."

"Nothing's wrong." Joanna's voice quivered. "I'm just overcome with … with the news about Plott."

"Good girl," the man whispered in her ear. "Now, you and I are going to leave and take a ride. If we hurry, we won't have to involve Blackwood and the little boy."

Joanna nodded agreement, not resisting, not putting up a fight of any kind. When J.T. surfaced with Eddie, he would be unarmed. He and Eddie would be sitting ducks.

Lenny Plott, disguised as an FBI agent! And she hadn't recognized him. Not with black hair, a thick mustache and sunglasses shading his eyes. Not when she hadn't been expecting him. She'd thought she was safe, hidden away on the reservation.

How had Plott found them? Who had given away their location?

The cellular phone Joanna clutched in her hand rang. Plott braced the rifle under his arm, grabbed the phone away from her, then clasped her wrist, jerking her up against him. The two of them stared at the ringing telephone.

Plott flipped open the telephone. "Yeah?" He placed it to Joanna's ear.

"J.T.?" Joseph Ornelas said. "Listen, Plott killed an FBI agent and assumed his identity. Eugene Willis. Plott's wearing a black wig and mustache and he knows Joanna is on the reservation. Don't let her out of your sight. Dane Carmichael is taking a helicopter from Trinidad, and I'm on my way."

Lenny jerked the phone away from Joanna's ear, punched the Off button and then the Power button. "We'd better get going."

He dragged her to the car, opened the door and shoved her inside. "Stay put if you want to live just a little longer, and if you don't want anyone else to get hurt."

She heard J.T. frantically calling her name. He knew something wasn't right. By the time he brought Eddie up out of the ravine, J.T. would be half out of his mind with worry. And when he discovered that she and the "FBI agent" were gone, he would know what had happened.

Plott unlocked the trunk, tossed J.T.'s rifle and phone inside and then removed Eugene Willis's 9-mm from the shoulder holster. Opening the driver's-side door, Plott got in the car and started the engine.

"I didn't think it would be this easy." He backed the car up, turned and headed away from Painted Canyon. "I figured I'd have to kill Blackwood to get to you or maybe kill you both from a distance. But that wouldn't have been any fun for us, would it, baby doll?"

The sound of the endearment on his lips chilled her. The night Plott had raped her, he'd called her "baby doll" over and over again. Her stomach churned. Salty bile rose in her throat. Holding her hands in her lap, she knotted them into tight fists. She had to go with him. She had to protect J.T. and Eddie. But no matter where he took her or what he tried to do to her, she was not going to let him win. Even if he killed her, she was going to put up the fight of her life.

And all the while Plott drove her farther and farther away from Painted Canyon, she kept praying that J.T. would save Eddie and then come after her—and find her before it was too late.

* * *

As J.T. brought Eddie up from the ravine, fear ate away at his gut. Joanna wasn't answering him, and he'd heard a car engine roar to life. Cautiously, J.T. peered upward, scanning the area before showing himself. In the distance a cloud of thick dust swirled in the air. He swallowed hard. Whoever had approached Joanna, wasn't F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

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10/31/2009 swirled in the air. He swallowed hard. Whoev Blackwood's Woman er had approached Joanna, wasn't

an FBI agent.

"Where's Joanna?" Eddie asked. "Did she call my mama?"

"No, Eddie, I don't think she got a chance to call Kate."

"Where'd she go?"

"She went with the … the FBI agent."

What the hell was he going to do? He had a dying child in his arms. If Eddie didn't get an antivenom injection soon, he wouldn't make it. But if J.T. allowed Plott much of a head start, he knew he might not get to Joanna in time to save her.

J.T. carried Eddie to the horses, mounted Washington, and pulled his young cousin around to sit in front of him. When J.T. motioned the big Appaloosa into a full gallop, Playtime followed. The sun burned hot and bright in the western sky.

Dust swirled about the horses' legs.

He could not—would not—let himself think about what was happening to Joanna or how she must be feeling. If he thought about it, he'd go crazy. He knew what he had to do—what Joanna would expect him to do.

While riding as if the demons of hell were on his heels, J.T. bargained with the Almighty.
Keep her safe until I can find her, and I'll do everything I can to be the
man she wants and needs. Don't let anything happen to her. Please. I haven't even
told her that I love her.

* * *

He was lost! Dammit to hell, this godforsaken country had tricked him. Everything looked the same. Every damn little dirt road. Every mesa. Every canyon. Every stupid shrub and bush.

Wide-open space. Never-ending sky. And a car with less than a quarter of a tank of gas. He had to take Joanna somewhere undercover and finish her off before finding his way out of this Indian hellhole. If he wasted too much more time trying to find the road he'd come in on, he'd run out of gas and Blackwood would have gathered his forces and come after him.

Lenny took the road to the left, slowing the car as he turned. Joanna grabbed the door handle and swung open the door. He reached for her, but she jumped out just as he clutched a handful of her shirt. The soft cotton material ripped right off her back.

Joanna fell onto the ground, knocking off her hat and momentarily stunning her as she rolled over and over. Breathless, she rose to her knees.

Plott slammed on the brakes. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. He flung open the car door and stomped around the hood. He lifted the black wig off his head and hurled it to the ground, revealing the thin, matted strands of his silver-blond hair.

Joanna lifted herself up from her knees and ran.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, baby doll? You can't get away from me.

If you keep running, I'm just going to have to hurt you when I catch you." Plott scratched his head.

Joanna kept running and Plott chased her. Sweat seeped through his shirt—

Eugene Willis's shirt. Plott cursed under his breath. When he caught her, he'd make her sorry she'd ever run from him.

She didn't look back. Not once. She stumbled, but didn't fall. Plott ran faster.

When he got closer, he reached out for her, calling her name. His hand just missed grasping her long red hair.

Panting, sweat drenching her body, loose tendrils of hair plastered to her face, F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

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10/31/2009 nting, sweat drenching her body, loose tend Blackwood's Woman rils of hair plastered to her face, Joanna ran and ran. Lenny Plott reached out again. This time he caught a handful of her hair. She screamed. He jerked her backward. She whirled around, prepared to fight. He yanked on her hair, pulling her forward. Ramming into her with the full force of his body, he knocked her to the ground and trapped her beneath him.

"You women are so stupid." Lenny smiled at her. "When will you ever learn?"

* * *

Less than two miles from Painted Canyon, J.T. saw dust clouds in the distance and heard the rumble of vehicles. Within minutes, a truck, a Bronco and a patrol car surrounded him. Joseph Ornelas jumped out of the patrol car and ran toward J.T.

Several men climbed down off the truck bed and stood watching. Kate Whitehorn flung open the door of her neighbor Peter Yazzi's Bronco and followed Joseph.

"Plott's taken Joanna," J.T. said. "He's got a head start. We're going to have to track them." J.T. slid off Washington and lifted Eddie down into his arms. "Eddie's been bitten by a rattler. He needs to be taken to the clinic as fast as possible."

Opening her arms, Kate ran to J.T., who handed over her son. Peter Yazzi walked up behind Kate. "We will take care of Eddie. You go and save your woman."

"Peter," Joseph called out to the older man. "I'll radio ahead to the clinic and have them meet you with the antivenom serum." He turned to J.T. "Get in the patrol car.

I'll send Agent Carmichael word on our general location." Joseph turned to one of the men near the truck. "Donnie, take care of these horses for us. The rest of you can follow, but you're to stay behind us and don't make a move without my orders.

Understand?"

J.T. removed his 9-mm Glock and holster from his saddlebag, strapped the gun on and walked toward the patrol car.

The youth named Donnie ran over, mounted Washington and trotted off, Playtime following. J.T. jerked open the passenger door of the patrol car and slid onto the seat. Joseph got in, started the engine and turned to J.T.

"Painted Canyon," J.T. said. "He was heading west."

* * *

Lenny pressed his body onto Joanna's. She tried to wriggle, but the harder she tried to move, the harder he pressed. She struggled to slip one of her arms free.

Plott grabbed her face in both hands and squeezed, squishing her cheeks inward, compressing her lips into a fish mouth. Lifting her head, he held it for a second, then slammed it down against the ground. Joanna gasped. He repeated the head-slamming three times. She cried out, the pain momentarily blinding her.

Releasing her face, he loosened his tie, unknotted it and slipped it off his neck.

Joanna slid her arm, freeing half of it, but her hand remained trapped under Plott's chest.

The minute Joanna slid one arm completely free, Lenny shoved himself up, straddled her hips and grabbed her wrists. She tried to lift her knee. He sat down on her, knocking the breath out of her.

He bound her hands together with Eugene Willis's silk tie, stood and yanked her to her feet. "Come on, baby doll, it's too hot out here and not nearly private enough for what I have in mind."

Joanna kicked Plott. He slapped her across the face. "You stupid girl. The more you fight, the more I'm going to hurt you." Leering at her, he grabbed both of her breasts. She kicked him again and again. He tightened his hold on her breasts, squeezing until she screamed. Then he kicked her in the stomach with his knee.

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10/31/2009 zing until she screamed. Then he kicked h Blackwood's Woman er in the stomach with his knee.

Doubling over, she fell to the ground. Plott grabbed the ends of the silk tie, jerked her onto her belly and dragged her for several yards. Stopping abruptly, he pulled her to her feet, lifted her and slung her over his shoulder.

He slammed her up against the side of the car, ripped her ragged shirt off her and tore it into a long strip. Giving her a hard shove, he pushed her into the car, leaned down and grabbed her feet. He bound her feet with the tattered material of her shirt, then locked and closed the door.

When he got inside the car he sat there for several minutes, staring at her. She was scared to death. He could see the fear in her eyes. Green eyes. Hot green eyes. He could smell her fear, too, and the smell was delicious. No matter how brave they tried to act, sooner or later, they all succumbed to their fears. The ones who had testified against him and sent him to prison knew what it meant to fear him. Joanna Beaumont knew. He had given her the sweetest kind of pain, the kind she'd never be able to forget. And he would give it to her again before he killed her.

But he had to find a hiding place before Blackwood found them. Surely there was a safe place somewhere out here in this damned desert.

* * *

"We'll find them," Joseph said. "It's obvious Plott doesn't have any idea where he's going."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure that's a comforting thought." J.T. wanted to rent the air with his fury, yell at the top of his lungs from the highest peak on the reservation. He wanted to lash out and smash something—anything. If he had to contain his anger and fear much longer, he'd lose his mind. "If Plott's lost, then he's probably upset and taking his frustration out on Joanna."

"Stop thinking about it, okay?" Joseph gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled ferocity.

"How the hell do I stop thinking about it? I promised to protect her. Vowed to her that I'd never let Plott get anywhere near her, and look what I let happen."

"You didn't let this happen. Quit beating yourself up. What were you supposed to do? Leave Eddie down in that ravine, or let him die from the snakebite once you brought him up? Besides, how do you think you'd have caught up with them on horseback?"

J.T. hadn't cried since he was five years old—not since he'd been ripped from his mother's arms. A real man didn't cry, didn't show emotion. Hell, old John Thomas had taught him that a real man didn't even feel any emotion.

The tears lodged in J.T.'s throat.
Dear God, please. Please.
"Look, over there,"

Joseph said. "Thank God, the fool isn't trying to cover his tracks. See, it looks as if he's turned off on the trail leading up to the old mine."

Joseph stopped the car, got out and walked around, taking note of the tire tracks.

J.T. got out when the truck filled with half-a-dozen relatives and neighbors pulled up behind the patrol car.

"There's been a car turn here recently," Joseph said. "If Plott took this road, then we've got him trapped. There's only one way out and that's the way he came in."

J.T. looked around, wondering how long ago Plott and Joanna had come this way.

Long enough for him to have hurt her? Long enough for him to have raped her?

Killed her?

J.T. spotted a wad of black fur lying on the ground. He walked over, picked it up and examined it. "Damn! Look at this. It's a black wig."