Nancy Herkness (24 page)

Twenty-Five

Charlie had been very grateful that Sallyanne was out when she got home. She’d gone straight to her bed where she’d tossed, turned and cried all night.

This morning she just felt spent.

After picking up Sallyanne and getting the scoop on the slumber party, she retreated to her room with Major padding along behind her. When she stopped in front of her dresser to stare at her reflection in the mirror, he flopped down on the bedroom rug with a long-suffering sigh.

Puffy eyes. Hair carelessly twisted into a lopsided bun. Still wearing her pajama shirt tucked into a pair of ratty blue jeans. She noticed the gleam of her so-called wedding ring, and her breath caught on a sob. She slid it off her finger and held it up at eye-level, tilting it back and forth to watch the crisscrossing lines flicker in the morning sunlight. Then she tossed it onto the dresser where it settled with a small vibrating clatter.

“Face it, Charlotte Elizabeth Berglund,” she said to the mirror, “you just don’t inspire long-term commitment in the male of the species.”

She thought she’d learned that lesson. Certainly Nick and her husband Greg had done their best to instill it in her. Of course, she’d hoped Jack would be different, that he would have the strength and good taste to appreciate her unique qualities. She snorted at her reflection. “Where’d I get that idea?”

Charlie couldn’t bear the pain in her own eyes so she turned away, her hands pressed to her gut as she tried to physically soothe the agonizing ache of Jack’s rejection. A sob wrenched itself from her throat, and she doubled over. An image of Sallyanne floated through the haze of misery, and she found the strength to stand straight again. She glared at the mirror. “You’ve got a daughter to worry about. Moping is not an option,” she said, heading for the shower with a determined stride.

She would get dressed and take Sallyanne shopping at the local bookstore.

That would cheer both of them up.

As she lathered her hair, she allowed herself to consider the fact that Jack hadn’t called, even to let her know what had happened with his visit to Curt Vandermade. “Coldhearted creep!” she said aloud as she ran her fingers through her hair to rinse it.

“Are you sad about something, Ma’am?” Sallyanne asked when Charlie joined her for a glass of milk in the kitchen.

Charlie’s heart gave a little lilt every time Sallyanne called her “Ma’am.”

“No, sweetheart, I think I’m just coming down with a cold,” she said.

“Take some vitamin C,” the little girl said wisely. “It works real well.”

Major sat up abruptly. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he looked toward the door into the living room.

“What is it, Major?” Charlie asked, heading into the other room. Everything seemed fine. “He must have had a nightmare,” she said to Sallyanne, as she patted the big dog’s head. He sat down, but his eyes were open and his ears were cocked forward.

Sallyanne carried her glass to the sink, then went to retrieve her book bag from beside the front door. Charlie was wiping down the table when she heard the little girl cry out, “Papa!”

Charlie raced into the living room, but she was too late. Sallyanne had already unlatched the French door. Don McGraw was stepping inside as she skidded to a halt. “Don, you’re not supposed to be here,” she warned, wishing the police guard hadn’t left when they assumed Don was on the plane to Tennessee.

“My little girl thought I didn’t want to say good-bye to her,” he said, sweeping Sallyanne up into his arms and hugging her. “I couldn’t let that stand.”

“I sympathize, but we have a legal agreement,” Charlie pointed out. Major punctuated her statement with a growl. She laid her palm on top of his shoulder to calm him.

“Well now, don’t they say possession is nine-tenths of the law?” Don said with a smile as he held his daughter against his chest. “I believe I am now in possession.”

“What does that mean, Papa?”

“It means you and I are going to be together, honey pie.”

“You’re squeezing too hard,” Sallyanne said as she started to squirm. “Please put me down.”

Don let her slide to her feet, but kept his arm firmly wrapped across her chest.

“I’m going to call the police,” Charlie said, starting for the telephone.

“I wouldn’t do that, missy.”

She turned to see him pull a hunting knife from behind his back.

Sallyanne screamed. Major hurled himself forward and Charlie shrieked, “Down, Major!” as she saw the knife flash toward the dog’s head. Don’s hold on Sallyanne loosened, and Charlie yelled, “Run, Sallyanne! Run to Isabelle’s!”

She just had time to see the child stumble off the porch when she felt Don’s arm snake around her waist. He yanked her back against him and held the knife to her throat as he dragged her away from the door.

“You shouldn’t have done that, pretty lady. Now we’re going to have to go see Isabelle, aren’t we?” He spoke right into her ear.

Charlie stood very still. Out of the comer of her eye, she could see Major’s body stretched out on the floor. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing, but she couldn’t see any blood. Don pressed the knife closer against her neck and let his free hand roam up to close around her breast.

“Maybe I’ll take you with us. You’d make a real fine whore until Sallyanne gets old enough to make some money for her papa.”

When Charlie didn’t respond, he slid his hand downward between her legs. She tried to twist away but he laughed and forced his hand between her thighs. “Or maybe you’ll decide to pay me the money I asked you for,” he whispered in her ear as he pushed his fingers hard against the denim of her jeans. “Except the price has gone way up.”

“I’ll pay you,” Charlie whispered. The knife was so tight against her throat she was afraid to speak any more loudly.

“We’ll discuss my terms later. Now let’s go see Isabelle.”

Don let go of her crotch and started to move her toward the back door. A flicker of shadow on the throw rug caught her eye. Please let it not be Sallyanne, she thought. Then the French doors crashed open, the glass shattering.

Jack Lanett stood braced in the doorway.

Charlie almost flinched at the expression of lethal intent etched on his face.

“Let her go,” he said in a deadly flat voice.

Charlie felt Don shift behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then her brain kicked into gear, and she began to run through every extreme survival course she’d ever participated in. Of course, any self-defense course she’d taken advised a woman not to try to defend herself when a man was holding a knife to her throat…

She opened her eyes and smiled weakly at Jack. He might be a coldhearted creep, but she was glad to see him right now.

Jack’s gaze never wavered from Don McGraw’s face. “I called the police before I came in, McGraw. They’ll be here soon, and I’m not moving until you let her go.”

Don pressed the knife even harder against her throat. Charlie gagged.

Jack twitched at the sound.

She felt something warm tickling her throat and realized with a shock she was bleeding. That did it. She wasn’t going to let him slit her throat without a fight. She did a quick mental calculation, blinked at Jack twice, then cut her eyes down and to the left in hopes that he would understand her signal. Please understand, Jack!

Taking a deep breath, she slammed her head back into Don’s face and thrust her hands up between his right arm and her neck. As she pushed outward with all her strength, she jammed the heel of her sandal down on the arch of his foot and threw herself to the left and downward. The handle of the knife struck hard against her head as she fell. She rolled behind her favorite armchair and lay there with pain radiating through her forehead.

“You goddamn bitch!” she heard Don McGraw scream.

The sounds of a scuffle drifted through her consciousness. Then Jack was looming over her with the knife gripped in his right band.

“Charlie? Are you all right?” Jack’s voice seemed to come from a distance. “Charlie! Answer me!”

“I’m fine,” she managed, her palm pressed to her temple.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” He sounded worried.

She did her best to smile up at him, but when she moved her vision went black around the edges. His expression went from concern to fury, and he disappeared from her line of sight.

“Don’t kill me! I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just—” There was a frightening thud and then silence.

“Charlie!” Jack was kneeling beside her, his hands gently probing her head and neck. “Where are you hurt? Christ, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a cut. It’s my head that hurts.”

“Let me get some ice.”

Finally, Charlie heard sirens, their wail slicing through her aching skull.

“You’ve got to get up,” Jack said, as he used his left hand to hold a dish towel filled with ice against her head. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

He wrapped his right arm around her rib cage and hauled her up to a sitting position. “Ow!” she complained.

“Come on. Up!”

Now he supported her against his body and straightened, bringing her with him to a standing position. Her head was pounding, but her vision had cleared. “Major!” she said, seeing the dog still sprawled on the rug.

“He’s breathing,” Jack said as he walked Charlie closer. “Did Don stab him?”

“There’s no blood,” Charlie said. “He must have hit him with the handle of the knife.” She looked curiously at Don McGraw where he slumped unconscious against the wall. “What did you do to him?” she asked with an utter lack of sympathy.

“I had to knock him out so I could take care of you.”

Suddenly, reaction to the violence crashed into her, and she collapsed against Jack, sobbing. “Oh God, Jack. I thought he was going to hurt Sallyanne. I thought he’d killed Major. I was afraid he was going to stab me. I was so glad to see you, but I was so terrified.”

“Shhhh.” He dropped the ice and held her against him with infinite tenderness. “Shhhhh, sugar. It’s all right now. It’s over.”

Charlie let go of her head and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, trying to wrap herself in the warmth and safety of his body. His arms tightened around her, and he kissed her hair and murmured soft words of comfort. Then he said, “The police are here, sugar. There are a lot of guns pointed at us so move slowly. They don’t know who I am.”

Charlie opened her eyes and lifted her head slowly.

Jack stepped back and raised his hands, his gaze never leaving her. She turned to face five men in dark uniforms with guns aimed straight at Jack.

“Don’t shoot. He’s the good guy,” she said. “The one you want is over there.” She moved her arm in slow motion to point toward Don’s slumped body.

“You sure, ma’am?” one officer asked, his rifle still locked on Jack.

“I’m sure,” she stated firmly, and sighed in relief as four muzzles were slowly lowered, and the fifth swung toward Don.

Controlled chaos erupted. Two ambulances arrived in a blaze of light and sound. The police tried to rouse Don without success. “Someone really wanted him out,” one officer muttered as he bent over the inert man. One of the ambulances carried Don’s unconscious body away under armed guard.

Jack beckoned the other medical crew over to Charlie. They shone flashlights in her eyes, asked her who was president, and tried to persuade her to come with them for X rays. She refused to go despite Jack’s threats to strap her to the stretcher. She wasn’t leaving without seeing Sallyanne.

The technicians handed her an ice pack and gave Jack a long list of warnings and instructions before they reluctantly left empty-handed.

Charlie was more concerned about Major than herself. The big dog’s eyes were open, but he showed no desire to stand up. When Mike appeared and volunteered to take Major to the vet, she gratefully agreed. He and one of the policemen carried the big dog carefully out-through the open French doors. She heard him tell a couple of reporters she could see hovering outside the house to get lost.

Through it all, Jack’s arm stayed wrapped firmly around her waist, his body warm and solid against her side.

As the police continued to mill around the house, Jack led her over to the couch and sat her down beside him. He reached up and tilted her head onto his shoulder and said, “Just rest for a minute.”

But the doorbell rang, and the front door banged open.

Sallyanne raced into the living room and threw herself at Charlie while Isabelle, Ernst and two policemen followed at a slower pace.

“Ma’am, Ma’am, are you all right?”

Charlie wrapped her arms around the sobbing little girl and kissed her. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Are you all right?”

“Yes, Ma’am. How’s Major?” Sallyanne pulled away to look around. “Where is he?”

“Mike took him to the vet. He’ll be okay,” Charlie said, mentally crossing her fingers.

“Daddy!” Sallyanne said, shifting to hug Jack.

If he was surprised by his new name, he didn’t show it. “Sweetheart, I’m glad to see you safe! I heard you were very brave and ran as fast as you could to Isabelle’s house.”

“I was so scared. I cried when I got there,” Sallyanne confessed.