Deadly Identity (18 page)

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Authors: Lindsay McKenna

BOOK: Deadly Identity
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

D
IRK SMILED MIRTHLESSLY
from his hiding spot on a hill overlooking the ranch. It was May third and, through his binoculars, he could see there was a party of some sort going on down below. The temperature was chilly but he braved the cold from his hiding place. For a week since arriving incognito in Jackson Hole, Dirk had been quietly skulking around like a shadow, pretending to be a tourist. He had come to track down Susan. And then he chuckled: he'd seen her slip into a quilting store one morning as he was having coffee at a café. The FBI had done a great job of placing her. She knew how much he hated cold weather and Wyoming was a freezer.
Good choice.
It had been easy to tail her home without her knowledge. When she pulled into the ranch road, he'd passed her and then found the next road and pulled off. A quick trip to a store with topographical maps and he'd located not only the ranch, but the owners, as well. And it had been easy to hike in, find a place to hide and watch.

Even now, as he sat on a small plastic tarp to keep
dry, there were huge patches of unmelted snow on the bramble-filled hillside that overlooked the ranch. It was half a mile from the main compound that consisted of a barn, a number of huge corrals, many cabins and a couple of ranch houses. But it was close enough for Dirk. He finished his cigarette and snubbed it out in the mud next to his tarp. Good thing he'd brought a thermos of coffee. This was his third day of watching and recording ranch activities. Dirk congratulated himself on finding Daisy Donovan, thanks to his hacker friend. The hacker had broken into FBI records and found her name and address before he was shut down and walled out. And even though Dirk hadn't known where Susan was, listening to Daisy's side of the phone conversation had given him everything he needed.

He saw that Susan had dyed her hair brown and Dirk smiled. He could see the blond roots and wondered if she was letting it grow back to its natural color. Well, it didn't matter. Dirk had carefully noted the times and people coming to or leaving the ranch complex on his clipboard. Timing would be everything. The fact that Cade Garner was a deputy sheriff didn't help things, but Dirk understood plenty about the movement and shifts of law enforcement. Right now, the deputy was on day duty, so that would leave Dirk time to enter his home, kill Susan and leave before he ever knew what had happened.

The celebration below looked like an old-fashioned
barbecue. There were plenty of pickups and SUVs in the huge gravel parking lot. To Dirk it looked like a party celebrating the coming warmth of spring. He couldn't blame them. Knowing that snow was on the ground eight months out of the year in Wyoming, he was sure everyone was ready to see the spring weather arrive. He'd hate living here.

A twisted grin pulled at his mouth as he saw Susan come out the front door with a baby in her arms. Whose baby was it? The deputy's? Dirk had no way to know her new name, either. He figured the witness protection program had given her a new one. Did she have a kid by the cop? He recalled slamming her to the floor and punching her in the belly. Dirk had always felt Susan had deliberately gotten pregnant to hold on to him. And he hated any woman hanging on to him for whatever reasons. She'd deserved to be beaten up and lose the brat. Dirk was never sorry for that. He was sorry that he'd been caught after she'd knocked him out cold with that skillet. And that is why he was here on this day: to settle the score once and for all.

Pleasure thrummed through him as he watched Susan with the Garners. She was starting a new family here—at least temporarily. He'd already murdered Daisy Donovan and got all the information he'd needed from that one phone conversation. It had been so easy. He'd simply crept up silently behind her, lifted his pistol and put it two inches from her head.
Daisy went down like a felled ox, blood and brains spewing all over him and the wall. Dirk had simply picked up the cell phone, disconnected it and then pressed another key to retrieve the number. And then, he'd found the location: Jackson Hole, Wyoming. After that, he'd wiped the cell phone clear of prints and thrown it down next to Daisy's body. How badly he'd wanted to speak to Susan, but he didn't want her to know a thing. Dirk wanted her to worry—a lot. He felt like a cat teasing a mouse caught in a corner. Chuckling beneath his breath, Dirk felt her day was at hand….

 

C
ADE SAW THE GRIEF ETCHED
deeply on Rachel's face as he prepared to leave for the day shift. She had eaten little of the breakfast he'd prepared for them. How beautiful she looked in the quilted vest that his mother had made for her, the dark green sweater and jeans. Already the blond color of her hair was growing in. The golden color suited her. His heart ached for her.

“Yesterday's barbecue was a lot of fun. It was good to see the other ranching families in the valley come together,” he said.

Rachel nodded and pushed her plate of pancakes away. She'd eaten a few bites and felt nauseous. “It was nice to meet everyone,” she murmured. Looking up, she noticed Cade's frown, his arms wrapped across his chest. He was worried about her. “I'm okay,
Cade. Really.” Shrugging, she added, “I'm just grieving over the loss of my mom.”

Unwrapping his arms, Cade pulled his chair over next to hers. He placed an arm around her slumped shoulders. “I know. But you're not eating enough,” he said, searching her large, shadowed eyes. As he touched her hair, Cade fought to keep from becoming too intimate. Every time he wanted to speak of his love for her, something catastrophic happened to prevent it. Waiting was hell. How badly he wanted to tell Rachel that he loved her, wanted her as his wife, his best friend to be at his side forever.

Rachel absorbed his warm touch, her skin tingling pleasantly. In the past month since her mother's murder, Rachel felt nearly all her life drain out of her. If not for Cade and Jenny, she wondered if she would want to live. Plus, the threat of Dirk or his hired gunman hung over her like a sword that would someday fall. Rachel knew Dirk well enough; he was a weasel. He'd find a way to get to her. Maybe that's why she felt so depressed. The life that she loved here was already destroyed. Swallowing, Rachel forced a thin smile she didn't feel.

“Go to work. I'll be fine.”

“Mom said she was coming over later to help you piece a quilt together.” If not for quilting, Cade knew Rachel would drift away, it seemed, from life itself. He couldn't imagine losing his parents and understood her devastating grief. The quilting was a bright
spot in Rachel's life. And Gwen Garner was filling in for the loss of Daisy. Cade was forever indebted to his mother. She came over every day and the two of them would sit and work on a traditional quilt design on the kitchen table together. It was helping Rachel get through her ordeal.

“Yes, she will.”

“Mom said you were doing rails? A log pattern?” Cade knew quilting because he'd been raised around it.

Reaching out, Rachel placed her fingers over his lower arm that rested on the table in front of her. “Bright, rainbow-colored rails.”

“When do I get to see it?” he teased, smiling at her. Rachel's face was wan, more ghost than human, and it ate at Cade. He wanted to embrace Rachel, take her to his bed, hold her and love her. She wasn't there yet. Maybe she never would be. If she loved him, she hadn't said as much. And every time she reached out of her own accord to touch him, it lifted his heart, fed his hope and made him want to hang on.

“Maybe tonight,” she said. Searching his shadowy gray eyes, Rachel knew he was worried about her. She'd lost ten pounds. Patting his arm, she said, “Get going. I'll be fine. I'll see you tonight for dinner.”

Without thinking, Cade impulsively placed a warm, soft kiss on her brow. He wished he could provide sanctuary from all of her sadness.

“Okay,” he whispered, “tonight.”
I love you
nearly
tore out of his mouth. Cade fought hard to swallow the words as he left the chair and moved away from Rachel. God, how long would he have to wait? He shrugged into his jacket and picked up his hat. Cade understood that until Payson was found, there would be no relaxation of tension in this household. There couldn't be.

A hired security guard, Randy Evans, remained on duty outside Cade's home. He routinely drove the road coming into the ranch once an hour. And when he returned, he would check to make sure Rachel and Jenny were safe. Randy left when Cade got off duty.

Rachel lived as a virtual prisoner in the house. She'd meant to leave so that she could protect the family. They'd argued heatedly over her decision. Because of her mother's death, Rachel no longer had the endurance or strength to overcome Cade and his family's decision to keep her at the ranch. There just wasn't any fight left in her, and Rachel finally bowed to their request. Besides, Cade had told her if she did leave, he would find her. And bring her home. To his home.

“Have a good shift,” Rachel called as he walked out of the room. “Stay safe….” Because Rachel could not conceive of her life without Cade in it, not anymore.

Cade smiled. “Don't worry about me. You just eat and regain that lost weight. Okay?”

Rachel nodded and listened to the boot footfalls down the hall, the door opening and then closing. Automatically, she went to lock it. That was her life: locked doors and locked windows all the time now. Randy would knock at the kitchen door an hour from now. Pushing some strands off her brow, Rachel walked back to the kitchen. Jenny played in her pen, most of the time now on her tiny legs rather than crawling around. She was a good baby and Rachel went over, picked her up and held her.

“Let's practice your walking, young lady, before I do the morning dishes, okay?”

Jenny smiled and waved her hands. She now knew
Mama
and
Dada.
And she had taken her first real steps a day before Rachel's mother's murder. Since then she worked several times a day with the baby to help strengthen her legs and body. Rachel focused on her job, a labor of love, and tried to forget the danger she was in. She sat down on the rug and placed Jennie in front of her, hands on her tiny ones.

Rachel lost herself in Jenny's little steps. Her heart rose in joy as the child eagerly stepped toward her. Finally, after about ten minutes, Rachel got on her knees and gently released Jenny's hands. The infant tottered back and forth, but eventually found her balance.

“That's a good girl,” Rachel called. She scooted about two feet away from her and yet close enough in case Jenny started to fall. “Come to me, Jenny….”

The little girl smiled and tottered forward, her hands extended toward Rachel. Each step was a little more solid and less wobbly than the next. As she met Rachel's outstretched hands, she bubbled.

Rachel laughed softly. “Perfect, Jenny!” There was a sudden, muted noise. Lifting her head, her hands on Jenny's, Rachel glanced toward the hall where it had originated. It was a cloudy day and she hadn't turned on the light. What was that sound? It might be a bird hitting one of the windows. That had happened before.

Rachel turned, her back to the hallway as she maneuvered Jenny. The infant understood what she wanted and lurched from side to side as she made her way into Rachel's arms. They laughed together and Rachel picked her up. “Enough for now, young lady,” she whispered, kissing Jenny's forehead. Walking into the kitchen, she put her back into the playpen.

“Well, well…”

Rachel's head snapped up. She stood, gasping. There, in the doorway, was Dirk Payson, grinning at her. Instantly, her pulse raced dangerously. Her eyes widened as she realized how different he looked. And yet, it was him. Her murdering ex-husband.

Dirk's smile grew, as if he was glorying in the abject terror he saw in her eyes and face. “What's the matter, baby? You don't recognize me?” He held a gun in his hand. With a flourish, he pointed to his face with his left hand. “I spent eight weeks down
in Mexico getting this eye-candy look. Pretty nice, huh?”

Rachel's world spun. Gripping the side of the playpen, she felt all her maternal instincts taking over. She walked around and placed herself between Jenny and Dirk. Randy was on his rounds and wouldn't return for at least forty minutes. Rage tunneled through her and yet, she knew her ex-husband's volatile temper. Jenny
had
to be kept safe! The gun's barrel was pointed at her chest. “How did you find me?” she rasped.

Chuckling, Dirk, pulled a pack of smokes from the inside of his dark green jacket. “Easy enough,” he said, putting the cigarette between his lips. He slid the pack into his jacket and found the lighter in another pocket. With his cigarette lit, the smoke curled. “I hired a hacker to hack into FBI records. He found your mother's address. And then, your mother let the cat out of the bag, honey. All I had to do was find the number on her cell phone, look it up and see it originated from Jackson Hole, Wyoming.” He saw the rage come to Rachel's eyes. It felt good to goad her. And Dirk wanted to hurt her. He felt the power flow into his hands.

“Y-you killed her. I knew you did it!” Rachel whispered, tears coming to her eyes. Quickly, she forced them back.

Payson sucked on the cigarette, blew out a cloud of smoke and smiled at her. A sense of absolute joy
coursed through him. “I told you in court that day they sentenced me, that I'd kill your entire family,” he sneered. “I meant it.” His voice changed. “You're next on the list. What made you think you'd get away with testifying against me?”

Rachel struggled to hold on to her white-hot anger. “You killed our baby, Dirk. You nearly killed me.”

“Too bad I didn't finish the job then. If I had realized you were going to rat on me and then testify, I'd have finished you off right then and there.”

The coldness in his eyes frightened her. She knew that as soon as Dirk finished his cigarette, he'd kill her. “Please,” she pleaded, “leave the baby out of this.”

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