Just Down the Road (32 page)

Tyler didn’t breathe. He waited and waited. Nothing. Only one ring.

Several heartbeats later the phone rang again. One short ring and then nothing.

He let out a long breath he felt he’d been holding for twenty-three days.

She’d used the code. Kate was safe and on her way home.

He smiled. Tonight he was the luckiest man alive.

T
URNER
R
ANCH

T
INCH HAD TAKEN TO DRINKING COFFEE BY THE POT.
I
N
the days since he’d seen Addison, he’d given up sleep completely. He tried. He’d close his eyes and relax, but the image of her ivory body lying on her midnight blue coat in the barn would always be there waiting for him. The feel of her, the way she tasted, the look in her eyes when she was starving for his touch, all were collaborating to drive him completely mad.

She must have felt it too. She e-mailed him several times and called to check in. Always, she asked how he was. What was going on? Was Jamie happy? But Tinch knew what both were not saying. He wanted her and she wanted him, but neither knew how to start talking about it.

When he saw her again, he planned to let her know how he felt without talking at all.

Last night, he ended his last e-mail report to her with
simply,
Someday, I promise we’ll have time to finish what we started in the barn
.

He wasn’t sure she’d even know what he meant, but a moment later the screen blinked and she answered.
Someday, I’ll be waiting.

It wasn’t exactly a love note. Just a promise that they would have their time together. If a one-night stand was all she wanted, then he’d take it. One night would have to last him a long time, but he’d at least have the memory, and he’d learned he could survive on memories.

The temperature dropped with the sun and by the time they’d finished supper, Jamie was piling up blankets and still shivering. Rain tapped against the window to a lonely beat.

Tinch took the boy up to bed and decided to read him another story. The kid loved adventure, and Tinch’s mom had kept all his old tales from
Tarzan
to
The Lone Ranger
. An hour into the first book the boy fell asleep, his arm looped around Tinch’s as if he had to hang on even in dreams.

Closing the book, Tinch thought he’d just rest a minute before taking his shower, but sleep found him. Deep, dreamless sleep. The wind howled outside and the old heater in the basement clanked every time it came on, but Tinch and the boy slept.

Deep into the night, Tinch finally moved, feeling the crick in his neck while sleeping half sitting up. The book on his chest slid to the floor with a thud. Without bothering to pick it up, he rolled over, pulling covers over them both as he settled back into sleep.

The chime downstairs barely registered in his mind for a moment, and then he came full awake. Someone was on his land. As he climbed out of bed, he glanced at the clock. Three fifteen. This was no visit from the sheriff. Trouble was blowing in.

With one hand, Tinch shook Jamie awake. “Red Alert, son, time to put into action what we practiced.” With the other hand, Tinch reached for his phone.

Panic shot through his veins like adrenaline. He must have left it downstairs. Damn, he’d worried about the thing for more than two weeks and the first time he needed it, the cell phone was missing.

Jamie rubbed his eyes but didn’t question the order. The boy pulled on his boots as Tinch reached for the rifle above an old wardrobe.

A moment later Jamie followed him down the stairs, dragging his blanket behind him. Tinch opened the small hiding place that had once held the vacuum cleaner. “Get in. You’ll be safe.”

“I don’t want to go in there,” Jamie whispered with a sob. “I don’t want to. It’s dark in there. Don’t make me. Please don’t make me.”

Tinch wanted to push the boy in and order him to remain silent, but the pain he saw in Jamie’s eyes was too raw. Someone had closed him up before, maybe for a long time. In the daylight the little closet hadn’t looked so frightening, but tonight the kid would be in total blackness. He’d promised he wouldn’t ever lock Jamie away, and he wouldn’t break his word.

Grabbing his own jacket off the stair railing, Tinch helped the boy into it as he instructed, “Go out the back door and run to the barn. Hide there and don’t come back until I call you. If any stranger steps into the barn, go through one of the swing slats in the wall and run. Run like hell, son, promise me. No matter what you hear, keep running until you reach someplace safe.”

Jamie nodded and bolted toward the door off the kitchen.

Tinch glanced out the long row of front windows. He could barely make out a gray van heading toward him with the lights off. They were moving slow, probably thinking they could sneak up on the house. Not even the two pups sleeping on a rug by the door had heard them yet.

If he needed any proof that trouble was coming, the fact that the headlights were off told him all he needed to know. Without turning on a lamp, he crept across the living area, feeling for his cell on every counter and table he passed.

Tinch pulled an old double-barreled shotgun down from above the bookshelf. He was all that stood between Jamie and these men, and he’d stand alone.

The van was in the yard thirty feet from the house when Tinch reached the porch. He held the rifle against his leg and set the shotgun six inches away at the railing.

As the passenger door of the van opened, Tinch flipped on the yard lights, keeping himself in shadows, but the men in full light. “That’s far enough,” Tinch yelled.

A big man had slid the back door of the van halfway open, but he didn’t make a move to get out. The front passenger, his twin in age and size, slowly rolled from the seat and stood still, his hands in the air.

Tinch couldn’t see the driver very well, but it looked like he did the same thing. With his hands high, he circled the van until he was in full sight. The driver was smaller than his passengers, but no more welcome.

“Sorry to bother you,” he shouted. “We mean you no harm, Mr. Turner. You see, we’re lost and were hoping for …” The short driver didn’t seem to take the warning seriously. He sauntered toward Tinch as if he hadn’t noticed he might not be welcome.

Tinch raised his rifle. “Stop right there and try again.” Anyone lost wouldn’t have called him Mr. Turner. These three knew exactly where they were and they had no doubt they were on his land.

The pups were awake now and must have sensed Tinch’s mood, for they were both off the porch and growling at the driver.

The little man seemed more afraid of the dogs than of Tinch. He backed up until he hit the side of the van. “Look, Mr. Turner, we’re not here to hurt anyone or cause trouble. We just came to ask you a few questions. Then we’ll go.”

“That why you came in with your lights off?”

The guy straightened as if stepping out of the sheep’s clothing he’d been trying to wear. “All right.” He held his hand up and pointed to the passenger. “It was Henry’s idea to catch you by surprise. He thought you’d give us straighter
answers, but we’re not here to hurt you or anyone you got here. We just want to talk to Sadie’s brat. You can ask the kid. He knows me. Just tell him Memphis is here and all I want to do is talk to him.”

“What boy?” Tinch’s words came cold.

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have the kid here. We looked it up and Sadie Noble only had one living relative, your wife. It just makes sense they’d try to dump the kid off on you.”

“No one dumped a kid on me. Why don’t you just get back in that van and head out the way you came. Turn your lights on this time. I don’t want you hitting my gate on your way out.”

Memphis inched a step closer to the porch, his shoulders rounded as if in defeat. “Look, Turner, we just want to talk. You know, a friendly visit. There’s a thousand dollars in it if you’ll give us five minutes with him. He ain’t nothing but trouble anyway. I should know. I’ve been the only discipline in his life for a year. His mom was always too strung out to care what he did.”

Tinch remembered the bruises on Jamie’s back and had to fight to keep from pulling the trigger.

Memphis took another step toward the corner of the porch. “How about five thousand for five minutes with the kid, then we leave. A small place like this, you could probably use the money and we won’t hurt him much. If he claimed we hurt him, he’s lying. If we didn’t have some fun with him now and then, no one would ever pay attention to him.”

“Get off my land.” Tinch forced the words out as he pointed the barrel of the rifle. “One step on my porch and you’re a dead man.”

Memphis shrugged as if he’d given up. “Too bad,” he said. “You could have made this easy.”

Hearing the squeak of a door, Tinch glanced back at the van. The big guy in the front seat was still standing where he’d stepped out, but his hands were no longer in the air.

Tinch raised his rifle a moment before he noticed the thug in the back was missing. Both Memphis and the guy
he’d called Henry were moving slowly toward different ends of the porch.

Tinch had never shot a man, and he hesitated a second before taking aim on Memphis. His father’s word from a hunting trip flashed through his mind.
If you take aim, son, take aim to kill. Never leave an animal wounded.
As far as he’d seen and heard, calling Memphis an animal would be giving him an upgrade.

Memphis jerked, reaching for something in his coat as Tinch squeezed the trigger slowly and sighted on the center of the man’s chest.

A shot blasted through the air like a cannon, knocking Tinch back and sending the bullet he’d fired wild into the night.

The whole world blinked suddenly as if lightning and thunder had hit at once. Tinch spun. He saw the man at the back of the van with a rifle aimed, ready to fire again. Memphis and Henry were running toward him, both with weapons pointed at him. Henry ripped the rifle away from Tinch’s hand. Then, all within the same heartbeat, a fiery pain spread from Tinch’s side, rippling and burning in waves through his entire body.

He touched his ribs, now covered in warm blood, a moment before the butt of the rifle slammed against the side of his head.

He crumbled, his eyes closed, into hell. A thought rolled around between the pain. He was dying. He’d be with Lori Anne soon. He’d finally get the one thing he’d hoped for since the day his wife died. He could simply rest and let the world slip away.

Then, like a hollow ache deep inside, he realized he no longer wanted to die. He couldn’t. He had Jamie to raise. He’d made a promise to Addison. He couldn’t leave. Lori Anne would have to wait awhile longer.

Tinch forced the pain aside and concentrated on what was going on around him.

“He’s dead, Sullivan,” Memphis shouted, his voice wheezy with excitement. “Don’t waste another bullet on him.”

The shadow of one of the thugs moved over Tinch, but he forced his body still. Let them think he was dead. It might be his only chance of living.

“If he ain’t dead, he will be soon,” one mumbled. “His blood is painting the porch.”

The dogs were circling around the porch barking.

Memphis swore, then ordered, “Kill the dogs, Henry, I’m tired of hearing them yapping. Then we’ll find the boy and get the hell out of here.”

“Make Sullivan kill them. I hate killing dogs.”

“You won’t hate it so bad when one of them bites you.”

Tinch heard a shot and a dog yelp in pain. Henry must be following orders.

Memphis laughed. “You just winged him, you idiot. Look at them run.” His laughter ran high and loud before he added, “Just as well. No use wasting time looking for a black dog in the night. We came after the boy. Let’s get this over with.”

Tinch opened one eye just enough to see the little man moving into the house. He couldn’t have been five feet four, but he carried his shoulders high, as if that stretched him a bit.

“Maybe we should burn the barn,” the thug called Sullivan asked. “With it burning and his uncle dead, little Jamie will tell us anything we want to know, and we won’t have to lay a hand on him.”

Panic ignited where worry had been in Tinch’s mind. He didn’t know where Jamie had hidden. The barn? One of a dozen hiding places in the fields? The Rogers place?

“Someone will see the fire, you idiot.” Memphis’s voice sounded older, slower than before. He was either tired of the two thugs, or tired of the hunt. He wasn’t a man who wore patience well, Tinch guessed.

“We’ll be long gone before anyone would see a fire.” Henry added his opinion from inside the house. “It’s not like folks have a neighborhood watch this far out of town.”

Sullivan must have stalled as if to discuss the choices, because Memphis swore, snapping insults like he might a
whip to get the two men moving. “Forget the barn,” he said, ending any plans the other two had. “I know how to make the boy talk. So help Henry find the brat. He’s around here somewhere, probably whimpering like a little rabbit just waiting to be caught.”