Whitehorse (49 page)

Johnny walked to the plate-glass door and looked out on the distant horizon, where the gray rainclouds met the wind-whipped ocean. Maude was right. No way was he taking his plane through those clouds.

"I expected more enthusiasm." Savanah moved up beside him. "It's Leah, isn't it? You know this will destroy her. More important, it will undoubtedly destroy the two of you."

"She'll see reason. She has to."

Savanah laid her hand on Johnny's arm. "For your sake, I hope you're right. Me? The bastard killed my sister. I'm going to make sure he goes to prison for the rest of his life."

"Maybe."

Frowning, Savanah shook her head in confusion. "Maybe? Are you telling me that you question whether Foster was behind the attempt to kill you and Dolores?"

Johnny turned away. "I think I'll have that sandwich now."

Savanah paced as Johnny stood at the glass door, ate his goose-liver sandwich and watched the rain slam against the coast. Lightning danced above the waves and thunder vibrated the walls of the condominium.

Finally, Maude emerged wearing an apron and rubber gloves. She handed the still damp photograph to Johnny. He moved to the lamp and turned the eight-by-ten into the light.

"Ah God," he groaned. "That son-of-a-bitch."

TWENTY-TWO

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^

"
J
ohnny's in
Albuquerque
," Shamika explained. "He asks that you not come to any rash decisions. He'll explain everything to you when he gets home."

"Did you tell him what I told you to tell him? Shall I repeat it for you in case you forgot?" Leah replied, her attention fixed on the hotel lobby's front entrance as she gripped the phone receiver to her ear.

"Honey, I don't use language like that in mixed company."

The lobby doors opened and a group of laughing tourists entered, their hair and clothes dripping water. Behind them, rain streaked like knives against the pavement.

"I take it you've not seen your father yet."

"I've been waiting since eleven. No one seems to know when he'll return, or where he is for that matter."

"If he's smart he's gotten the heck out of Dodge before the you-know-what hits the fan."

"You know as well as I that my father backs down from nothing."

"Neither does Godzilla. If something or someone gets in his way he just stomps the bejesus out of it. In fact, that's probably where he is now, preparing to launch a full-scale attack against Johnny. Your office phone is ringing again. Shall I answer it?"

"No." She glanced at the elevator, the front doors, the entrance to the coffeeshop.

"I know you don't want to hear this now, but I got another call from the school. Sandra Howard is extremely concerned over Val. Leah, he's not taking this situation well. He's confused and showing signs of his old depression. He keeps asking for Johnny."

"He'll get over it. There was life before Johnny Whitehorse—"

"Apparently not for Val, and if you'll be honest with yourself for once, not for you either."

Leah looked at her watch. Sandra Howard would be loading up the kids into the bus about now. The trip from the school to home normally took thirty minutes, but in this rain would take longer. If she left now she would make it home in time for Val's arrival.

Shamika sighed. "Why, exactly, are you trying to see your father, Leah? What will it accomplish? Do you think by looking him in the eye and asking if he was in any way involved with Rainwater's death you're going to determine if he's lying or not? Where have you been for thirty years? The man is a
United States
senator, for God's sake. They
invented
the lie. In fact, I think I read someplace that the serpent in the Garden of Eden went on to become the first elected politician."

The lobby door opened again and a man entered, his attention focused on the umbrella he was struggling to close.

"Leah, are you there?" Shamika said in her ear.

"Yes." She nodded. "I have to go now. I want to be home when Val gets there."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said today."

Leah hit the End key on the mobile phone, then the Power button, her gaze still locked on the man who finally turned toward her, mopping his damp face with a handkerchief. He looked directly at her, and froze.

"Hello, Robert." Leah tucked the phone into her pocket and moved across the lobby. "I thought you were staying at the
Inn
of the Mountain Gods."

"Right." He nodded and folded the handkerchief. "Just here on business. And you?"

"I came to see my father."

His eyebrows raised and he glanced toward the elevator. "I didn't realize the senator was in town." He tapped the end of his umbrella on the floor to dislodge the remaining rain. "What's Johnny up to these days?"

Leah frowned. "Haven't been by the ranch in the last couple of days?"

"I spoke with Ed and Jack a couple of times. Ed tells me that you and Johnny have been holed up like lovebirds making plans for your marriage."

"So you haven't spoken with Johnny personally."

"Can't seem to get through to him." He gave her a thin smile. "You can't keep him all to yourself, you know. The man's got responsibilities. Tell him to give me a call. We have issues to discuss."

"I'll bet."

They stared at one another a silent moment, then Leah looked away. "I have to go. Val will be on his way home."

"Good seeing you again. Oh, and drive safely. We wouldn't want another of Johnny's girlfriends to end up like Dolores … would we?"

"Why do I get the impression you would like nothing better, Mr. Anderson?"

Turning her back on
Anderson
, Leah exited the hotel, glancing back briefly before running through the rain to her truck. With water running down her cheeks, she stared out through the rain-spattered window, watching as
Anderson
left the hotel and headed for his rented car.

Odd that
Anderson
would know nothing about Johnny's being out of town, or the fact that she, Shamika, and Val had moved out of the ranch and back home two days ago. Why hadn't Ed informed him that Johnny was after evidence to prove her father was somehow involved with Dolores's death? Johnny never made a move or a statement without first consulting the consequences with
Anderson
.

The truck shimmied, coughed, sputtered, and died three times before the engine finally turned over. The wipers scratched across the windshield, doing little to alleviate the torrent washing down over the truck. Leah drove as slowly as possible through the downtown traffic, revving the engine to keep it from dying when she was forced to stop at red lights.

She turned on the radio just as the news came on, then turned it off. She wasn't in the mood to listen to more discussion about Johnny and her father and the investigation of Formation Media and Dolores's death, or the speculation on whether or not she, the senator's daughter, would marry Johnny Whitehorse.

Turning on to Highway 249, she left the heavy traffic behind her. The rain, however, fell harder, forcing her to a crawl as she did her best to make out the broken yellow lines on one side, the shoulder of the road on the other. Cars moved up behind her and, growing impatient, whipped around her regardless of the slippery highway and the fact that visibility was virtually nil, their tires sending water spraying in a blinding curtain over her windshield.

Again, a car moved up behind her, close, its bright lights like two staring eyes in the thick gray rain. It did not move around her, just inched closer, until it seemed to Leah to be inches from her bumper. If she was forced to brake suddenly, especially in this rain, no way would the driver avoid rear-ending her.

Carefully, she eased over to the shoulder, allowing him room to pass. The car crept by her, its driver waving his thanks before speeding off into the haze.

Tense, her hands gripping the steering wheel almost painfully, Leah did her best to breathe evenly as she moved back onto the road, dropping her speed even more as she came to a bend in the highway.

Through the deluge came a flash of colored lights. The cars that had passed her moments before were braking and pulling off the highway as police in rain slickers waved them aside to allow one of the many emergency vehicles through. Sirens screaming and beacons blinking red and yellow lights, first one ambulance streaked by Leah, then another, on their way to
Ruidoso
Hospital
.

From her position she could just make out the jack-knifed cab and trailer of an eighteen-wheeler that had obviously failed in its attempt to avoid hitting another vehicle. Leah turned off the engine and jumped from the truck, catching her breath as the rain speared into her face like little needles. She ran along the highway shoulder, shielding her eyes with one hand, nudging her way through the onlookers in hopes of offering her medical expertise in any way possible.