Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Canyon) (29 page)

Ben didn’t like where this was going. “If Claire’s got it, she doesn’t know it. She’s told you everything she remembers.”

The waitress refilled Castillo’s cup and walked away. “Her laptop was the only thing taken. They could be looking for emails between her and Sullivan, something that would help them locate whatever it is they want.”

“Sullivan was in her apartment a couple of times. If he was being followed, they’d know where she lived.”

Castillo mulled that over. “If they come after her, can you keep her safe?”

Ben thought of the torture Michael Sullivan had suffered, and his stomach burned. “You can count on it.”

* * *

Ben picked up Claire after work, but he didn’t take her home. Claire was only a little surprised when he headed for the shooting range.

“Castillo says Sullivan’s apartment was trashed just like yours. That means someone is after something. They wouldn’t have hit your place if they’d found it. That means they might come after you. I want you to know how to defend yourself.”

“I don’t know, Ben. I’ve never shot a gun.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Are you sure this is necessary? They don’t even know where I am.”

“No, but they might find out. My house has the best alarm system money can buy. You’ll know if someone’s coming in, but if they’re serious about getting to you, they’ll still get inside, and you’ll still have to stop them.”

Claire was nervous, but Ben was determined, and she had to admit, she had always been curious.

“Just relax,” he said. “This is my ankle gun— six-shot, .38 revolver. It’s very easy to use.”

First he showed her how to load and unload the weapon, how to cock it, instructed her in all the safety aspects she needed to know. “It’s only loaded with five bullets, so the chamber beneath the hammer is empty. That way it won’t go off if you drop it. When you cock the weapon, the cylinder turns and the gun is ready to fire.”

She worked with it for a while, then they were ready to shoot. Her hand shook as Ben showed her how to hold the weapon, then moved behind her to steady her aim. With that big hard body and all those amazing muscles pressed against her, she could barely concentrate. She shifted against him and heard his soft curse.

“You make me crazy, you know that?”

“What?” She looked at him over her shoulder, saw his mouth curve up and his eyes dancing. She gasped as he leaned forward, let her feel his erection.

Claire laughed.

“You think that’s funny, huh? I’m trying to teach you to shoot.”

“It isn’t my fault. Well, not exactly.”

“It’s exactly your fault,” he teased. “Now let’s try it again.”

She was still smiling as she aimed at the paper target, relaxed for the first time. She missed the first two shots, hit the third, fourth and fifth.

“Not bad. Let’s try it again.”

She fired and reloaded until Ben was satisfied she could aim and hit what she was shooting at.

Finally he took the gun from her hand and they headed back to the house. She should have felt safer, but she didn’t.

Thirty-One

T
hough no one knew where she was, Ben was still guarding her like a rottweiler, driving her to work, insisting she have lunch in her office, picking her up after the office closed.

At night, either she or Ben helped Sam with his homework before they ate supper. Afterward, they played board games or watched TV. Once Sam was asleep, Ben would come into her bedroom and they would make love. In the morning he drove her to work and the routine started all over again.

Ben barely let her out of his sight, and the terrifying part was she liked it. She liked being part of a family. She loved having Sam in her life. She loved being with a strong, protective, sexually attractive mate who satisfied her in bed. She loved Ben.

But she didn’t like sneaking around the way they were. It was time to do something about it.

On Friday night, Sam was having a sleepover with his new best friend, Marty James. Marty had been at Sam’s birthday party, and they had grown closer since then. Ben was sitting at the kitchen table after supper cleaning his pistol. Watching him, Claire took a moment to summon her courage, then walked up behind him.

“What kind of gun is that?”

“Nighthawk .45.” He pushed the button and the clip dropped out of the bottom into his hand. He checked to be sure it wasn’t loaded, then handed it to Claire. “You did good with the revolver. I’ll teach you to shoot this one, too.”

She looked it over, handed it back, searched his dear, handsome face. If she was ever going to do this, it had to be now. “A woman wouldn’t need to know how to shoot a gun if she were married to a man like you.”

His eyes shot to hers, assessing the look on her face. “It wouldn’t hurt. Like I said, you were good with the revolver. No reason you couldn’t handle a gun like this.”

She glanced away. “Maybe so.”

Ben grabbed her hand and dragged her down on his lap. “You’re talking about marriage. You’ve been thinking about it. Are you saying you’ll marry me?”

She kept her features even, determined to make it appear as if this were as unimportant as he had made it seem, but her insides were quaking. Saying yes to a man who didn’t love her was the most terrifying thing she had ever done. She took the same tone he had taken when he’d made his “practical” proposal.

Claire shrugged her shoulders. “We’re sleeping together anyway. It’s hard with Sam in the house.”

He shifted a little beneath her, letting her feel his arousal. “It’s hard with
you
in the house, angel.”

She couldn’t quite muster a smile. Her heart was throbbing dully, aching inside her chest. “I wouldn’t have to spend the money the insurance company is giving me to replace the furniture in my apartment. We could use some of it here, make things more comfortable for the three of us.”

“You could put it in the bank. I’d pay for anything you wanted to do to the house. I know it’s not very female friendly.”

Her heart was pounding. She could feel tears threatening behind her eyes. Dear God, she couldn’t cry. She didn’t want him to know how difficult this was for her.

“I wouldn’t change much,” she said casually. “Maybe just some ruffled curtains in the kitchen, a few things like that.”

“Maybe we’d sell this place and buy something bigger, give us a little more room.”

“Could we afford it?”

“We could.”

Her throat tightened. A bigger house wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted Ben to love her. “That...that might be a good idea.”

“What about next week?”

What did it matter? It was only the rest of her life.

“Sure.” She forced an upbeat note into her voice, but her heart was hurting, squeezing inside her chest. “We could go down to the courthouse on my lunch hour.”

She was going to cry if this didn’t stop. She’d always imagined a white wedding gown and an orchid bouquet, a flower girl and a ring bearer. Walking down the aisle on her father’s arm to join the man she loved at the altar. A man who loved her in return.

She thought of her parents and how disappointed they would be to miss her wedding. They didn’t even know Ben existed. She thought of the romantic honeymoon she had imagined, walking on the beach in the moonlight, drinking champagne and making love, and her heart squeezed even harder.

“We’d need someone to stand up with us,” Ben said.

“Maybe Sage and Jake.” Her voice sounded strained. She prayed Ben wouldn’t notice. “Or if they can’t, we could ask Trace and Maggie.”

“I’ll talk to them on Monday.” His eyes were on her face, pale eyes, cold some people said, but she knew they were hot as flame. Something shifted in his features, something was there that hadn’t been there before.

Maybe he was getting cold feet. Maybe he would save them both by saying no. “You still want to do it, right? Because if you’ve changed your mind—”

“Jesus! No, I haven’t changed my mind. I want us to get married. Are you saying yes?”

The lump in her throat was so big she wasn’t sure she could talk around it. She should be happy, but her chest was aching, her heart throbbing.

She loved him so much.

All Ben wanted was someone he enjoyed in bed and a mother for his son. “Yes.”

He stood up with her still in his arms. “You won’t be sorry, angel. I promise.”

But Claire was already sorry. She wanted a man who loved her with all his heart.

It didn’t matter.

She was going to marry Ben.

* * *

Monday morning, Claire sat behind her desk at the University District Neighborhood Center. Her job was to coordinate public relations for the different centers in the Houston area, supervise and train volunteers.

One of those volunteers, Carol Blankenship, the receptionist, walked into her office just as Claire’s cell phone started ringing. She picked it up off her desk, recognized Ben’s home number and pressed it against her ear.

She recognized the voice but it wasn’t Ben—it was Mrs. McKenzie, the babysitter. “Emma?” She held up her hand when Carol started to say something about the ribbon-wrapped package she held in her hand. “What is it? Has something happened to Sam?”

Carol set the package down on the corner of Claire’s desk and walked back out of the room.

“I’m sorry to call you at work,” Emma said, “but I am just sick as a dog. I don’t know if I ate something or what, but I had to go home. I tried Ben at his office, but the call went straight to his voice mail. Same with his cell phone. I figure he must be out on a job. I don’t know what to do about Sam, Claire, but I won’t be there when he gets off the school bus.”

Claire looked at her watch. It was almost time for the bus to arrive. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve put in a lot of overtime since I started.”
Trying to keep my mind off Ben.
“I can leave a few hours early. I’ll be there when Sam gets home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Take care of yourself and I hope you’re feeling better soon.” Claire ended the call and walked out into the reception area. “Is John here?” One of her colleagues at the center. “I’ve got to go home early. I’m hoping he can give me a ride.”

Ben wouldn’t like it, but at least John was a man, and once she got to the house, she could set the alarm, and she had Ben’s revolver if she needed it. Maybe it was good he had taught her to use it.

John appeared a few minutes later, car keys in hand. Claire grabbed the package off her desk, wondering if it was something Ben had sent, hoping it was, and headed out the door.

It didn’t take long to reach the house. John dropped her off in front and she waved as she walked up on the porch. Once she got inside, she reset the alarm, gave Pepper a couple of pats, then went into Ben’s bedroom to unlock the gun safe in the drawer next to his bed.

Ben had had lengthy discussions with Sam about weapons. He had told the boy how dangerous guns could be and promised to teach him how to handle a pistol as soon as he was old enough.

Of course Sam knew about the shooting in El Paso, and Ben had even shown him the bullet hole in his side to make the point.

Still, they kept the weapons locked up unless there was a reason to have one of them out. Just to soothe a little of Ben’s ire, she made sure the pistol was in easy reach.

Claire checked the time. Sam was due home any minute. Glancing out the window, she saw the big orange school bus pull up at the corner. Hurrying across the living room, she turned off the alarm and opened the door.

Sam waved and ran toward her. Pepper barked and wagged his tail as Claire walked out on the porch to greet him. She didn’t noticed the white van parked on the street until the door slid open and a lean, dark-haired man jumped out.

Her heart jerked as she recognized Troy Bragg, and fear tore through her. “Sam!” Claire had taken only two steps before a man came up behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her back against his hard body. He pressed a pistol against the side of her head.

“You want the boy unharmed, keep quiet and keep walking.”

She didn’t know the voice, but she figured Duke Hutchins. She was shaking all over as she watched Troy manhandle Sam, binding his wrists, slapping a piece of tape over his mouth. Troy hoisted him up and tossed him into the van.

“Keep walking.”

From the corner of her eyes, she recognized Hutchins’s face. She considered screaming, but Duke had shot Ben without the slightest qualm, and Sam needed her. One thing she believed with all her heart—Ben would find them. He wouldn’t give up until he did.

All she had to do was keep Sam safe until Ben could get there.

Claire climbed into the van. Troy jerked her wrists behind her and used a plastic zip tie to bind them. Tearing off a strip of duct tape, he pressed it over her mouth and shoved her down on the floor behind the seats.

Sam lay next to her, his face pale as glass, his small body shaking and cold as ice. She wanted to reassure him, pull him into her arms, but with her hands tied behind her, all she could do was press herself against him. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, stared into his frightened eyes, and tried to silently tell him that everything would be all right. She prayed he would know his father would come for him, just as he had before.

The only problem was she had no idea where Troy and Duke were taking them.

Or what would happen to them when they got there.

* * *

Ben hit the button on his voice mail to play back his messages. He hated the damn machine. He liked it better when Annie handled the calls, wrote out the name and number on a slip of paper. Annie knew which calls were important, which weren’t and those that were urgent enough to track him down. A goddamn machine couldn’t do that.

He listened to a couple of calls and wrote down the phone numbers, one a former client that could be important. All the while he was thinking of Claire, anxious to see her, tell her he had talked to Jake and that he and Sage would be happy to stand up with them at the courthouse one day this week. He couldn’t believe how excited he was to be marrying her.

It was crazy, considering how hard he had worked to avoid any sort of commitment, but as far as he was concerned, marrying Claire couldn’t happen soon enough.

The third message was from Emma. She was sick, she said, and had to go home. Since she couldn’t reach him, she was calling Claire at the office to see if she could meet Sam’s bus.

Uneasiness slid through him. He didn’t want Claire in the house alone. As soon as the call ended, Ben phoned her cell. Her BlackBerry rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. He phoned the house. No answer there.

He checked his watch. Sam should have been home by now. His adrenaline was kicking up, making his heart beat faster. He phoned Claire’s office.

“I’m looking for Claire Chastain. This is Ben Slocum. Is she there?”

“Claire left early,” the receptionist said. “Something about being home when Sam got off the bus.”

His stomach tightened. “How’d she get there?”

“John Conrad gave her a ride. John works here.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“I’ll put you through.”

But Conrad wasn’t any help. He had dropped Claire off at the house. He had watched her go inside. Ben was up and heading for the door before the call had ended. He drove like a madman the few blocks home.

When he pulled up in front of the house and saw the door standing open, saw Pepper lying on the porch looking forlorn, he couldn’t breathe. He turned off the engine and ran inside, saw no sign of Claire or Sam and dialed 911.

That was when he saw the ribbon-wrapped box. It was sitting on the kitchen counter. Claire’s name was on the top, but she hadn’t opened it yet. Ben took out his pocket knife and sliced through the ribbon, lifted off the lid.

Inside the box was a note that read,
“
We want the flash drive.”

Beneath it was Michael Sullivan’s ear.