Deadly Sanctuary (29 page)

“Tally, what are you…” The deadly look in his eyes stopped my next words. I let out a little shriek of pain when he grabbed a handful of my hair. His lips came down on mine with such bruising force, our teeth clattered together. The sun seemed to explode inside my head. This was no gentlemanly kiss. It was raw with anger and desire.

Crushed against his lean body, I struggled with my own emotions of fear and yearning for this rough man. The kiss seemed to go on forever, and I didn’t care.

When he finally pulled away, we were both gasping for breath. The blaze of passion he ignited left me shaking and more bewildered than ever.

He gave me a curt nod, turned, and strode away. As if on cue, the blue pickup rounded the bend and braked to a stop. He climbed into the truck and in seconds it roared from view. As if in a trance, I just stood there staring dumbly at the trail of dust hanging above the deserted road.

Slowly, very slowly, rational thought began to return. Somehow, I forced my rubbery legs to transport me into the house. In a half daze I checked the answering machine. There were six hangups, all probably from Tally. And, there was a message from Ginger demanding to know why I hadn’t come to the barbecue. No way was I going to deal with her this early. I slipped out of my clothes and headed for the shower. All the while, something kept hammering inside my brain like the annoying
rat-a-tat
of a woodpecker. Tally had said something significant right before that scorching kiss had blotted it out.

As always, I automatically checked the tub and walls for spiders before stepping in. It wasn’t until the first blast of water hit me that his words came back to me. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” drummed in my head. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” The phrase ricocheted around a few more times, and then I stiffened in shock.

“Damn it!” I screamed. “He told him!” I shut the water off, threw the shower curtain aside, and bounded to the bedroom phone. Dripping wet, I punched Tugg’s number so hard, my fingernail broke.

“Hello?” It was Mary Tugg.

I drew in a deep breath, and hoped my voice wouldn’t shake with anger. “Mary. This is Kendall. I’m sorry to call so early, but I need to talk to Tugg right away.”

“Kendall? It’s barely seven o’clock. Can he call you later?” She sounded puzzled.

“No. I need to talk to him now. It’s important.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Kendall, he had a really bad night.

He’s on a lot of medication and I’m not going to disturb him. Whatever it is will just have to wait.”

I could tell by the firmness in her voice that I wasn’t going to get through. “Have him call me at home the minute he’s awake,” I said shortly and hung up.

With a groan I fell onto the bed, face down. The cool air blowing through the vents onto my damp skin made me shiver. I pulled the covers over me. My life was getting way too complicated. The sinking sensation in my stomach intensified and I punched the pillow. Tugg must have told Tally about my assignment. Why else would he have said such a thing? I pulled the pillow over my head to blot out the brilliant sunlight and lay still listening to the drone of the cooler until I fell into a deep sleep.

The shrill ring of the phone woke me. I fumbled for the receiver and noticed the clock read 11:30. I tried to speak, but no words came out.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

It was Tugg. I cleared my throat noisily. “Sorry about that. I was out all night. Guess I fell asleep.”

“You sound as bad as I feel. Listen, Kendall, I’ve got something important to tell you and…”

“Just a minute,” I interrupted. “I’ve got something to discuss with you first. Why did you do it, Tugg?”

“Do what?”

“Tell Tally,” I said heatedly. “And don’t try to deny it. You told him what we’ve been working on, didn’t you?”

“If you’ll just calm down and listen—”

“You promised me two weeks! I’ve turned cartwheels to keep this thing under wraps. This is supposed to be my story. What if he lets something slip to Roy? You know the two of them sometimes work together.”

“Kendall,” he shouted, “be quiet and listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore if Tally knows, or anybody else knows, because it looks like I’ve been wrong about this whole thing from the start.”

I tensed. “What do you mean?”

“I got a letter in the mail this morning. It’s from John Dexter.”

If Tugg had told me California just dropped into the Pacific Ocean and Arizona now had beachfront property, I couldn’t have been more astonished. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m holding a letter from John Dexter. Talk about being wrong headed. Pretty pathetic stuff coming from an old newspaper man, huh?” he grumbled. “And to think I’ve had you on a wild goose chase all this time.”

“How can you be sure it’s from him?”

The sound of paper crackled in my ear. “I’ll read it to you.” He cleared his throat and began, ‘Dear Tugg—Thought I’d drop you a line to let you know everything is cool with me. Sometimes I feel like shit leaving the way I did with no notice, but, I got an offer I could hardly refuse. I got me the hottest babe down here and her folks have got some kind of bucks! I spend most of my days hanging out at the beach or sailing. Bet you wish you were me. That was a real dead end job for me. Why bust my buns when I can live like a king here? Sorry about our disagreement, but this is best for both of us. Keep smiling!’ “It’s signed, John Dexter.”

Stunned into uncommon silence, it took me a few seconds to find my voice. “Tugg, is this letter typed or hand written?”

“It’s typed.”

“How convenient. What about his signature? Is it typed?”

“No.”

“Well, before we jump the gun, we’d better make sure this letter is authentic. Have you got something at work with his signature on it?

“Yeah, I can check it. But, it sure looks like his.”

“What about the postmark?”

“It’s kind of smeary. But it looks like Cabo San Lucas. It was mailed last week.”

Why did I feel so cold all of a sudden? I sat back, and pulled the covers up around my neck. “I smell a rat. I think someone’s fabricated it to get me off the track. The timing is just too perfect. Don’t you see? Someone thinks I’m getting too close. Don’t tell me you’re going to be fooled by this?”

“It does explain his whole disappearing act. You said yourself his girlfriend knew he was on his way to meet with some other woman. They probably cooked this whole thing up so’s he could get out of his relationship with the first gal, what’s her name?”

“Yolanda Reyes. But, Tugg, what about that phone call two weeks ago? This other woman is still waiting for him. And, what about the ticket to Nogales? Why would he buy only one, and then take his truck?”

“I dunno, Kendall,” came the weary sigh. “All I know is, John was not a happy camper when he worked here. He was pissed at Tally, pissed at Roy, and pissed at me for killing his article. You had to know John for this to all make sense. He had a real flair for the dramatic. I think his letter is pretty clear. He saw a golden opportunity to latch onto some wealthy dame and grabbed it.”

I sputtered, “But…but…what about his note? What about his phone call that day? If he was planning to leave, why even bother? And what was with all that nonsense about a story that would stand this town on its ear?”

“He was a great one for exaggeration. Most of the time he was full of shit up to his eyeballs and we did have several heated arguments when I asked him to lay off of Roy until he could prove his allegations. The way I’m reading this is he couldn’t come up with anything concrete any more than you have, so instead of sticking around and looking like a jackass, he took the coward’s way out.”

My skin no longer felt cold, but my teeth were chattering. I reached under the mattress, pulled out my notebook, and stared at it numbly. It wasn’t difficult to detect the tone of acceptance in Tugg’s voice. If he dropped the whole investigation, it would let him off the hook with Mary, her whining sister, and Roy. My fears that his illness was getting in the way of clear thinking, surfaced again and a sense of defeat enveloped me like a shroud. I could see everything I’d worked on the past two months going down the tubes.

His voice broke into my thoughts. “Jesus, Kendall, I know how you must be feeling, but you can’t feel any more foolish than I do. I’ve had you spinning your wheels looking for something that was never there.” I could hear Mary’s demanding voice in the background urging him to lie down and he muttered, “Yes, yes, in a minute.”

“Listen, Tugg. I’m not ready to throw in the towel yet. I think the first thing we need to do is verify the signature. Can we meet at the office right away?”

“I’d never get past Mary,” he confided, his tone gloomy. “The doc’s got me on another new medication and I’m supposed to take it easy the rest of the weekend. But you can come get the letter. I’ll give you the key to the filing cabinet in my office. You can pull John’s personnel folder and compare the handwriting.”

“Okay, but one more thing before you hang up.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you tell Tally?”

“At the time, I had my reasons.”

“What are they?” I persisted.

“Look, I haven’t mentioned this to anyone at work, but there’s a possibility I may have to have surgery. In good conscience, I don’t feel I can take a chance on checking into the hospital without someone else knowing what you’re working on. Especially after that episode in the darkroom.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you did promise me two weeks, remember? Plus that, what help can Tally be to me when he’s going to be out of town for two weeks?”

“To tell you the truth, I completely forgot about that until yesterday. These drugs make me feel like I’m walking around in a fog all the time.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want Mary to overhear this, but you do realize if the handwriting matches, that…well…we have to tell Roy. And, of course, you’ll get the story.”

My spine stiffened. Writing an article about John Dexter vegging out in Mexico seemed a poor substitute for the dramatic scoop I had in mind. And the idea of telling Roy set my teeth on edge. “Thanks,” I said dryly, and then a thought struck me. “Wait a minute, Tugg. You can’t tell Roy yet even if the signatures do happen to match.”

“Come on, Kendall,” he said, his voice soothing, “I know this has been your baby, but he has to be told. John’s case is still open.”

“I know that. But I have his files, remember?”

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and then, “Oh, shit! That’s right.”

“You’ll have to give me a few days to figure out how to get them back. That is, unless you just want to march in there and confess what we’ve been up to the past two months.”

He laughed nervously. “Ah…no. I don’t think so. How are you going manage that without him knowing?”

“Actually, I haven’t had time to formulate a plan yet. But, I will. Let’s say Wednesday or Thursday at the latest, okay?”

“All right. I guess a few more days won’t make that much difference after all this time.”

“No, it won’t. And speaking of time, why do you suppose Dexter waited so long to write to you?”

“Who knows? And to think—all this time we’ve been building up a case against Roy and that Phillips woman based solely on John’s disappearing act,” he replied, a note of wonderment entering his voice. “Funny how things that looked suspicious at first don’t anymore.”

“I’ll be over to get the letter and key in half an hour,” I said, hanging up.

Damn! It would sound irrational to anyone else, but I didn’t want the signatures to match. Deep down inside, I was still convinced that Roy and Claudia were involved in something sinister. She seemed devious enough to cook up a fake letter.

I set the answering machine and hadn’t gotten two steps from the phone before it rang. I let the machine do its job while I grabbed my purse and car keys. “Sugar pie! Y’all there?”

Ginger’s voice filled the room, demanding to know why I hadn’t called her back. The flash of guilt made me hesitate. Knowing Ginger, she’d try to pry every last detail from me. No. I’d call her later.

Outside, the searing desert wind blew my freshly brushed hair into a tangled mop. I jammed on sunglasses, and prayed the thunderheads building over the mountains would finally produce the rain I so desperately craved.

The furious pace of events during the last twenty-four hours, coupled with a lack of sleep, left me feeling muddled. I was conscious of the fact that this was probably not the time to be introspective, but, throughout the drive to town, I tried to focus on my feelings for Eric. While his attentions were pleasurable, and I was more than flattered by his kind offer, Tally’s kiss had fired intense feelings I hadn’t felt for a long time—if ever.

At Tugg’s house, I dodged rolling tumbleweeds and flinched at the sting of sand on my face. Mary answered the door and handed me an envelope. I thanked her, expressed my concern for Tugg and hurried to the car. I read the letter over twice and studied the postmark on the crumpled envelope. It looked awfully convincing.

Filled with anxious anticipation, I drove downtown to the newspaper. The building seemed unnaturally quiet with only Harry at work in the production room.

“Man,” he said to me with a shake of his head, “you sure missed one hell of a party last night. I thought you were coming?”

It felt like the letter was burning a hole in my hand, so I made up a quick excuse and then slipped into Tugg’s office.

I spread the paper flat on his desk and pulled John Dexter’s employment application from the file. My hands were sweaty and the headache throbbed at my temples again. “Please don’t let it be true,” I whispered, positioning the papers side by side.

After a careful comparison of the two signatures, I groaned aloud. Acute disappointment formed a bitter taste in my mouth. Unless this was an excellent forgery, he was indeed alive and well, and living in Mexico.