Green Fire (22 page)

"Maybe he won't be able to figure out which way we've gone. This rain will make it hard to track us," Rani pointed out.

"We're going to have to assume he's a professional."

"A professional what?" she gasped. "Killer?"

"If he's not a professional, he'll be desperate. Either way, he'll be coming after us. He must realize by now that I'm not armed." Flint finished his work with the shirt and led Rani deeper into the woods. They crouched down in a small dip in the ground that was ringed by trees. Rani felt wet needles sticking unpleasantly into her bare skin. The small bra offered no protection from the elements or the terrain.

"Now what?" Rani asked again. She seemed to be asking that a lot today.

"Now we wait."

It occurred to Rani that the guy with the rifle wasn't the only professional in the vicinity. She cast a quick, curious glance at Flint's hard profile. He knew what he was doing and that was a frightening thought in and of itself.

"How long do we wait?" she asked quietly.

"Hush, Rani. Not another word." He pulled away from her, signaling her to stay put.

She watched as he slithered across the wet needles, realizing he was doubling back to the far side of the meadow. Holding herself very still, Rani tried to ignore the coldness of the rain and the way the green stone on her hand seemed to mock her.

The silence stretched out with unmerciful tension, broken only by the ceaseless drumming of the rain in the trees. The world seemed composed entirely of green and gray. Dusk was settling slowly, augmented by the weather. Visibility was becoming worse by the minute.

Rani was beginning to wonder if the horrible afternoon would ever end when she heard the crack of the rifle. The sound jolted her. She hugged herself tightly as another shot echoed through the storm.

The second shot was followed by a shout of mingled anger and surprise. Startled, Rani lifted her head and stared through the trees in the direction of the meadow. Two men were on the ground on the far side, twisting in a tangle of arms and legs. She knew at once what had happened.

When the gunman had paused at the edge of the manzanita meadow, he must have caught sight of the coral shirt among the branches. He'd gotten off two shots before Flint had jumped him.

There was an eerie absence of sound from the two men as they flailed savagely on the ground. Frantically Rani dashed forward into the meadow and across it.

She arrived in time to see Flint straddle his opponent and launch a brutal fist straight into Mike Slater's jaw. Slater's eyes rolled back into his head, and his body went very still.

"Don't say it," Flint ordered as Rani followed him out of the trees and back into the driveway of the cottage.

"Say what?" she demanded.

"That he seemed like such a nice man."

"Well, he did. A very pleasant, artistic type. I liked him, Flint."

"With one glaring exception, you've got lousy taste in men."

She grinned in spite of herself. "Who's the glaring exception?"

"Me."

"Oh, of course." She sobered thoughtfully. "Do you think he'll be okay tied up back there with our belts?"

"Are you afraid he'll drown in this rain?"

Rani thought of the unconscious man Flint had left secured in the woods. "I wasn't worried about that. I was just afraid he might get away."

"It would take him hours to work through those belts even if he wakes up in a condition to make the effort. We'll be back with the authorities by then." Flint glanced around the yard. He was carrying Slater's rifle with the same casual expertise he used to drive the Jeep or work in the garden. "I don't see Zipp."

"He probably hightailed it when Slater walked into the house. It might be sometime before he reappears." Rani straightened the soaking wet coral shirt she was wearing. "I'm cold, Flint. You must be freezing, too. Both of us need a shower."

"First I'm going to call the local authorities. There are a hell of a lot of questions that need answering. When Slater wakes up, I want those answers. You can take a shower while I'm on the phone." He shoved open the door and stood aside for her to enter.

Rani frowned up into his lean, lined face. "At least put on some dry clothing. I don't want you catching pneumonia."

A faint smile flared briefly in his green gaze. "Yes ma'am. Right after I call the sheriff's office "

She sighed and started down the hall. Flint could be as stubborn as Zipp at times. She was going to have to work at finding a suitable way of managing him. Currently her methods were too unreliable. Sometimes they worked and sometimes they didn't.

Rani rounded the corner of the bedroom and nearly collided with Charles Dewhurst.

He was clearly as rattled by the near collision as she was, but Dewhurst had a distinct advantage. He was holding a small pistol in one hand.

"Don't move!" he hissed in a sharp whisper, pointing the weapon at her as if it were a magic wand. "Don't move an inch."

Rani froze, her eyes going from the gun to Dewhurst's nervous but fiercely determined expression. "Mr. Dew-hurst, I don't understand," she managed weakly. "What are you doing here?"

"Take a wild guess," he snapped. "Turn around and walk ahead of me down the hall."

"I'm getting sick and tired of guns being pointed in my direction."

"Shut up!" He prodded her with his gun as she reluctantly turned and started back down the hall to the living room.

There was no sound from the other room. Flint obviously hadn't had a chance to dial the sheriff's number yet. Even as she watched, he appeared silently at the far end of the hall, the rifle in his hand. She said nothing as Dewhurst prodded Rani again.

"I want the ring, of course," Dewhurst said tightly. He reached out and wrapped an arm around Rani's neck, pulling her back against him.

"Sure," Flint agreed quietly. "It was you all along, wasn't it? You're the mysterious man on the trail of the Clayborne ring. Did you hire Slater to do the dirty work back East as well as here?"

"He was a fool. I thought he knew what he was doing. But he failed both times. Oh, he managed to kill Ambrose, all right, but he didn't get the ring. The whole point was to get the ring. But Ambrose had already taken care to see that it was safe. I was so close and he beat me again. For years Ambrose and I have chased the Clayborne ring. When I learned he had finally gotten his hands on it, I couldn't believe it. He didn't deserve it. He had no right to it. He made his living
copying stones
, for God's sake. He made fakes.
Paste
. When he held the real thing in his hands his only interest was in duplicating it and selling the original. The man had no ability to appreciate true gems. What right did he have to something like the Clayborne ring? He wasn't worthy of that beautiful stone with all its history."

"After the screwup back East you had to bide your time, didn't you?" Flint murmured.

"It was a long wait, but it was worth it when I convinced Ambrose's heir to bring the collection to me to be valued. She thought I was merely doing her a favor! I saw at once that Ambrose hadn't had time or inclination to copy the ring. Once I knew where it was again I could take my time planning a way to get it. Put down that rifle or I'll kill her, Cottrell. Go on, put it down."

Slowly Flint lowered the rifle, his eyes never leaving Dewhurst. "When Slater told you I was on the scene you couldn't figure out what was going on, could you? So you played a wild card and tried telling Rani someone was after the ring. You hoped she'd get scared and assume it was me."

"It would have been a logical assumption. As far as we could figure out, she didn't know much about you. After all, you're just a handyman."

"Yeah, I'm supposed to be that, all right."

Rani broke into the tense conversation. "Why did you tell me the ring was a fake, Dewhurst?"

"So you wouldn't panic and put it somewhere I couldn't get at it."

"Somewhere like a safe-deposit box?" she asked.

"Exactly. And you believed me. It was so easy. It was obvious you had no eye for the real thing. No appreciation for true beauty. You don't deserve the ring any more than Ambrose did. But I needed time to work out a way of getting it without drawing attention to myself. I thought at first the easiest thing to do was have Slater simply steal if from you. You'd never know who'd taken it, and since you assumed it was a fake you wouldn't get too concerned. But

Slater said he was just setting up the situation, just getting close to you, when
he
showed up." Dewhurst indicated Flint with an aggressive movement of his chin.

"So Slater suggested staging a hunting accident," Flint concluded.

"That was Mike shooting at me that day in the woods?" Rani was suddenly intensely angry.

"That incompetent couldn't even handle a simple hunting accident," Dewhurst raged. "When he blew that, I decided I'd better come up here and take charge. We've been biding our time, Slater and I. Waiting for an opportunity. Slater was supposed to take care of this end of things but, as usual, he obviously failed. Luckily I was prepared for that contingency."

Rani could hear the older man's breath coming too quickly in his chest. The arm around her neck was rigid with tension. She guessed he'd never been faced with dealing out real violence himself. It was a different proposition from that of hiring a professional such as Slater.

"Back up, Cottrell. Slowly. Back into the living room. Stay where I can keep an eye on you." Dewhurst hustled Rani ahead of him, still locking her close with his arm.

"It won't work, Dewhurst." Flint spoke calmly, as if discussing whether to plant roses or azaleas. "Slater has made too much of a mess of things. Your best bet is to get out of here. If I were you, I'd leave the country."

"There won't be any need for me to leave the country," Dewhurst said dangerously. "And I'm not going anywhere without the ring. I've searched for it too long. Take it off, Rani. Put it down on the table."

"I get the feeling you're going to kill us anyway, so why should I cooperate?"

"Damn you, you little bitch! Take off that ring. It's mine!"

Dewhurst tightened his hold around Rani's throat, shaking her in an excess of tension and fury. Rani staggered in his grasp. Dewhurst struggled to regain his balance. Out of the corner of her eye, Rani caught a flash of movement down around her feet. There was a startling screech that could only have come from an enraged cat, and Dewhurst jerked backward in instinctive reaction. He had stepped on Zipp's tail. Zipp dashed back into the kitchen where he'd been hiding.

Rani didn't hesitate. She could feel her captor struggling to rebalance himself. It was the only chance she was going to get. She swung her hand upward, palm out, and slashed the huge ring across the side of Dewhurst's face. The man yelled, twisting his head to avoid the painful swipe; Rani shoved at him and they both lost their balance.

The gun in Dewhurst's hand roared in Rani's ear, temporarily deafening her. She felt herself falling and then she was free of her tormentor's hold as Flint moved with lethal grace to end the chaotic scene.

Rani looked up at Flint from her position on the floor. He was pinning Charles Dewhurst's arms. Rani assayed a shaky smile that held her bubbling relief. "You're very useful around the house, Flint."

It seemed hours before the mess was cleared up to a reasonable extent. The authorities responded quickly enough, but it took time to go through the paperwork and to explain the bizarre situation. Rani and Flint did learn in the process that the man who had called himself Mike Slater was also known as Lawrence Carmichael and was wanted under that name in several states.

Rani and Flint had a late snack, which they shared with a disgruntled Zipp and they fell into bed. There was no passionate lovemaking that night. Both of them were asleep almost instantly. It wasn't until Rani stretched languidly awake in Flint's arms the next morning that she suspected something was wrong. He was wide awake, as usual, waiting quietly for her to open her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked softly, sensing a different sort of stillness in him that morning. She touched him lightly, aware of a tension within herself.