Texas Hunt (6 page)

Two chairs sat opposite the cherrywood desk in Arthur's office. Ryan helped her to the nearest one. He bent down so only she could hear him and said, “You say the word and we're outta here.”

She nodded slightly.

He took a seat next to her, and then turned so that he was facing her more than Arthur, bent forward and clasped his hands together. The older man seemed unfazed and she imagined he'd seen stranger things. She glanced backward toward the door, not liking that she didn't have a clear view.

There was a small table between her and Ryan with a few brochures promoting add-on services like all-maple caskets and the use of their on-site chapel for viewing along with a tissue box.

Arthur clasped his hands, mimicking Ryan's gesture, and placed them on top of the solid desk.

“How may I assist you today?” he asked, his voice calm and soothing.

“My father wanted to be cremated.” Those six words threatened to unleash a torrent of tears.

Arthur nodded, gave another compassionate look. As genuine as he seemed, he'd probably done this thousands of times over the course of his career. He'd seen an equal number of grieving families bury someone they loved.

Lisa opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by a noise that sounded from behind. Ryan turned at the same time she did, watching the hallway.

“It's probably nothing. Fred, our groundskeeper, is still here working,” Arthur dismissed the interruption, focusing on Lisa again.

“Stay right here.” Ryan was already on his feet by the time they heard a second noise.

Lisa didn't want to wait. Besides, the thought of Ryan going out there to investigate alone didn't do good things to her blood pressure. Her father was dead. She'd been in the hospital. Any number of things could happen to Ryan. And the thought of bad news happening in threes was fresh in her mind.

She pushed herself up and followed him. He must not have noticed because he said nothing to stop her. And if he'd known, he would've stopped to help her. He was locked on to something.

Only a few steps behind him, she still didn't get a good look at what had caused the noise. The front door was closing, though.

Someone had been in there.

“Fred?” Ryan called out as he bolted through the front door.

She couldn't get there fast enough to catch him. By the time she made it across the room with Arthur's help, Ryan had returned.

“You expecting anyone else?” Ryan asked the older man.

“No. We get kids running through shouting inappropriate things sometimes for laughs.” This was the first time the old man broke form. Disgust was in his eyes.

“Don't they normally say or do anything?” Ryan's gaze moved from Arthur to his SUV. He must be remembering what had just happened to his tires at the hospital.

“Yes. But you never know what's going on in the mind of a teenager.” Arthur shrugged, his compassionate demeanor returned.

Ryan turned to Lisa. She tried to command her body to stop trembling.

“You want to do this by phone?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Arthur. This isn't a good idea for her right now,” Ryan said firmly, leaving no room for doubt that they were about to walk out the door.

“I understand. Call when you're ready to talk.” Arthur produced a card from his pocket.

Lisa thanked him and walked to the SUV with Ryan's help.

Once they were inside and he took the driver's seat, she said, “I've had a bad feeling the whole time we've been here.”

He turned over the ignition. The engine hummed to life.

“That's because we were being watched.”

Chapter Six

“I need to ask this straight out, Lisa. Did an ex-boyfriend do this to you?” Ryan knew he might make her retreat by being straightforward like that, but he needed to know.

“No.”

“Are you being honest with me?” Again, he had to ask. It was the only thing that made sense to him, given everything he'd witnessed so far, and especially the way she'd watched the door at the hospital as though she was expecting someone to come in. Expecting wasn't the right word. It was more like fearing.

“I've never lied to you, Ryan.” She sounded hurt.

Maybe he should've trusted his initial judgment and left it alone. This was a no-win situation. She wasn't giving him anything else to go on.

“Then tell me what's going on with you. Who hurt you? I know it's not random.” He pulled the SUV onto the county road, checking the mirrors in case anyone followed them.

“I'm afraid to tell you. I don't want to make everything worse. I just need a few days to heal and figure this out.”

“Figure what out?” he parroted.

“Can't we just leave it at that?”

“No. Not when you could get hurt again. Not when I can't protect you. Not when some unknown threat can pop up at any time.”

“It's not a boyfriend, but it is something from my past. I can assure you that I'm the only one he wants,” she said quietly.

“Tell me his name.” Ryan kept his gaze focused on the road ahead, waiting for her to give him a name.

Neither spoke for the rest of the ride.

As soon as they got to his house, Lisa asked if he minded if she went to bed early.

“Eat first.” He grilled a simple meal of beef kabobs with pineapple chunks and slices of green bell peppers for her while she was in the shower.

The plate he'd fixed for her was clear in a few minutes.

“That was delicious,” she said with the first half smile since the ordeal at the funeral home. “At least let me help with the dishes.”

“No. I got this.” He waved her away. No way was he letting her help in her current condition. Besides, he liked cooking for her and taking care of her more than he wanted to admit, even if she was making it difficult by withholding information.

“I kicked you out of your bedroom. I haven't lifted a finger since I got here. The least you can let me do is earn my keep in the kitchen.” Her voice rose at the end, angry.

What was that all about? She was injured and he was trying to take care of her.

Lisa started toward the bedroom. He made a move to help her.

“I can do this at least, Ryan,” she said.

Ryan bit back a curse as he watched her struggle on her own.

“This is silly. Why won't you let me help you?” he asked, frustrated.

“Ask yourself the same question, Hunt.”

If Ryan lived to be two hundred and fifty years old, he'd never understand a woman. All he was doing was trying to help Lisa. She was hurt and he was able. End of story. If she could do more for herself, he'd have no problem letting her pitch in to do the dishes or whatever else the heck she wanted to do around his home. Why had she turned it on him?

There was another thing that had been bugging him. She'd made a big deal about putting him out by taking his bed. He didn't mind. Hell, he'd slept in worse places than his comfortable couch. What was she getting crazy about?

Rather than spin out on questions he couldn't answer, he decided to watch a little TV before turning in.

Ryan must've dozed off because he woke to Lisa screaming. Another nightmare? He pushed off his blanket, did a quick head shake to get rid of the fog and jogged toward his bedroom.

A crashing sound. Ryan broke into a full run.

Ryan smacked at the light switch, missed as he darted to her side. The room was completely black.

Lisa was struggling...and someone was on the bed hovering over her.

Ryan dove at the male figure from behind, knocking him off balance and off Lisa.

Both he and the intruder rolled off the bed. Ryan fired off a couple of jabs into the guy's ribs, taking a blow to the chin.

Lisa screamed in what sounded like anger and pain rolled into one.

The attacker was smaller in stature than Ryan, but he was quick.

A knee to Ryan's groin had him cursing and fighting off nausea. He had a decent grip on the jerk, and Ryan had no intention of letting go.

“Call 911,” he shouted to Lisa.

Another knee to the groin, a little higher this time, and Ryan saw stars. He couldn't get a good look at the attacker in the pitch-black. The blow caused him to lose his grip just enough for the guy to push off and get to his feet.

Ryan rolled onto his shoulder and wrapped his arms around the guy's ankles. He prayed like hell that Lisa was calling the sheriff.

Still on the floor, he couldn't see what she was doing and the guy was kicking and squirming. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before he broke free from Ryan's grip. Unless Ryan made a move. It was risky. Give this guy an inch and he could break free and sprint away.

Damn, Ryan's shotgun was in the second bedroom he used as an office. Lot of good it was doing in there.

All Ryan could see was outlines and dark figures.

An object slammed against the guy's head, knocking him back. The guy tried to rebalance by shifting his feet. Ryan tightened his grip, locking the guy's stance. The attacker fell backward.

“Call 911. Now!” Ryan shouted to Lisa.

He climbed on top of the guy, pressing him into the floor with his weight advantage.

Without warning, the muscles in Ryan's body seized up. What the hell? Every muscle suddenly became rigid and he heard a ringing noise in his ears.

Pain shot through him and he couldn't move. He was paralyzed.

The charge stopped after a few seconds and his muscles relaxed, but it felt as if they were vibrating and he still couldn't coordinate movement.

His attacker wriggled free, elbowing Ryan in the process, catching him in the neck. Ryan still couldn't budge.

The guy took off down the hallway.

There were the sounds of a struggle that lasted only a few seconds. Then a door slammed. A dirt bike engine roared to life.

Ryan still couldn't move, couldn't speak. He could only lie on the floor, frustrated and helpless.

Light filled part of the room. Lisa must've flipped on the hallway light. She was next to him a few seconds later.

“What did he do to you?” Concern laced her raspy tone.

At least another full minute passed before Ryan could respond.

“Taser gun.” Those two words took more effort than he imagined. Normal feeling was beginning to return to his extremities. He flexed and released his fingers, wiggled his toes.

Once the recovery process started, it moved quickly. He had full possession of his faculties within minutes.

Ryan pushed himself up to a sitting position. His nightstand had been cleared in the struggle and his alarm clock and lamp tossed onto the floor.

How had the guy gotten past Ryan to get inside in the first place?

His legs were shaky, but he moved to the window in the bedroom, realized it was open and stuck his head outside. He couldn't see anything moving and figured the guy was long gone.

“The deputy should be here any minute,” he said to Lisa.

She pursed her lips.

Wait a second. She didn't call?

“We don't need to get them involved, do we?” she asked. The fear had returned.

“As a matter of fact, we do. I still have no idea who we're dealing with and this is the third incident. I don't know what kind of jerk you got yourself involved with, but I'm bringing in the law this time.” Ryan didn't wait for her to respond. He located his cell and called dispatch.

He checked the front rooms, locked the door and returned to the bedroom when the house was clear.

She just sat on the floor, facing the wall.

He moved to her side and helped her onto the edge of the bed.

“It's not safe anymore,” she said in a monotone, sounding as if she was in a trance.

“Whoever is doing this to you belongs behind bars. We talk to the deputy, bring in the law and they'll lock him up. It's that simple.” He stared at her. The hallway light lit up one side of her face. The other was cast in a shadow. “He's bound to have left some evidence behind. They'll figure out who this is.”

“You're right,” she said.

Finally, he was getting through to her.

“I'll meet you in the living room in a second. I want to get dressed before the deputy gets here,” she said.

“Okay.” He moved into the kitchen and then brewed a fresh pot of coffee. She was starting to see logic. He was making progress. Now he might actually be able to help Lisa. All he'd done so far was provide a refuge.

But how did anyone know she was staying at his place?

His mind snapped back to the incident at the funeral parlor. Someone had been watching. Waiting to see if she showed so they could follow her and find out where she was staying.

Crazed boyfriends, if that was the story here, were known to go to all kinds of lengths to get revenge on their so-called loved ones. He'd read stories about abused women and the fear stamped on Lisa's face certainly fit the description. Her actions did, too.

The thought of anyone hurting her on purpose boiled his blood. A real man didn't raise a fist to a woman. Give Ryan a few minutes alone in a fair fight with the bastard and see what would happen.

What didn't add up was that Lisa didn't seem like the sort of person who would get mixed up with an abuser. Then again, based on the stories he'd come across, there was no type. Domestic abuse covered every race, religion and income bracket.

He'd nearly finished his cup of coffee by the time the deputy knocked on the door.

The intrusion and the fight must've shaken Lisa up pretty badly, because she hadn't emerged from the bedroom yet. If Ryan was being honest, he'd admit that his adrenaline was still pumping. He wished he'd gotten a good look at the guy. All he could give the deputy was a general description.

Ryan opened the door and invited Deputy Barnes to come inside. Barnes had been in Justin's grade and Ryan hoped the officer wouldn't hold Justin's teenage years against the whole family. Barnes was five foot nine, slim and wiry.

“Lisa Moore is also a witness. She's a friend of mine who's staying with me while she recovers from a hospital stay. I'll let her know you're here.” Ryan started toward the hallway. “Coffee's fresh. There's a clean mug on the counter. Help yourself.”

“Thank you,” Barnes said.

Ryan nodded and then moved down the hallway. He didn't want to surprise Lisa, especially if she was in the bathroom, so he stepped heavily and called out to her.

When she didn't respond, his pulse kicked up a notch. No way the attacker could have returned, Ryan reassured himself.

He knocked on the bedroom door.

Nothing.

She could be in the bathroom, running sink water or flushing the commode. Even so, Ryan didn't have a good feeling about this.

“Lisa.” He knocked once more, a little louder this time, before opening the door.

Heat hit him full force as soon as he stepped inside the room. The window had been reopened.

An ominous feeling settled over Ryan. The bathroom door was open and the room was empty.

What had she done?

He raced to the window. The porch light illuminated a small part of the front yard, and that was about all he could see.

There was no sign of movement or Lisa.

Ryan needed to get out there and find her. He darted into the next room, where Deputy Barnes waited.

“My guest isn't here. She might be in trouble.”

“What does that mean exactly?” The deputy, who was standing in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his fist, blinked at Ryan.

For a split second he feared that the attacker had come back and snatched her from right under his nose. But, no, that couldn't be it. She would've screamed. Or fought. In which case, he would've heard something. It had been quiet. He'd been listening for any signs that she might've fallen. She could be so stubborn and insisted on taking care of herself.

Now he had no idea where she could be.