Wyoming Bold

CHAPTER TEN

MERISSA DREW BACK from him with a faint gasp. “What?” she stammered.

He ground his teeth together. She looked so shocked that he was embarrassed, and suddenly his confidence about her feelings for him took a nosedive. The set of rings in his pocket was burning a hole in the material of his coat now. “I didn’t mean to say that,” he lied. “I’m sorry. I got in over my head a little too quickly.”

“It’s...all right,” she said, moving away from him, back to her own seat. She fastened her seat belt for something to do. “No harm.” She tried to smile. For an instant she’d thought he meant it, and her heart sailed up into the sky. Now he was busy backtracking.

“I’m really sorry...”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize,” she assured him urgently. “I know men sometimes say things they don’t mean when they, well, you know.” She flushed. He seemed really regretful about what he’d said. She only wanted to ease the embarrassment. “I’m not ready to get married, anyway,” she lied. “So it’s fine. Really.”

He didn’t look reassured. In fact, he looked puzzled and then almost offended. He put his own seat belt back on, put the truck in gear and drove up to her porch.

He cut off the engine. “I’ll walk you inside,” he said quietly. “I want to make sure Carson’s here.”

“Okay.”

They moved into the house in silence, not touching, not speaking. Merissa was concerned. He must be terribly embarrassed to have blurted out such a compromising proposal. He had been vague about the future, but he’d never said anything about marriage. She was crazy about him, and he seemed to have feelings for her. But it was one thing to feel passion for someone, quite another to consider spending the rest of your life with her. She wanted Tank to be sure. And she wanted a proposal that came when he wasn’t out of his mind with desire.

So she didn’t say anything about their former conversation.

“I’m home,” Merissa called.

Clara came out of the kitchen. “So I see. Hello, Dalton,” she greeted with a smile.

He nodded, but he didn’t smile. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” he told the women. “I’ll check back tomorrow. Have a good night.”

He left without even looking at Merissa.

“What happened?” Clara asked worriedly.

Merissa drew in a breath. “I’m not sure. And I can’t talk about it right now,” she added gently. “I’m sorry.”

Clara hugged her. “Have a nice cup of hot chocolate while I peel potatoes for supper. Carson’s outside working on some project of his. He won’t tell me what it is.”

“Is he near the house?” Merissa asked, curious.

“Not really,” her mother said. “He was going to start putting up surveillance devices at the boundaries of the property. Why?”

“I just wondered.” She had an uneasy feeling, but she didn’t want to put it into words. She drew in a long breath and rubbed her temple.

“Not another headache?” her mother asked worriedly.

“No,” she said. “Well, not yet, anyway.”

“You do know where you left your prescription medicine?”

“Of course,” Merissa said, and smiled wanly. “It’s in my bedside table, where I always keep it.” She cocked her head. “You think I’ll get one, don’t you?”

Her mother was noncommittal. “You look worried and Dalton looked, I don’t know, upset.”

Merissa averted her eyes. “We had a little...misunderstanding.”

Clara patted her shoulder affectionately. “It’s early days yet,” she said gently. “You don’t really know each other. Time will take care of that.”

Merissa shrugged. “I hope so.”

“Things are usually a little rocky at first. But he’s very fond of you. He doesn’t make any secret of it.”

Merissa nodded. She glanced at her mother. Clara had made her a cup of hot chocolate. She put it in front of her at the table. She poured potatoes into a big bowl, got a knife and sat down to peel them.

“It takes time for people to grow together and trust one another,” she told Merissa. “He’s been alone for a long time.”

“He’s very rich,” Merissa said through her teeth.

“And you think he’ll consider you a gold digger—is that a proper modern word?” Clara laughed. “You’re the least mercenary person I’ve ever known.”

“Still, it’s a very different lifestyle than ours.”

“He’s a rancher. He loves animals. He loves the land. He’s like us. So are his brothers and their wives.”

Merissa made a face. She sipped the hot chocolate and sighed with pure contentment. “Nobody makes this like you do.”

“Thank you, dear.” She was quiet.

“You’re thinking about my father, aren’t you?” she asked.

Clara nodded. “I loved him once,” she said. “It was a horrible way to die, a horrible thing to do, to bring him back here and sacrifice him.” She lifted her eyes to her daughter’s. “He was evil. But even a dog shouldn’t die like that.”

“I know.” Merissa stared into the hot chocolate. “That man should die like that. The one who sent my father back here, who’s trying to kill Dalton.”

Clara’s knife was still. “You should never wish such things on anyone,” she said in her soft voice.

“I know,” Merissa replied. “It’s unnecessary. I’ve seen his death. It’s...more horrible than you could even imagine.” She shivered.

“Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”

“I hear that some fabulously wealthy man is putting together a manned mission to Mars and he wants volunteers,” Merissa said with a grin. “All I need is a spacesuit...”

“You can’t go.”

“Why not?”

Clara laughed. “You have a very nice future ahead of you, right here in Wyoming. And no, I won’t tell you what it is.”

Merissa grimaced. “Well, it doesn’t contain Dalton, I’m sure of that. He almost left a trail of fire behind him getting out of the driveway.”

Clara didn’t say a word. She just smiled.

IT WAS ALMOST inevitable; the migraine. It came on an hour or two after Merissa’s odd conversation with Tank.

She was sitting in the living room with her mother, watching the news, when she began to feel the effects.

She rubbed her temple with obvious pain. It was like a knife in her right eye. When she opened it again, her field of vision in that eye looked like the static on a television station that was temporarily off the air.

“Oh, dear,” she said, feeling nausea rise.

“You’d better take something while you still can,” Clara said worriedly.

“I’ll do it right now.”

She went quickly to her room, picked up the bottle that contained the capsules that she took for her headaches. She should have noticed that they weren’t in the drawer where she’d put them. They were sitting on the table under the lamp. But she was hurting too badly to pay attention.

She shook one capsule out into her hand and popped it into her mouth, swallowing some water to get it down. The prescription was for two, but she hoped she’d taken it early enough to prevent the headache from developing.

While she sipped water from the plastic bottle on the same table as the pills, she glanced at the window curiously. The blinds were askew. She straightened them before she moved back to the bed and slid down onto it. Clara brought her a wet washcloth and put it over her eyes. “Just lie still, honey,” she told the younger woman. “It will pass soon. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’ll...be fine. I just took one capsule. Maybe it will be enough. Turn off the light and close the curtains, will you?” she whispered.

“At once.”

She did, and tiptoed out, closing the door behind her.

THE PHONE RANG at the Kirk ranch. Mallory picked it up. “Hello?”

There was a hysterical barrage of words from Clara. As he listened, Mallory’s face grew quickly somber.

“Yes, I’ll tell him. Is Carson with you?”

He listened and nodded. “Did you call the EMTs? Okay. Fine. Yes, we’ll be right there. Try not to worry.”

“What’s up?” the others asked, almost in unison.

“Merissa’s in the hospital. Apparently she took a capsule for a migraine headache and had a violent reaction to it. We’re going to pick Clara up on the way to the hospital.”

Before he could even get the words out, Tank was headed out the back door.

Mallory called Darby on his cell phone. “You drive him, I don’t care what he says,” he told the foreman after he’d given him the bare bones of the conversation. “He’ll kill himself trying to get there alone. Don’t worry about Clara, we’ll pick her up and take her to the hospital with us.” There was a pause. “She said Carson was setting up some sort of devices out on the property. She hasn’t seen him in a while. We’ll worry about that later. Drive Tank to the hospital. Hurry!”

He hung up and looked at his family. “He’ll head him off and drive him to town,” he assured them.

“We should go, too,” Cane replied.

“Yes. You stay here with the baby,” Mallory told Morie, “and you should stay, too,” he added, smiling at Bolinda. “I know, but it’s really bad outside and you’re delicate. Morie can’t leave the baby and she needs someone with her,” he lied.

Morie grinned. “Yes, she does.”

“Okay, then, but give Merissa my love,” Bodie agreed finally.

Cane gave Mallory a grateful look.

“Mine, too,” Morie told her husband.

He nodded, kissed her gently and left Cane to say a brief, affectionate goodbye to his own wife. Then they drove over to pick up Clara and rushed to the hospital.

TANK WAS PACING the waiting room.

“How is she?” Mallory asked as he and Clara and Cane moved to Tank’s side.

“Bad,” Tank said unsteadily. “They won’t tell me anything because I’m not a relative,” he added angrily.

“It’s all right,” Clara said. She’d been crying, but suddenly she was more positive. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“You sent those capsules she was taking with the EMTs, didn’t you?” Mallory asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I did. The first thing I thought was that it was an allergic reaction. She only took one, so maybe it isn’t too bad. I made sure they took the bottle along with her. I’ll see if I can find out anything.” She went to the emergency room desk.

“They were doing tests, they told me,” Tank said to his brothers. “Tests! They won’t let me see her,” he groaned.

“Take it easy,” Cane said gently. “Just breathe. We’ll know something soon. Okay?”

Tank calmed down. He nodded.

Mallory put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “First rule of medicine is ‘do no harm,’” he reminded him. “If they treat her in the dark they could kill her. If you weren’t so upset, you’d know that.”

Tank looked up at him with the fear in his eyes that she wouldn’t recover, that they wouldn’t be in time...

The doctor, a small, dark-haired woman in a lab coat with a musical accent came to where they were standing in the waiting room, with a relieved Clara at her side. “It’s all right. We know how to treat her now,” she said, smiling. “The interesting thing is that, after we ran the toxicology screen on the capsules and a blood sample, we couldn’t understand how she would ingest such a substance in a headache remedy. There was no trace of it on her mouth, her clothing...”

“What was it?” Tank asked.

“I could give you the technical name, but you probably know it as Malathion. It’s used...”

“As a pesticide,” Tank said for her. “Yes, we use it on the ranch. It’s considered one of the safer methods...”

“The capsules were tampered with,” she interrupted gently. “Someone substituted the Malathion for the prescription medicine. It was a very professional sort of job, although there was not enough in the one capsule her mother said she ingested to kill her, but there was enough to make her very sick. All the remaining capsules in the bottle were similarly replaced with the pesticide, with a very pure form of it. I’ve telephoned the authorities. It is my professional opinion that she was deliberately poisoned.”

“Good God!” Tank burst out, agonized. His face tautened. “Will she live?”

“I think so,” she said cautiously. “We’ll keep her on cardiovascular support, administer antidotes, keep her sedated. You need to contact law enforcement, as well,” she added. “This was an ugly business. For someone to do such a thing to a young woman...it’s monstrous.”

“Yes, it is,” Tank agreed. “Can I see her?” he asked. “Please?”

“And me?” Clara pleaded.

The doctor was kind, but firm. “I would love to be able to do that, but we must work to save her life. If she had ingested more, or there had been a long delay in getting her to the hospital, she would certainly be dead.”

“When can we see her?” Tank persisted.

“Come back in a few hours. We’ll see,” she promised. “Meanwhile, try not to worry. I think the prognosis will be good, since she was seen so quickly.”

“Okay, then.” He managed a smile. “Thanks.”

She smiled back. “We’ll take good care of her.”

TANK DIDN’T WANT to leave. He wanted to sit with her, comfort her, hold on to her. When he thought of the deliberate poisoning, the underhanded, low-down manner of it, he wanted to kill the man who had him targeted.

“We have to find this perp,” Tank told his brothers on the way to Clara’s house. “We have to find him now, before he kills her! Why her?” he added in anguish. “Why not just kill me?”

“He seems to be into torture,” Cane said quietly. “He’s playing with you. If he’d put enough Malathion in those capsules, she’d be dead already. He just wanted to make her sick, to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” Tank said through his teeth.

They didn’t comment. Mallory, who was driving, pulled up at the cabin. All three got out, along with Clara, who was sitting in the cramped second seat.

“Cody isn’t here yet,” Mallory noted, looking around, referring to the sheriff. “I called him before we left the hospital.”

“Can we see her room?” Tank asked.

“Of course...”

“No,” Mallory said, stopping him. “It’s a crime scene now. Let Cody’s investigator get to work.”

“Crime scene,” Tank said numbly.

“Attempted murder,” Mallory replied tersely. “If we can catch him now, he’ll go away for a very long time. We just have to prove it was him.”

Carson came from around the side of the house. “I’ve got cameras on top of cameras...” He stopped, staring uncomprehending at the others. “What’s happened?”

“You didn’t hear the ambulance?” Tank asked, astonished.

Carson scowled. “What ambulance? No, I’ve been all over the property putting up sensors...” He stopped and stared at them. “Oh, my God. Merissa?”

“She’ll be all right, the doctor thinks,” Tank said worriedly. But he looked at Clara and she was nodding and smiling. He relaxed a little.

“I was only gone for thirty minutes,” Carson groaned. “I didn’t realize it would take so long. God, I’m sorry!” he told Clara.

“It’s all right,” she said. “She’s going to be fine.”

“The sheriff’s on his way,” Tank told Carson. “With his investigator. Don’t touch anything.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll go along with the investigator if there’s a trail. I can track an ant.” He moved closer to Tank. “You can slug me, if you like.”

“You were trying to protect them,” Tank said heavily. “I might have done the same thing. At least she didn’t die.”

“What happened to her?” Carson asked, still grim.

“She took what she thought was a prescription medicine for a headache,” Clara said, “but someone had substituted Malathion for the drug in the capsules. It’s a miracle it didn’t kill her. She only took one capsule, thank God.”

“I don’t think that was his purpose at all,” Mallory repeated. “I don’t think he meant to kill her. He’s toying with Tank.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed. “I knew a guy like that once, who worked in spec ops,” he said, frowning curiously. “Eb knew him. He came along for a special job overseas. He was an independent contractor for the government, like us. His specialty was covert assassination, but not with military hardware. He was an expert at disguising poisons as medicine. He was assigned to take out a military strategist, but he did it over a period of days, using different everyday poisons to torment the man before he gave him the final dose. None of us liked the way he worked. He enjoyed killing.”

The brothers looked at each other with sudden inspiration. “What did he look like?” Tank asked.

“Insignificant sort of man,” he replied. “Medium height, nasal drawl. The only thing about him that stood out was his hair. It was a flaming orange color.”

“I can see how that would help him camouflage himself,” Cane said facetiously.

“I always thought he did it to draw attention away from his face,” Carson replied. “His hair was concealed when he went out at night anyway, not much risk of anyone seeing it. He did wet work with knives, as well. He bragged about one job, but when he saw the reaction he was getting from us, he clammed up.” His face hardened. “Anybody who enjoys killing needs help. I did it for ideological reasons, to help save innocents. He did it for fun.”

“This man,” Tank said slowly. “Did he have a nick on one ear?”

Carson blinked. “A what?”

“Did he have a cut on one ear, a scar?”

“I don’t remember. I can’t say I noticed.” He smiled faintly. “I was too occupied with the sight of that flaming mop of hair.”

Tank’s cell phone rang. It was the hospital. In fact, it was the doctor herself, whom he’d given his phone number.

“She is awake,” she told him, “and feeling somewhat better now.”

“I’m on my way,” Tank replied.

“Go,” Mallory said when he hesitated, because they’d come in one ranch vehicle. “Here.” He tossed him the keys. “We’ll get Darby to take us back to the ranch.”

“Okay. Thanks!” He ran for the truck.

“Don’t speed!” Cane called after him. “One tragedy a day is enough!”

“I’ll keep it under a hundred!” Tank called back.

Cane groaned. He’d been in a terrible wreck before he and Bolinda had been married. He took speed very seriously.

“I feel bad that this happened on my watch,” Carson said. “I was careless. I won’t be again.”

“We all slip from time to time,” Mallory assured him.

Two vehicles approached the cabin as Tank drove rapidly away with a wave. It was Sheriff Banks and his investigator.

They greeted the men, asked questions of Clara and started investigating Merissa’s room. It soon became apparent that her window was unlocked and someone had come through it quite recently. There was moisture from melted snow on the sill, and a partial footprint outside the window, among the leaves. A mold was taken of the print.

When the investigator had collected what evidence he could find, and another officer had been sent to the hospital to retrieve the bottle of capsules and enter them into the chain of evidence, Carson and the investigator started backtracking the faint trail through the woods.

Mallory and Cane returned to the ranch to update the wives on what was happening.

AT THE HOSPITAL, Tank sat beside Merissa in the intensive care unit, holding her hand.

“Scared me to death, baby,” he said softly.

She managed a wan smile. “I feel awful.”

“You’re going to be all right,” he said firmly. “Nobody’s coming near you, or touching you again, no matter what I have to do to keep you safe.”

“So sick,” she groaned.

“I’m sure they’re giving you something to make that better.”

“Yes. They said so. How’s Mama?” she asked suddenly. “She was so scared!”

“She’s fine,” he replied. “She came in with us to talk to the doctor.”

“Do you know what happened to me?” she asked.

He turned her hand over and traced the palm. “Someone doctored the capsules you were given for migraine headaches,” he said grimly. “We don’t know how yet, but we’re pretty sure who did it.”

She drew in a shaky breath and fought down the nausea. “Wow. I only took one capsule,” she whispered. “I remember Mama asked me when the ambulance came. I went out like a light pretty soon after that.”

His hand tightened on hers. “Thank God you didn’t take more.”

“What did he put in it?”

“Malathion,” he muttered. “It’s dangerous. Very dangerous. We have to use precautions when we put it out on the ranch. Once we had a guy covered with it. We had to have him decontaminated and we had to call the EMTs. That was an accident. What happened to you wasn’t. The sheriff’s investigator will probably want to talk to you, too.”

“I’ll tell him anything I can.” She looked up at Tank. “I remember that the blinds in my room were sort of crooked. I didn’t think anything about it... I just straightened them before I lay down. My head was throbbing. Oh, and the pills weren’t in my drawer. Why didn’t I say something? I never leave them sitting out...and there was an odd odor to them, but I thought it was the headache making me smell things.”

“Your head was hurting.” He smiled gently. “You gave us a real scare.”

She smiled. “Sorry.”

His expression became grim. “We have to get this guy, before he does something worse.”

“I totally agree. Unfortunately I won’t be able to help you run him down and hog-tie him,” she teased. “The way my doctor talks, I’m going to be here for several days.”

“You’ll be safe here.”

“Yes.” She sighed. “But tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” she moaned. “Mama will be all alone.”

“Don’t worry about Clara,” he added before she could speak. “We’ve got people watching her.”

“Okay.”

“Carson offered to let me punch him,” he then told her. “He felt bad that he was out of sight and sound when it happened.”

“He was trying to keep us safe,” she said. “Don’t be mad at him.”

He frowned. “Don’t tell me he’s working that magic on you, too?”

“Excuse me?”

He averted his eyes. He hadn’t thought of Carson as a rival. Now, remembering the man’s way with women, he was stunned. Merissa had been almost his until Carson came back with him. Now, she was backing away. Because of Carson?

He glanced at her. “You and Carson, you’ve been talking, haven’t you?”

She nodded. “He isn’t what he seems,” she said softly. She smiled. “He’s had a very hard life.”

“He told you about it?”

“Yes. He isn’t the sort of man who tells anybody private things, I think. But he told me a lot. I felt really bad for him.”

“I see.”

“So don’t blame him,” she said softly. “I know he feels terrible, like he let me down. But it could have happened anytime. This man seems to know very well how to get to people,” she added quietly. “He’s like a snake. He can get in anywhere, without being noticed.”

“We’ll find him.”

She turned her head on the pillow. “You have to be very careful,” she said. “If you have medicines that you take, check them.”

“I’m way ahead of you there,” he assured her. “But there’s no way anyone could get into my house without being noticed.”

“Don’t assume that,” she said. “It’s what we assumed, too. And here I am.”

He grimaced. “You could have died.”

“Yes. But he miscalculated,” she said. “That will hurt his confidence. It will make him pause and rethink his methods. It will give you an opportunity to find out who he is.” She squeezed his hand. “Dalton, he’s done this before. Not exactly like this, but he’s killed someone. Someone important. That’s your key. That’s what you have to look for...” She swallowed, hard. She let go of his hand. “Sorry. I’m so...sleepy.”

“It’s all right. You rest. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He smiled, when he’d never felt less like smiling. “Hey, what are friends for?” he asked her softly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Something flashed there, something odd. But she only smiled back and said, “That’s right.” Then she closed her eyes again.

HE LEFT HER. His mind was working overtime. He wanted to throw Carson through a wall. The man was the devil himself. He remembered Carson charming the beautiful flight attendant, all smooth talk and smiles. It hadn’t mattered about that woman, who was a stranger. But this was Merissa. And Merissa was his.

If only he hadn’t botched it when he’d blurted out that proposal. He’d even had the rings in his pocket. He was going to press them into her hand and ask her right then. That wasn’t really how he’d meant to do it. He wanted to do the whole courtship thing. Send her flowers, buy her presents; take her on moonlight rides. But he’d lost it when he had her so warm and soft in his arms.

She loved kissing him, he could tell that. But she was backing away and just when he wanted to get closer, much closer.

So was it Carson pulling them apart? Was he a rival? And if he was, how could Dalton, who was no rounder, compete with him? The thought tormented him.

“WHAT DO YOU know about Carson?” he asked Rourke later, when they were going over new safety precautions for the ranch.

Rourke lifted both eyebrows. “Not a lot. Why?”

“He told Merissa things.”

“Oh?” Rourke’s one brown eye was twinkling. “What sort of things?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” he muttered. He ran a hand through his thick hair. “He’s one smooth operator. He turns on the charm and women fall at his feet.”

“Well, yes, they do. But he’s a one-nighter, if that helps.”

“What do you mean?” Tank asked.

“I mean, he doesn’t date the same woman twice. He has no staying power. In fact, if you want my honest opinion,” he added, “he hates women.”

Tank gave him a disbelieving look.

“No, I’m not joking,” Rourke continued. He finished connecting two wires on a monitor. “He even said something about it once, to the effect that women are no damned good. He said they’ll crawl to a man who treats them like dirt, but turn their backs on one who’d die for them.”

“The reverse of that is often true,” Tank commented.

“I know.”

“I’ve seen him in action, too,” Rourke added. “I can’t say I wasn’t a bit envious. Never had that sort of luck with the ladies.”

“And that’s not what I’ve heard about you,” Tank mused.

Rourke shrugged. “I’m like Carson. I like variety.”

Tank pursed his lips. “I believe you helped Carson feed a man to a crocodile over a woman...?”

Rourke’s face hardened like steel. He averted his eye and didn’t say another word.

“Sorry,” Tank said.

Rourke didn’t look at him. “There are things I never discuss. Tat’s one of them.” He turned his head, and his one good eye was blazing. “K.C. Kantor’s another.”

Tank held up both hands. “I didn’t say a word.”

Rourke shrugged. “Sorry.” He tuned the device he was working on. “I used to have a higher boiling point.”

“We all have weaknesses.” Tank leaned back. “Mine’s lying in a hospital bed, mooning over your damned womanizing comrade.”

Rourke’s eyebrows almost blended into the blond hair at his forehead. “She’s what?”