Bounty Hunter Ransom Page 2

  “Aubrey.” Lyle treated her to a warm smile. “When I heard your name, I volunteered—” His gaze flickered to Beau, then fixed on him. “Maddox? Might have known I’d find you in the thick of trouble.”

  Aubrey recall that the two men hadn’t liked each other, but the specifics eluded her.

  “When did you make detective?” Beau asked mildly, not rising to the bait.

  Lyle puffed up a bit. “Around the first of the year.”

  “Yeah? Whose ass did you have to lick to get the promotion?”

  Lyle’s eyes narrowed. “I could make your life miserable, you know.”

  Aubrey cleared her throat. “This isn’t helping.”

  Lyle returned his attention to her, looking contrite. “Sorry. What the hell happened here?”

  So she told her story again, adding little bits as she remembered them, and the patrolman added his two cents before taking off.

  “Listen, Lyle, I’m really worried about my cousin Patti. You remember her, right?” She tensed, waiting for a negative reaction. But Lyle remained ultraprofessional.

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “I was in a meeting when she called me on my cell phone sounding terribly upset. And when I got here, she and the baby were gone, and some guy was in my house.”

  “But you say her car wasn’t here when you arrived home?” Lyle asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Maybe she knew bad news was on the way and she cleared out ahead of it. She’s, um, been in a bit of trouble in the past.”

  Aubrey glanced at Beau, who was still here just to drive her crazy, she was sure. She pleaded with her eyes for him to keep quiet. “Patti has kept her nose clean for over a year, ever since she found out she was pregnant.”

  “Is it possible someone from her past has come back to bother her?” Lyle asked, jotting a few notes.

  “I suppose. Oh, wait, maybe that’s it! There’s Charlie Soffit, Sara’s father. He’s a low-life biker. He kicked her out when Patti told him she was pregnant, but then he keeps coming around to harass her. But he’s never been violent. I think…well, Patti’s father is rich.”

  “I know who Patti’s father is,” Lyle said, which wasn’t surprising. Wayne Clarendon was one of Payton’s most prominent citizens, a descendant of the town’s founder.

  “I think Charlie wants a piece of that,” Aubrey continued, “and he thinks he can get it by using Sara.”

  “Does he have any visitation rights?” Beau asked.

  Lyle shot him a nasty look. “This isn’t your investigation, Maddox.”

  Beau shrugged, unperturbed. “Someone has to ask the right questions.”

  “Patti got him to sign away parental rights,” Aubrey answered, hoping to distract the two snarling dogs from each other. “But maybe he wishes he hadn’t done that.”

  “Sounds like a suspect to me,” Beau said.

  Aubrey pointed toward Beau’s Mustang. “Leave!”

  Beau held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, fine. Can’t blame a guy for showing a little concern for an old friend.”

  “Make no mistake, that is not what I blame you for.”

  It suddenly got very quiet, and Aubrey wished she’d kept her mouth shut. But the words were out now. The ones she hadn’t spoken were especially loud. I blame you for shooting my brother.

  Beau’s gaze narrowed. “I saved Gavin’s life. But you’ll never understand that because you don’t want to. You’d rather hold on to that tunnel vision that lets you believe your precious brother could do no wrong.”

  Beau turned and stomped off the porch and out to his car. He backed up the Mustang, then drove through her yard as the patrolman had, nearly crashing into the crime scene van as it pulled up.

  “You’re not really friends with him anymore, are you?” Lyle asked.

  She shook her head. “We’ve hardly talked since he left the force. I don’t even know what brought him here today, unless it was morbid curiosity.” She mentally shook herself. She had more important things to worry about than the lingering animosity between her and Beau Maddox. “So you’ll check out Charlie Soffit?”

  “Yeah. It’s possible he’s involved.” Lyle flipped his notebook closed and stuck it in his back pocket. “It could be any number of things, including a random crime. Maybe we’ll find some usable prints in the house, or the stolen merchandise will turn up. I’ll need you to make a list of everything that’s missing.”

  “I don’t care about that stuff. It’s Patti I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll issue a Be-On-the-Lookout for her car. If you don’t hear from her in a day or two, we can start getting worried.”

  Aubrey didn’t like that answer. In fact, she thought Lyle was a little cavalier about the whole thing. But he probably saw burglaries and assaults day in and day out. And people were always getting worried for nothing when their loved ones went missing, then turned up unharmed. She’d heard enough cop talk over the years to know that.

  In this case, however, she was entitled to worry.

  Beau could find Patti and Sara in a heartbeat. Aubrey might not approve of his methods as a bounty hunter, but it was hard to argue with his results. But his services didn’t come cheap, and since assistant chemistry professors didn’t make a ton of money, she didn’t know how she would pay him. Still, she filed the idea away for further scrutiny.

  One of the evidence technicians came out onto the porch. “We’re finished downstairs, if you want to come inside where it’s cool,” he said to Aubrey.

  She was grateful he’d been kind enough to think of her, but her gratitude ended abruptly when she saw the condition of her living room. Fine black fingerprint powder coated everything.

  Lyle followed her inside. “I know a cleaning service that’s pretty good at straightening up after our guys trash a place. I’ll write it down for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  The phone rang. Aubrey didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but she couldn’t just let it ring. She went to the kitchen and picked up the wall phone, getting black powder on her hand. “Hello?”

  “Aubrey. Oh, my God, are you okay?”

  “Patti!”

  Lyle looked up sharply.

  “Where are you?” Aubrey demanded, relief warring with irritation. As usual, Patti had managed to create some drama. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m okay. I got out before—”

  “Well, I didn’t! Someone broke into the house and attacked me. You knew, and you just let me walk right into it!” The tears Aubrey had been holding at bay came on full force.

  “Are you hurt?” Patti asked in a small voice.

  “Not seriously.” Aubrey swallowed, getting the tears under control. “Why did you call me home if—”

  “I don’t understand. He was after me, not you. Why would he hurt you?”

  “Who? Damn it, Patti, who are we talking about?”

  “You’ll just get mad if I tell you.”

  “I’m already mad. He could have killed me. Is it Charlie?”

  Patti hesitated. “I’ll tell you all about it later, okay? I just didn’t want you to worry about me. I might not come home for a couple of days. Oh, damn, my batteries are going.”

  “Patti, don’t hang up. Tell me who! I won’t get mad, I promise,” Aubrey tried in a last-ditch effort to get Patti to talk. But the connection went dead.

  Lyle was listening intently. “Did she say?”

  “No.” Aubrey hung up. “But at least I know she’s safe for now, anyway. But this wasn’t just a random crime. Patti said someone was after her.”

  “Sounds like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Aubrey swallowed down her irritation with Lyle. She waited until the cops left, then unearthed her phone book so she could look up the number for First Strike Bounty Hunters, a gesture which turned out to be wholly unnecessary. Beau was at her front door.

  She let him in. “How did you know I was trying to call you?
”

  His eyebrows rose as he entered her filthy living room. “You were calling me?”

  “I want you to find Patti and Sara for me. You could probably do it in your sleep.”

  He looked around her house, his attentive gaze missing nothing, but he didn’t reply right away to her request. “They sure did a number on your house. The cops, I mean.”

  “They were just doing their job. Now, how about if you do your job? Will you take the case or not? I think Patti’s in trouble. She called, but she sounded really strange and she wouldn’t tell me—”

  “She called?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. She said she was safe, but—”

  “Aubrey, I’m sure she’s fine. You know Patti. She’s a drama queen. Whatever’s going on with her, she’s blowing it out of proportion and creating a mystery so you’ll worry.”

  “Maybe,” Aubrey said grudgingly. “But she’s changed a lot since Sara came along. She’s more responsible, more considerate. She even has a job at an insurance company. Couldn’t you try to find her? There’s an innocent baby involved.”

  “If she hasn’t turned up by tomorrow, let me know.”

  Aubrey narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I get it. There’s no huge bounty on Patti’s head, so it’s not worth your time.”

  “It’s not that—”

  “Of course it is. Big payoffs are all that motivate you anymore. And since I don’t have anything to offer you—” She broke off when she saw the appraising look in Beau’s eyes.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said in a lazy drawl. “I think you might have something I want.”

  Aubrey felt the air rush out of her lungs in a swoosh as her every hair follicle wiggled with awareness. He’d never shown the slightest interest in her before. But the way he was looking at her now, practically…what was that old cliché? Undressing her with his eyes?

  She felt a little thrill at the idea that he might want her, but quickly squelched it. The very idea was hideous—trading sex for his professional services.

  The corner of his mouth twitched up in what passed for a smile with Beau. “Not that. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  She shook herself. What was she thinking? “What, then?” The question came out a breathy whisper.

  “I want you to put the past behind us. Admit that maybe you don’t understand what happened between me and Gavin, and give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “It’s hard to misinterpret a bullet in the leg.”

  “It could have been through his heart. He was pointing a weapon at me first.”

  “So you say. Forget it, Beau. I can’t forgive you for what you did to Gavin. Not now, not ever.”

  “Then I guess there’s nothing more to talk about. I stopped to see if you were really okay, but it appears you are. So I’m out of here.”

  As he sauntered away, Aubrey had to bite her lip to keep from calling him back.

  Chapter Two

  Aubrey couldn’t wait to take a shower, to get the intruder’s feel and smell off of her, to wash the blood out of her hair—and to wash that insane exchange with Beau out of her system. She carefully locked her doors, checked that the windows were secure, then headed for the upstairs bathroom.

  A few minutes later, feeling much better, Aubrey decided to tackle the mess the police had made. She could have called the cleaning service Lyle recommended, but the idea of letting more strangers into her house bothered her. This cozy frame house, once her grandmother’s, had always been her haven, her cocoon, in which she could shut out the rest of the world and focus for hours at a time on an obscure chemical equation, or grade papers, or read nineteenth-century chemistry texts, her favorite hobby.

  Now she preferred to set things right herself, restoring each object to its correct place, buffing the old mahogany coffee table to a mirrorlike shine.

  When she moved into the dining room, which had been converted to her home office, she immediately spotted something odd. A fat white envelope sat in the exact middle of her desk with her name on it. It was in Patti’s writing. How had she not noticed it before?

  The envelope wasn’t sealed, and Aubrey opened it and withdrew the contents. The moment she read the first words on the first page, her breath caught in her throat. It was Patti’s last will and testament, drawn up by her father’s law firm and dated only a week previous.

  That in itself was weird. Patti had been estranged from her wealthy father for many years. Why had she suddenly felt she needed to go to him for a will? The implications were ominous.

  Aubrey scanned the document. Patti had apparently left everything to her daughter. That made sense. But she’d also made provisions for Aubrey to be named as Sara’s guardian. The gesture brought Aubrey to tears, especially given the uncharitable thoughts she’d had about Patti in the last few hours.

  “Patti, girl, you better not need this,” Aubrey murmured as she tucked the will into her file cabinet.

  The phone rang, startling her. She fumbled with the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Do you have the money yet?” The voice was rough and low, and the words sent a chill wiggling up Aubrey’s spine.

  “Who are you trying to reach?” Aubrey demanded, though she was pretty sure she knew. Callers often mistook her voice for Patti’s.

  “Patti, Patti, Patti. After all that’s been between us, you’re not pretending you don’t know me, are you?” the caller cooed, his voice taking on a whispery, singsong quality.

  “This isn’t Patti,” Aubrey insisted. “She’s not here. Who is this?” She checked her caller ID. The number had been blocked.

  A long silence followed. Aubrey thought at first the caller had hung up. But then his creepy voice assaulted her again. “Whoever you are, chicky, you tell little Patti something for me. Tell her I’m coming for her. I want my money now. She knows what’ll happen if I don’t get it.”

  The line went dead.

  Aubrey hung up and immediately dialed the police again, asking for Lyle. She was soon patched through to his cell phone. He listened attentively.

  “Did he make any threats?”

  “Not explicitly, but dire consequences were certainly implied.”

  “We can’t really do anything unless this guy makes a move.”

  “What? He already made a move!” Aubrey paced back and forth in front of her desk. “Or did you forget so quickly that I was assaulted?”

  “We don’t know it’s the same person.”

  “Of course it’s the same person,” Aubrey said impatiently. “Can’t you put a trace on the call? Something?”

  “Sure, we can check it out. But he’s probably calling from a cell phone. Meanwhile, is there anywhere else you could stay for a few days?”

  Aubrey hated the idea of abandoning her home to the Fates. But she reluctantly agreed she could stay with friends for a couple of days, until Patti came home and this mess got straightened out. She could have her home phone calls forwarded to her cell, in case Patti tried to call again.

  “Try not to worry too much,” Lyle said, his voice soothing. “These things have a way of blowing over. These bad guys, they don’t want to work too hard. So if you make things the least bit challenging for them, they move on to greener pastures pretty quick.”

  Aubrey was only slightly reassured by Lyle’s words. Sure, he’d been a cop for a few years, and he probably knew what he was talking about. But he wasn’t the one who still had a headache from her last brush with this particular bad guy.

  As she packed up a few things, and a load of books to keep her occupied—she wasn’t teaching at all this summer—she considered which of her friends she would impose on. Or she could drive down and stay with her parents, who had retired to South Padre Island on the Texas coast. But she didn’t want to put anyone else in the line of fire. And she wanted to stay close. She wouldn’t rest easy until she saw Patti and cuddled Sara in her arms.

  A motel was the answer. She would stay at her favorite little hole in the wall, the Golden Sand
s, where she’d hidden out when she wrote both her master’s thesis and her doctoral dissertation. She’d had a little problem meeting deadlines back then, and her solution was to push it as far as she could, then check into the motel and write eighteen hours a day until the thing was done, ordering out Chinese food or pizza for every meal.

  The motel was only a couple of blocks from campus, near a busy intersection. She requested a room facing Eighth Street, the main drag, where her door would be very visible to anyone passing by. This might even be kind of fun, she thought as she slid her credit card to the multipierced young woman at the front desk. She could turn the air-conditioning up, swim in the tacky little pool out back, watch trashy movies or noodle around with equations.

  Maybe if she distracted herself enough, she wouldn’t worry so much about Patti and Sara.

  With her maroon duffel bag in one hand and her key in the other, Aubrey coaxed the lock and opened the door. The room was stuffy, but she’d soon remedy that. She switched on the light, turned toward the window unit, then froze.

  There was a man sitting on her bed.

  She inhaled to scream until it registered that the man was Beau. He lounged against the pillows as if he had a perfect right to be there.

  “What—how—what—”

  “You’re usually a bit more articulate, Aubrey.”

  Instead of trying to push one of the dozen questions she had for him out of her mouth, she folded her arms and stared until the silence became uncomfortable.

  “I drove past your house again and saw you throw a duffel in the back of your Jeep,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll admit it, I was curious. Were you spooked? Had you found out where Patti was? I was worried, so I followed you here. If you’re trying to keep yourself safe, you’re not doing a very good job. Any kid with a credit card could break into these rooms.”

  “How did you know which room I would be in?”

  “I was standing right behind you at the front desk. You never even knew I was there, so I thought I would teach you a lesson.”

  “You’ve made your point,” she said, dropping her duffel and sinking into the room’s only chair. She should be furious at his high-handedness—except he was right.