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“Everyone seems to be running late this morning,” he said, and wondered why that was. Because they’d all been given a heads-up? Gus noticed the way both cops were looking at him, scrutinizing him as if he had horns growing out of his head.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” the woman cop said. “Ms. Sheldon has asked us to first see that you remove your belongings from the premises.”
“What?” he demanded. “The bitch is firing me? Has she lost her mind?”
P. Donovan’s eyes went hard and cold at the word bitch. The word had just slipped out. He’d known McKenzie had it in for him, but he’d never dreamed she’d fire him.
“I’m her biggest-earning salesman,” he said as if there had been a mistake made and he hadn’t made it. Neither responded. Instead, he saw the male cop looking around. “What?”
“Are there some boxes in the office you can put your belongings into?” the cop asked.
Hadn’t either of them been listening? “She can’t do this.” Gus heard the hopelessness in his voice. He hated nothing worse than the feeling that came with it. He wanted to break something. Tear the place up. Then find McKenzie Sheldon and punch her in the face.
The male cop had gone into a storage room. He came back with two boxes. “Please take only those items belonging to you personally. We’ll watch so we can tell Ms. Sheldon.”
Gus gritted his teeth. McKenzie didn’t even have the guts to face him. Well, this wasn’t the last she’d see of him. He’d catch her in a dark alley. He started to shovel the top of the desk off into one of the boxes, but the male cop stopped him. T. Bradley, the name tag read.
“Leave any inventory you’ve been working on.”
He grabbed up his coffee mug and threw it into the box. The couple of tablespoons of coffee left in the cup made a dark stain across the bottom. The same way McKenzie’s blood was going to stain the spot where they met up again, he told himself.
His personal belongings barely filled one box. That realization made him sad and even angrier. This business should have been his. When he was a boy, he used to sleep on the floor of the main office when his mother had to work late. This place had been more like home than home during those years when she’d been growing the business.
“Is that everything?” P. Donovan asked.
He didn’t bother to answer as T. Bradley asked for his key to the building.
“Ms. Sheldon has taken out a restraining order against you,” the cop said. “Are you familiar with the way they work?”
He looked at the cop. “Seriously? Do I look like someone who is familiar with restraining orders?”
“You are required to stay away from Ms. Sheldon and this building. If you harass her—”
“I get it,” he snapped, and handed over his key. As he started toward the door, T. Bradley blocked his way.
“We’re going to need you to come down to the police station with us to answer a few more questions.”
“About what?” The receptionist, bloody hell. “Look, I haven’t done anything that any red-blooded American male doesn’t do. I like women.” He realized they were staring at him. “Come on. She liked it or she wouldn’t have led me on.”
“Whom are you referring to?” P. Donovan asked.
He frowned. “Cynthia. The receptionist. She was threatening to call the cops last night, but I didn’t really think she’d do it. Why would you ask me that? Who else called the cops on me?”
“Didn’t she ask you to leave her alone?” the woman cop asked.
He shrugged. “I thought she was just playing hard to get.”
“What about Ms. Sheldon? Did you also think she was just playing hard to get?” T. Bradley asked.
Gus closed his eyes and sighed. So she’d told them about that time she’d caught him in her neighborhood. “There’s no law against sitting in your car on a public street. I didn’t even realize she lived in the area. I was looking at the house down the block, okay?” Not even he could make the lie sound convincing.
“Let’s go,” P. Donovan said and led him out of the building as if he were a criminal. In the small parking lot, he saw his colleagues waiting in their vehicles for the police to take him away.
He wanted to kill McKenzie.
“Please open the trunk of your car, Mr. Thompson,” T. Bradley said as Gus started to put the box in the backseat.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Just please open it,” P. Donovan said.
He thought they probably needed a warrant or something, but he didn’t feel like making things any worse. He cursed under his breath as he moved to the back of the vehicle and, using his key, opened the trunk. It was empty, so he put the box in it. “Satisfied?”
It wasn’t until T. Bradley rode with him to the police station and they had him inside in an interrogation room that they demanded to know where he’d been last night after he’d left the office.
“We know you didn’t go straight home,” P. Donovan said. “Where did you go?”
So much for being Mr. Nice Guy. Through gritted teeth, Gus said, “I want to speak with my attorney. Now.”
Chapter Four
He’d failed.
Failed.
The word knocked around in his mind, hammering at him until he could barely think.
You got too cocky last night, you and your perfect record.
It wasn’t his fault. It was the woman’s. The fool woman’s and that cowboy with the Southern accent who’d rescued her.
That rationale didn’t make him feel any better. He’d had one woman who’d fought back before, he thought, tracing a finger across the scar on his neck. But he hadn’t let her get away and she’d definitely paid for what she’d done to him.
The possibility of not only failure, but getting caught was what made it so exciting. He loved the rush. But he also loved outsmarting everyone and getting away with it. Last night should have gone off without a hitch. The woman was the perfect choice. He’d done everything right. If he hadn’t had to knock her out... Even so, a few more seconds and he would have had her in the trunk. Then it was a short drive to the isolated spot he’d found by the river.
His blood throbbed, running hot through his veins, at the thought of what he would have done to her before he dumped her body in the Gallatin River. He had to kill them for his own protection. If he were ever a suspect, there couldn’t be any eyewitnesses.
Except last night he’d left behind two eyewitnesses—the woman and the cowboy. Had either of them gotten a good look at him or his vehicle? He didn’t know.
A costly mistake. He mentally beat himself for not waiting until he could leave town before grabbing another one. The northwest was like a huge marketplace, every small town had perfect spots for the abduction and the dumping of the bodies. Small-town sheriff’s offices were short on manpower. Women weren’t careful because people felt safe in small towns.
Also, he had the perfect job. He traveled, putting a lot of miles on the road every year with different vehicles at his disposal. He saw a lot of towns, learned their secrets at the cafеs and bars, felt almost at home in the places where he’d taken women.
But last night, after a few weeks unable to travel, he’d been restless. The ache in him had reached a pitch. His need had been too strong. He’d never taken a woman in his hometown. One wouldn’t hurt, he’d thought. No, he hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d taken a terrible chance and look what had happened.
He gingerly touched the side of his head where she’d hit him with whatever canned good had been in her grocery bag. Fortunately, other than being painful, the bruise didn’t show through his thick hair. His shin was only slightly skinned from where she’d nailed him with her high heel and his fingers ached. No real visible signs of what she’d done to him. Not that he didn’t feel it all and hate her for hurting him.
It could have been so much worse. He tried to console himself with that, but it wasn’t working. The woman had made a fool out of him. It didn’t make any difference that he shouldn’t have gone for so long since the last one. But it had begun to wear on him. Otherwise, he would never have taken one this close to home. He would never have taken the chance.
The television flickered. He glanced up as the news came on. This was why he couldn’t let them live, he thought, as he watched the story about a botched abduction at the small, out-of-the-way grocery store the night before. He waited for the newsman to mention the woman’s name and put her on camera to tell of her heroic rescue by the cowboy. He wanted to see the fear in her eyes—but more than anything, he needed her name.
The news station didn’t put her on air. Nor did they give her name or the cowboy’s who’d rescued her.
Furious, he tried several other stations. He’d gotten a good look at her last night after he’d punched her and had her on the ground.
But he foolishly hadn’t bothered to take down her car license number or grab her purse. He hadn’t cared who the woman was. She’d been nobody to him. But now he was desperate to know everything about her. All the others, he’d learned about them after their bodies were found. It had never mattered who they were. They’d already served their purpose. Now it was inconceivable that he didn’t know the name of the only woman who’d ever gotten away.
Without her name, he wouldn’t be able to find her and finish what he’d started.
* * *
STANDING IN THE hospital room half-dressed, McKenzie tried to still her trembling fingers. The morning sun was blinding. Her head still ached, but she’d kept that from the doctor. After the police had left, he’d made her spend the night in the hospital for observation. Today, though, she had to get back to work. It was the only thing that could keep her mind off what had happened. Worse, what could have happened if someone hadn’t stopped the man.
“Let me,” her sister said and stepped to her to button the blouse.
She stood still, letting her big sister dress her—just as she had as a child. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have called but I needed a change of clothing before I could leave the hospital.”
Shawna shook her head. She was the oldest of nine and had practically raised them all since her mother had been deathly ill with each pregnancy, especially with her last baby—McKenzie.
“Mac, I would expect you to call because I’m your sister and, after what you’ve been through, you need your family.”
She didn’t like needing anyone, especially her big sister. “I didn’t want to be any trouble.”
Her sister laughed. “You have always been like this.” She straightened McKenzie’s collar. “You’ve never wanted to be any trouble. So independent. And stubborn. There. You look fine.”
She didn’t feel fine. From an early age, just as her sister had said, she had been fiercely independent, determined to a fault, wanting to do everything herself and driven to succeed at whatever she did. She was still that way. Nothing had changed—and yet, after last night, everything felt as if it had.
It was as if the earth was no longer solid under her feet. She felt off-balance, unsure—worse, afraid.
“Are you sure you’re ready to leave the hospital?” Shawna asked, studying her.
“The doctor says my head will hurt for a while, but that I should be fine. I need to get to the office and reassure everyone. I had to fire one of my employees today.” She swallowed, her sore throat again reminding her of the man’s arm around her neck. Had it been Gus Thompson? The thought made her blood run cold. “I’m sure everyone is upset.”
“You can’t worry about them right now. You need to think about yourself. Just go home and rest. I can stop by your office—”
“No, this is something I need to do myself.” She saw her sister’s disappointment. Shawna lived to serve. “But thank you so much for bringing me a change of clothes.”
“What do you want me to do with the clothes you were wearing?” she asked, picking up the bag. Her pretty new suit was blood-splattered from the now bandaged head wound. So was the blouse she’d been wearing.
“Throw them away. I don’t want them.”
She felt her older sister’s gaze on her. “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the suit or the blouse. Once I get them clean... It seems a shame—”
“Then drop them off at Goodwill.”
Her sister nodded. “Are the police giving you protection?”
“They really can’t do that. Anyway, there’s no need. If it was someone I know, then they don’t believe he’ll try anything again with them involved. And if it was random...then the man could be miles from here by now.”
Shawna didn’t look any more convinced than McKenzie felt. “I guess they know best.”
“I’m going to stay in Big Sky tonight. I have a client I need to see up there this afternoon so I’ll spend the night and come back tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to go home with you to your condo and wait while you pack?”
She thought of her empty condo. “No. That’s not necessary.” But even as she said it, she was already dreading facing it alone. “I know you need to get back to your job.” She stepped to her sister and hugged her. Shawna had never married. But she kept busy with three jobs as if needing to fill every hour of her day doing for others.
“You’ve done enough,” McKenzie said. Her big sister had always been there for her from as far back as she could remember. It made her feel guilty because she felt her sister had been robbed of her childhood. Shawna had been too busy raising their mother’s babies.
“If you need anything...”
“I know.” Sometimes she felt as if Shawna had made a life in Montana so she could watch over her. All the other siblings had left, stretching far and wide around the world. Only she and Shawna had stayed in the Gallatin Valley after their parents had passed.
But her big sister couldn’t always protect her. Before last night, McKenzie would have said she could protect herself. Last night had proved how wrong she was about that.
* * *
GUS THOMPSON WOULD never forget the humiliation he’d been put through at the police department. “Don’t you know who I am?” he’d finally demanded.
They had looked at him blankly.
“My photo is all over town on real-estate signs. I am number one in this valley. I sell more property than any of the hundreds of agents out there. I’m somebody and I don’t have to put up with this ridiculous questioning.”
“You still haven’t told us where you were last night.” The woman cop was starting to really tick him off.
He looked to his attorney, who leaned toward him and whispered that he should just tell them since it would be better than their finding out later. “I went for a drive. I do that sometimes to relax.”
“Did you happen to drive by the River Street Market?”
“I don’t remember. I was just driving.”
“We searched your car... Actually, the car that is still registered to your mother, and we found a gas receipt.” The woman cop again. “You were within a quarter mile of the grocery last night only forty-two minutes before the incident involving Ms. Sheldon.”
“So what?” he snapped. “Aren’t you required to tell me what I’m being accused of? Someone steal McKenzie’s groceries?”
“Someone attacked and attempted to abduct Ms. Sheldon.”
“Trust me. The guy would have brought her back quick enough.” Neither cop smiled, let alone laughed. He raked a hand through his hair. “Why would I try something like that in a grocery-store parking lot when I could have abducted McKenzie Sheldon any night right at the office?”
His attorney groaned and the two cops exchanged a look.
“Come on,” Gus said. “I didn’t do anything to her. I swear.” But he sure wanted to now. Wasn’t it enough that she’d fired him? Apparently not. She wanted to destroy him. Something like this could hang over his head for years—unless they caught the guy who really attacked her. What was the chance of that happening? Next to none when they weren’t even out looking for him.
He pointed this out to the cops. “Get out there and find this guy. It’s the only way I can prove to you that I’m innocent.”
They both looked at him as if they suspected he was far from innocent. But they finally let him go.
Once outside the police station, Gus realized he didn’t know what he was going to do now. Of course, another Realtor would hire him. The top salesman in Gallatin Valley? Who wouldn’t?
