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“Do you remember any of your time…before you were rescued?”
“I have vague memories of fear and panic, that terrible fear of being trapped and unable to escape. It’s not clear. Nothing is clear except the feelings. They’ve never left me. If I could remember anything helpful, Sam, I’d tell you. God knows, I’d like to know that the man responsible is locked away behind bars. He needs to pay for all the horror he inflicted on the other women he abducted. The ones who didn’t escape. If it hadn’t been for Kaiser…”
“Kaiser?”
“Kaiser was Gus’s sire. Somehow he managed to track me. I remember hearing him bark, and I screamed and screamed. And I can remember suddenly seeing the sky. Then nothing until later in my hospital room. Gabe and Mother were there. Big blocks of time are gone. The doctors say it’s not uncommon and that I may never remember.”
“Did you see a therapist afterward?”
“For years. Two different ones.”
“Did you ever try hypnosis?”
Skye nodded. “Early on. It didn’t help.”
“Would you be willing to try again now?”
She hesitated and swallowed down the bile building in her throat. “I would need to think about it. It’s not that I don’t want to be helpful. It’s simply that I became extremely agitated during the hypnosis and I had terrible nightmares afterward.”
“I’m certainly no expert in the area, but I understand that we can secure one of the best in the state who has helped in numerous cases.”
“But any information that I might give you while under hypnosis isn’t admissible in court, is it?”
Sam frowned. “I’m not sure about that. But I do know that right now we have absolutely no leads at all. Any information you could give us would be better than what we have now. Maybe we could build a case without your testimony. Let me ask you something. Do you remember anybody hanging around your apartment before that morning? This guy had to have been watching you.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.”
Sam asked her several other questions, and she answered as best she could, but mostly she was a blank. Her head began to pound. She hadn’t had a migraine in a while, but she could feel one coming on.
“Sam, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I can talk about it anymore. I’m getting a splitting headache.”
He closed his notebook and turned off the recorder. “I understand. I’ll leave now. Maybe we can get together this weekend.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any more to tell you.”
“I wasn’t talking about the case. I meant maybe we could go out or something.”
That should have pleased her, but the pain in her head took all her attention. “Call me,” she said, and fled to her bedroom for medication.
SAM TALKED WITH GABE for a while about Skye’s kidnapping, but he didn’t have anything to add that wasn’t in the reports he’d read. Except recounting the horror of it.
“Was Skye able to tell you anything helpful?” Gabe asked.
“Not really. She was nervous as a cat, and just talking about it gave her a bad headache.”
“A migraine. Damn. It’ll lay her low for several hours. She hasn’t had one in a while.”
“Man, I’m sorry about that. But I had to talk to her.”
Gabe shrugged. “I’m not blaming you for doing your job.”
After Sam left, he headed downtown to see Belle’s office. He’d been promising her that he’d drop by sometime. Wimberley was a pretty little town full of old rednecks, an artsy crowd plus a new influx of retirees and folks attracted to the charm of a small town and the bucks to be made with the booming tourist trade.
He followed Ranch Road 12 toward the square, passing over the bridge where Cypress Creek had smoothed the limestone boulders along its bumpy path. Not that he could see anything square about the square. There was a crooked Y in the road and a couple of streets off to one side with a bunch of shops and restaurants painted different colors. His mother would call the town picturesque.
He found the Wimberley Star office down one of the side streets and parked out front. Belle liked it here. Mostly he figured that Belle liked it here because Gabe was here.
Gabe was a good guy.
And Skye…
Skye was spectacular. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. Sam wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to do it, but somehow, some way, he was going to track down the bastard who had screwed up her life and put him behind bars.
Chapter Five
On Friday morning, Skye was just finishing up a surgery when Napoleon said, “You have a phone call on line two. That Ranger man. You want to call him back?”
“No, I’ll take it. I’m done here. Would you put Buster back in his cage?”
Napoleon nodded and gently lifted the cat while she stripped off her gloves and picked up the phone.
“Hi, Sam. This is Skye.”
“Hope I didn’t get you at a bad time.”
“No. I have a minute, but I have to tell you that I haven’t made a decision yet.”
“I’m not pressuring you,” Sam said. “And the call isn’t business. It’s personal. Belle was telling me that she and Gabe often go dancing at a place called Fancy’s on Friday nights. I was wondering if you might like to go tonight. With me. And with Gabe and Belle.”
“Oh, Sam, I don’t know. It might be fun, but I haven’t been dancing since—Well, I haven’t been in a long time. I doubt if I remember how to two-step. I don’t go out much.”
“Well, darlin’, it’s time you started. And I’m a two-steppin’ terror. It’ll all come back to you. I’ll be there about seven. Maybe we can grab a bite somewhere. Listen, I gotta run. See you tonight.”
He hung up before she could protest further. She couldn’t go out dancing. There would be a mob of people there. Just the thought of going out into such a setting was enough to make her break out in hives. It had taken her months to be comfortable going to church surrounded by her whole family and sitting in the balcony with Gus and two bodyguards. She could handle lunch with Gabe and Gus at a small, familiar café, and she’d come a long way in going to yoga class with Belle and Gus, but dancing at Fancy’s? A zoo would be calm and quiet compared to that place on Friday night. No way. She’d have to call him back and cancel.
But she didn’t know where to call, and she got busy. The next thing she knew it was noon.
Everybody usually congregated at the house for lunch, even Napoleon, who could eat more than any three men, and there was always a big spread, plenty for drop-ins. Belle had picked up Flora from the Firefly, an art gallery that displayed her soul paintings, and joined them for the meal.
When Skye was about halfway through her salad, her mother said, “I’m definitely buying the Firefly. Mason and I are signing the papers this afternoon, and I’m taking over on Monday.”
“Fantastic!” Belle said.
“Mom,” Gabe said, “are you sure that’s not too much for you? Running an art gallery is demanding.”
“Oh, fiddle, there’s nothing demanding about it. Mostly I just sit there and paint until someone wanders in. I’m hiring Grace Winslet to work part time, including some weekends, and her daughter is going to help out, too. She’s a junior over at Texas State and needs a job. Misty, her name is. Very responsible girl.”
Skye said, “Mom, I think you should do what makes you happy.”
“This makes me very happy. I love being downtown in the thick of things, and I really enjoy people coming in just to watch me paint. It’s good company. I’m not cut out for painting in a lonely garret.”
“I’m excited for you,” Skye said. “It sounds like a wonderful new venture, Mom. And by the way, Belle,” she added, trying for a casual tone. “Sam called this morning. He asked me to go dancing tonight at Fancy’s.”
Everybody stopped eating. Except Napoleon.
Belle’s eyebrows went up. “Did he now? And what did you say?”
“He didn’t really give me time to say anything before he hung up. But I don’t see how I can go.”
“Sounds like a fine idea to me,” Suki said as she passed the potatoes to Napoleon.
“Oh, Skye,” Flora said, “I think it would be great fun for you. And a wonderful experience. Why, Belle and Gabe will be there. And Sam certainly can protect you with that gun he wears on his belt.”
“And I’ll take my gun if you want,” Belle said. “Not that there’s any need of it. I’m sure you know almost everybody there.”
“I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Skye,” her brother said. “Don’t let anybody pressure you into something that you’re not ready for.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “We’re not talking about going into a war zone in a foreign country. It’s downtown Wimberley, for gosh sakes. What are you going to wear, Skye?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. Do you think the place will mind if I bring Gus?”
“I’m sure they won’t,” Flora said. “Gabe, why don’t you call to be sure? And for good measure, perhaps a couple of the guards could be there, too.”
Gabe hesitated for a moment. “Skye, if you’d like to try it, I’ll make the arrangements.”
Inside, her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a handful of marbles, but she fought to contain her nervousness and managed a smile. “Maybe I could try it for an hour.”
Gabe nodded. “I’ll take care of things.”
WHEN SAM OPENED THE DOOR to his place, Pookie met him, dancing around his feet and yapping until he picked her up. “How’s it going, girl? You keep the burglars out?”
She wiggled and licked his face.
“Not on the mouth, Pookie. Not on the mouth.” He held her away, then put her down, but she wasn’t deterred. Excited, she circled his feet as he made his way to his bedroom, where he dumped a handful of junk mail into the trash.
The light was flashing on his answering machine. He hoped it wasn’t Skye canceling their date tonight.
It wasn’t Skye’s voice he heard on the playback. It was Gabe’s. And from all the arrangements he’d made, you’d think they were preparing for a presidential visit instead of going dancing at a local honky-tonk.
“And you’ve been invited,” Sam said to the dog. “Want to go play with Tiger tonight?”
Pookie barked. She seemed to be ready and willing.
Sam took a quick shower, put on his dancing duds and pinned his star on his shirt. He clipped his gun on his belt and scooped up the dog. “Let’s boogie.”
SKYE CHANGED CLOTHES four times. And her hair wouldn’t do anything right, even though the short cut had always suited her fine. She could step out of the shower, towel it dry, finger comb it and be ready to go. Wouldn’t you know that her mop had picked that evening to act up? It looked as if she’d stuck her finger in the proverbial light socket—except the left side, which was flattened to her head.
She’d finally settled on a pink patterned tee with a sprinkle of sequins that her mother had given her for her birthday last year and a comfortable pair of jeans and boots. But her hair! How could she go anywhere looking the way she did?
There was a tap on her door. “Skye?” her mother said. “Are you dressed? Sam’s here.”
She flung open the door. “I can’t go. My hair is a mess. Just look at it.”
“Calm down, dear. I think your hair looks cute, except for right here.” She patted the left side. “Do you have any gel?”
“Heavens, no.”
“I’ll be right back.” Her mother hustled out, stopping long enough to shout downstairs, “We’ll be down in a minute.”
Skye felt so foolish—like a teenager on her first date. The idea of going out into a mob of strangers was nerve-racking enough. Add the fluster of trying to dress for the evening, and her anxiety level was off the chart. Why had she ever agreed to such a thing?
That was easy. Sam Outlaw. The thought of him made her toes tingle.
She could do this. She could.
Her mother returned with a basket of stuff. “I thought you went after some gel.”
“I did,” Flora said. “Sit down here.”
Skye sat down at the desk in her sitting room, and her mother squirted and sprayed gunk on her hair and picked and poked at it.
“Finished?” Skye asked.
“Not quite. Wait a minute until that dries. It looks really cute.”
“Let me see.” Skye started to rise, but Flora put a hand on her shoulder.
“Be patient for a moment, dear. Close your eyes.”
She felt a brush across her lids. “What are you doing? That’s not eye shadow, is it? I don’t wear eye shadow.” She felt another brush across her cheeks. “Or blush. I don’t want to look like a clown.”
“It’s just a touch, dear. Close your eyes again, please. And don’t wiggle so.”
“Is that mascara? Good Lord, I’ll look like a raccoon.”
Flora tittered. “No you won’t. Open your mouth just a tad. And don’t get upset, it’s only pink lip gloss. There. Now you can look.”
Skye hurried to the bathroom mirror, expecting to see something akin to a hooker, but she was shocked. Her hair looked kind of spikey and not too bad, and the makeup was subtle and very flattering. When she rejoined Flora, she bent and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
Flora beamed. “You’re welcome, dear. You look lovely. Here, slip this in your pocket.” She held out a tube of lip gloss.
The final stamp of approval came when she went downstairs and into the den, where Sam had joined Gabe for a drink.
He stood and a smile spread over his face as he looked at her. “Wow,” he said.
Her stomach settled, and a warm glow stole over her. Wow, indeed. It was Sam who was wow material. He wore a starched white shirt with the cuffs rolled back and low-slung jeans that emphasized his long waist and slim hips. His shoulders seemed enormous. With his star pinned to his shirt and his gun clipped to his belt, he looked every inch the tough Texas Ranger. Until he smiled in that infectious way he had.
“Ready to go boot-scootin’?” he asked, sidling toward her with a playful shake of his hips.
