The Rancher's Return. Karen Whiddon
It’s about time for me to run out there and check on things. I can stay out there a little while. And I’ve got a four-wheel drive pickup that makes the trip perfectly.”
After snatching his keys off the counter, he grabbed his laptop and motioned for her to go ahead. Instead, she stood frozen, staring at him.
“But what about this?” she sputtered, gesturing at his house. “I don’t want to take you away from your life here in Anniversary. What about your job?”
“My job can be anywhere I want it to be, as long as I have this.” He held up the laptop. “Now let’s get a move on. Especially since you seem to think Alex or one of his people could show up at any moment.”
Still she didn’t move. “What about clothes? Food? Medicines? Shouldn’t you pack?”
“I have everything I need at the ranch. I go out there all the time. Come on.” And he opened the front door and stepped aside so she could pass.
They parked the Jag at the marina. Reed hoped doing so might make anyone in pursuit think maybe Kaitlyn had gone somewhere out on the lake in a boat. This would buy them a bit more time.
Reed watched as Kaitlyn climbed out of the sports car, her long legs glistening in the sun. After removing an overnight bag from the backseat, she strode to the edge of the water, and then tossed the keys in. She then walked over and got into his truck, her expression relieved.
“That felt good,” she said. “Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”
He moved to adjust her visor and she flinched. More proof, though she probably didn’t realize it, of what she’d endured. “Easy,” he said. “I’m not going to touch you.”
Nodding, she gripped the door handle with one hand as he put the truck in gear and they pulled away.
“I’m a bit on edge,” she told him unnecessarily. “So please don’t mind if I ask you how you can be sure we won’t be followed.”
“I’ll answer as honestly as I can. I can’t, at least not until we leave the cities and the highways behind. It’s a lot easier to tell on a two-lane road. We’ll be skirting around Dallas on 635 and then picking up 820 to go around Fort Worth. It’s a bit of a drive, so you might as well settle in and try and get comfortable.”
Though she nodded, he could tell she still felt antsy. That was all right, he didn’t blame her. In a way, she’d just gotten out of prison. He remembered how that had felt. For a while, everything in the outside world had seemed surreal.
They were crossing through Irving, former home of the Dallas Cowboys, when she faced him. “Why are you helping me?” she asked. “I’m assuming it’s because you’re going to try to figure out a way to get Alex arrested for his crime.”
“Crimes,” he corrected. “Plural. And yes, you are a witness and therefore extremely dangerous to him. So I’ve got to keep you safe while I get the feds working on this.”
“Feds?” She sounded horrified. “You can’t... You don’t understand. Alex has people working for him everywhere.”
“In law enforcement? Even in the FBI?”
She nodded. “Yes. He’s not just involved in drugs. He’s got his finger in a lot of other things.”
“Weird. According to the media, Alex Ramirez is a blasted saint. Every news story about him talks about his good works and generous charitable contributions.”
“It’s all a front. He uses a lot of the charitable organizations to launder money. You wouldn’t believe all the illegal operations Alex is involved with.”
“And because you know all this, you’re even more dangerous to him.”
“Yes. There’s no way he’s going to allow me to live. We have to be careful about who we approach. Alex has boasted many times about having the FBI and the DEA on his payroll, even people in the governor’s office and the Senate. There’s no way to know who to trust.”
Reed cursed. “If you’re telling the truth, this sounds like the mafia or a cartel. Organized crime.”
“In a way, it is. Whatever you want to call it, it’s dangerous. Getting in his way—protecting me—would be risky. In fact, I’d call it a death sentence. Especially if he thinks you know anything, which he will. Before you decide to help me, I want to make sure you understand.”
“I get that.” He flashed a grim smile, still not one hundred percent convinced. “I’ve already given up three years of my life and lost my brother. Damned if I’m letting him get away with anything more.”
“Taking him down won’t be easy.”
“I understand.” He shot her another glance, his emotions raw and confused. He’d spent the past three years hating her, and now to learn she’d been just as much of a victim as he? If her story was true, that is.
“Tell me specifically how you escaped,” he asked as casually as he could. “If you’ve been under lock and key as you say, how’d you manage to get away even with his being more permissive?”
“He got drunk and forgot to lock me in my room. Either he thought he did or maybe he believed I was completely brainwashed.” She looked down, as if embarrassed. “Stockholm syndrome and all that.”
“Were you?”
“In a way.” When she raised her chin to meet his gaze, her expression was bleak. “I haven’t been allowed off the property in all this time. I wasn’t permitted any contact with other people, except for his employees. Even if he let me go outside the house on the grounds, he or one of the men he’d assigned as guards, was with me.”
She swallowed, the stiff way she held her shoulders telling him of her tension. “I’d come to believe I deserved to live like that. I came to feel the pain was punishment well deserved. Over time, after hearing the same things repeated over and over, I was beaten, both in body and spirit. He saw this. It made him happy. I believe he didn’t think I’d ever have the guts to run.”
Her quiet, matter-of-fact tone moved him more than he wanted her to know. Clearing his throat, he swallowed hard. “But you did.”
“Yes. He was drunk. For whatever reason, he brought you and Tim up. He was gloating about sending you to prison and furious that you’d gotten out.” A shadow crossed her eyes. “This time, when I heard that, something inside me snapped. After he passed out, I left. No one even tried to stop me.”
The more she spoke, the more he believed her. “How long do you think you have until he realizes you’re gone?”
“I don’t know. Usually, when he drinks like that, he looks for me first thing in the morning when he wakes up.”
The grim twist to her lovely mouth told him why.
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he changed the subject. “You really didn’t know I was initially convicted of killing Tim?”
“No. I honestly had no idea. I wasn’t permitted access to television, internet or even newspapers. I’m sorry.”
Which meant he’d spent a lot of time hating her for no valid reason.
That thought so blew his mind he had to think of something else. “I’m pretty sure Alex won’t risk searching for you himself. There are too many things that can go wrong. He’ll send people. Most likely he’ll also use the media. People who have never met you might have your picture.”
“What are you suggesting?” She frowned. “That I wear a disguise?”
“More like a complete overhaul. You won’t even recognize yourself when you look in the mirror. At least for when you go out. Do you wear contacts?”
“No.”
“Okay, then we’ll get colored, non-prescription