Thirty-One and a Half Regrets
Page 88

“No, I’ll take care of it.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, then something hit me. “You seemed surprised to hear that Crocker was after me. I called you yesterday and left a message. You didn’t get it?”
He paused. “You did what?”
“I called you and left a voice message begging you to call me back, but the phone died and we left it at the farmhouse, so I wasn’t sure if you got the call.”
“I didn’t get it, Rose.” He sounded horrified. “I would have had the state police looking for you yesterday if I did.”
I wanted to tell him it was okay, but it wasn’t. Someone was to blame. “It was Hilary, wasn’t it?” I asked, my anger rising. “She intercepted the call and deleted the voice mail.”
“Rose you don’t know—”
“You’re still defending her?” I shouted. “Even now? Even in this?” It was just one more betrayal. “My life is in danger, Joe, and she deleted my voice mail out of petty jealousy.”
“No. She wouldn’t do that. She has too much to lose.” But while his tone was hard, I heard a waver of uncertainty. “I told her that if she ever interferes with another one of my calls, we’ll be done for good. She wouldn’t risk it.”
“Do you even hear yourself right now? How many times have you told her that, yet look where you are right now?”
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
I steeled my back. “Give me the number for the state police.”
“What?”
“I want the state police to come save me. How can I rely on you? Hilary might ask you stay home to pick out a china pattern.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rose!”
All the fight fled from me, leaving only disappointment. “I’m not the one being ridiculous. Now give me the number.”
To his credit, he rattled it off and I scratched the digits down on the envelope.
“Thank you for your help. I need to hang up and call the state police.”
“Rose—” But I hung up before he could say anything else.
I held onto the telephone receiver, which was resting in the cradle, and leaned my forehead on it. Why was I so disappointed in him? I already knew Joe and Hilary were back together—our meeting at the nursery had been proof enough of that. Joe would always go back to Hilary. He was like a carrier pigeon and she was his home base. I couldn’t be with someone like that, someone who was captive to his past.
I needed Mason.
With a huge sigh, I straightened and picked up the receiver to call the state police. I punched in the number, but the phone call didn’t go through. I hung up and put the receiver to my ear, but this time there was no dial tone. I hung up and tried again. Still nothing.
Panic raced up my spine and I dropped the phone, running out the still-open back door toward the spot where I’d left Mason. On the other side of the house, Deputy Gyer stepped away from the building, holding a large pocketknife in his hand. A severed utility line dangled behind him. He turned to me with a wicked smile.
“Rose, long time no see,” he laughed. “You’re a hard woman to find.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Deputy Gyer was in on it too.
Recovering from the shock, I turned and ran for the trees behind the house, but he quickly caught up and snaked an arm around my waist, hauling me up to his chest.
“I think you’ve done enough running, little Rose.” He reached between us and pulled the handgun out of the waistband of my pants. “Crocker warned me you liked to hide guns on you. Looks like he was right.”
He dragged me toward the house and I kicked and squirmed, trying to break free. After I landed a solid kick to his shin, he grunted and grabbed a fistful of my hair, jerking his hand back.
I released a cry of pain and he growled in my ear. “You’ve caused me nothing but trouble since I showed up at your farm yesterday morning. Crocker wasn’t happy that we let you get away. While he told us to keep you alive, he didn’t say anything about what shape he wants you in. Don’t think I won’t beat the shit out of you to get you to cooperate.”
He practically carried me into the house and I craned my neck, desperate to see whether Mason was still in the woods. There wasn’t any sign of him. Deputy Gyer dragged me into a bedroom and my fear escalated, especially when I saw that another man was already in the room. He looked like a teenager and he was sporting a busted lip.
Gyer shot him a look of disgust, shaking his head. “What the hell happened to you?”
He turned bright red. “He put up a fight.”
“How? He’s got a busted leg and looked too weak to kick a kitten.” Deputy Gyer set me down and I tried to elbow him in the groin. He twisted my arms around my back with enough force to make me cry out. “Good thing I took care of this hellcat myself because Crocker would have both our asses if she got away.”
The teen glared at me.
Gyer shoved me toward an open walk-in closet. I struggled not to fall on top of Mason, who was sprawled face-first on the floor, his hands tied behind his back.
“Mason!”
“You just sit tight while we wait for Crocker to show up,” Detective Gyer said with a sneer. Then he slammed the door shut and we were plunged into darkness.
“Mason.” I blindly reached for him, coming into contact with his arm.
“I’m sorry, Rose.” He sounded devastated.