Quinn just grinned, but Kirkland made the introductions. Fifth, Id like you to meet my wifes niece, Madison OGrady. Now Kirkland was grinning, obviously unaware that his kin was firing a look that might kill the only deputy for miles around. We asked her to come in this morning. Thought you two might like to get acquainted.
Welcome, Miss OGrady. Fifth removed his hat and offered his hand, hoping she didnt bite it off.
The sheriff slapped his deputy on the shoulder. So...ah...enjoy your coffee and rolls, Deputy. Well be back before you finish. At least Brigman had the sense not to grin.
Quinn, Staten and the sheriff vanished, leaving him alone with the angry woman. The instinct to run was so strong he couldnt get his tongue untied enough to speak.
Without asking if he wanted one, she poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the table, not seeming to notice, or care, that boiling liquid spilled out.
He sat down. Hed had women look at him with total disinterest, or sometimes even with fear because of his size, but hed never been the kind of guy to bring out hateor passion, for that matterin anyone. In fact, hed always kind of thought that women his age viewed him as a friend more than anything else. He guessed hed be like his two older brothers where women were concerned. Hed marry a woman who was a friend and settle into an easy kind of partnership.
Fifth drew the plate of rolls close before she decided to shove them over. Maybe if he ignored her shed calm down. He downed the first roll in two bites. It smelled good, but he swallowed so fast he didnt bother to taste it.
The second of Quinns famous cinnamon rolls was almost to his mouth when Madison OGrady spoke.
Well, she snapped as she paced, where do you want to do it? Here on the table? The couch is long enough but it might not be wide enough for us, or there are several bedrooms upstairs. Pick one.
Fifth stared at the roll, figuring she probably wasnt talking about eating. Do what? he said quietly.
Have sex, of course. We were obviously brought here to meet. My whole family has been trying to match me up like the expiration date on me is about to run out. Last month it was a six-five trucker who stopped at the café. They thought I should drop everything and come meet him. Thank goodness he turned out to be married or Id be on an eighteen-wheeler to Des Moines, Iowa, right now.
Fifth must have still looked confused because she added, Why waste time talking or dating or getting married? Lets just do it right here, right now. Were obviously meant for one another. Were both over six feet.
Fifth didnt know what to do. She may have been angry, but damned if she wasnt the sexiest woman hed ever encountered. He must be a masochist.
Hed always been hesitant to have any one-night stands because he feared he might hurt a small woman. Now he wasnt sure Madison wouldnt hurt him.
Madison! Kirkland yelled from his office. You fully gassed and ready?
She didnt take her eyes off Fifth. I can be in the air in five.
Good. The sheriff appeared in the office doorway. Fifth, inhale another bite and follow Madison. I want you two gone as fast as possible.
Fifth caught the surprise in her eyes a moment before she grabbed a satchel and ran for the back door.
He was right behind her. He had no trouble matching her long strides as she stormed toward a helicopter parked on the other side of Kirklands barn. Youre the pilot. It wasnt a question.
Yes, and you must be the passenger I came all the way from Wichita Falls to pick up. She glanced over at him. Youre the expert on rough terrain they were talking about. I thoughtI thought...
I think I know what you thought. He grinned. Youre not the only one who gets set up with strangers because of their height.
Im sorry, she said as she opened the passenger door.
Forget it. How about we start over? Fifth dropped his hat in the cargo bag and put on headphones. Youre the pilot and Im the expert. He watched her circle the chopper and climb into the pilots seat before adding, Only, I hope youre a better pilot than I am an expert. Ive been studying up for months, but Ive had no field experience.
Climb in, she shouted as she started the helicopter. Youre about to have the ride of your life.
Fifth folded into the passenger seat, bumping her shoulder as he buckled himself in. So, I guess sex on the kitchen table is off the agenda?
She laughed, then winked at him. Not necessarily.
Fifth froze. Now he was shocked, but by the time his brain cells fired, it was too late to run. They were already in the air.
CHAPTER FIVE
Peace
TORI WALKED THE rocky ground behind Parkers house near Crossroads. The land didnt look good for much as far as farming. One field near the road was plowed, but the rest seemed like it had always grown wild. Whoever built this house had wanted peace, she decided. The front porch faced the morning sun. Trees had been planted in a circle out back years ago and now offered a small meadow of shade.
She already loved it here. Her mind had settled, and she could feel herself growing stronger. Whenor ifher stepfather found her, she wouldnt be the same person as she had been two weeks ago when she vanished.
She was twenty-four, and it was time she took control of her own life. She should have done it years ago, but her mother kept saying that her new husband, Toris stepfather, knew best. He was a businessman, and he would run everything so that all Tori would have to do was paint. When Tori had protested again, at nineteen, her mother had reminded her of how the mixing of business and art had driven Toris father mad. Hed loved being the carpenter, working with his hands, but when his carvings began to sell for thousands, he lost the simple joy in creating.
Tori had backed off, letting her mother win, again. And again. And again. Letting her mother and stepfather handle the business side of her career so she could paint. Only lately shed felt like a factory, always pushed to produce.
She twirled in the meadow. Freedom, she yelled, then laughed.
Maybe shed paint today. Maybe shed sleep in the sun. Maybe shed go visit the man at the edge of town who called her Rabbit.
But, no matter what, shed do what she wanted to do. Shed live her own life.
CHAPTER SIX
Dallas in cadet-gray rain
PARKER LOVED THE gallery after dark. The lights of a rainy Dallas surrounded her as they glowed through the forty-foot wall of glass that framed the building. Paintings seemed to float between the city and the rich, earthy reds of Saltillo tiles.
Somehow the art seemed to come alive as shadows bordered each creations elegant grace. Her gallery was a still, unpolluted kind of paradise that always made Parker feel safe and comfortable.
The possibility of dying couldnt reach her here. She could push the prospect from her mind and just breathe.
She took one last walk through her world. She almost had everything ready. Her staff believed she had a scouting trip in the planning stages but she was, for the first time in her life, running away to have an adventure. To paint. To live. To help a friend.
For years, shed been saying shed take off when everything slowed down. Shed go to Crossroads, Texas, where shed bought a farmhouse almost ten years ago. Her someday dream had always been to paint. Shed been driving from Dallas to Albuquerque one summer on the back roads and seen a For Sale sign hooked to a barbed-wire fence in the middle of nowhere.
On a whim shed turned off a road that was posted as private. The land, if it had ever been tamed, had gone back to nature. One edge dipped down into a canyon with rich earth shades that took her breath away. The other direction spread over rolling prairie spotted with wildflowers and clusters of trees surrounding small ponds. She remembered seeing the little two-story farmhouse peeking out from behind a huge oak planted at the bend in the lane leading up to the place.
The old house was perfect. Small, with an unfinished attic that could serve as a studio. High ceilings with good light streaming in. Tall windows in the back with a canyon view. Heaven at the end of a private road. A painters hideaway. The rancher next door owned the small chunk of land and had said he needed money to pay taxes. Shed made an offer and he didnt even bother to counter. Within hours shed bought the place, hired a couple to clean once a month and headed back to the city.
Her someday place would be waiting for her.
A few years later, the rancher offered to lease the small field that bordered his place for a percentage of the profits. She said she would if hed use the money to keep up her house and the road they shared. Whatever you pay out, spend it on repairs and paint, shed said, knowing she had little time to even think about the farm. She was almost thirty and had had a business to build.
Will do, lady, hed said.
A month later hed called and asked what color she wanted the outside painted.
The color of the Texas sky in summer. And, cowboy shed forgotten his name by then when you have enough in my balance to paint the inside, dont bother to call mejust paint each room the color of a different flower that grows on my land.
Will do, hed said again and had hung up without saying goodbye.
But Parker knew the colors didnt really matter. Shed probably go the rest of her life seeing the place only in her mind. Itd be blue, like the sky. One room would be the yellow of sunflowers, another the violet of morning glories or the scarlet in Indian paintbrush.
The cowboy never called again, and the house slowly became more of an imaginary place in Parkers thoughts than a reality.
Until now. Maybe, with Tori visiting, Parker might actually start creating her own work. She smiled. With her luck, the cranky cowboy would be color-blind and shed have to repaint the whole house before she even set up a canvas.
The buzzer on the gallerys main door pulled her from her thoughts. Parker moved close enough to hear the security guard, but stayed in the shadows.
Ill need IDs, she heard the guard yell through the glass. Then Ill see if Miss Lacey is available.
Two men in suits stepped forward and slapped what looked like very official badges on the glass.
After talking to someone on the phone for a minute, the guard nodded at the suits, but didnt open the door.
Parker moved farther into the shadows as he hurried toward her.
Miss Lacey, two FBI agents want to talk to you. I can tell them youve already gone if you like.
No. Ill talk to them. Bring them to my office. Parker smiled; shed been expecting this. Tori had been gone for over a week, so it was about time they got around to asking questions. And if she wasnt willing to answer them, she might raise their suspicion. Parker worked with easily a hundred artists, and Victoria Vilanie was only one. There was no reason to believe Parker had anything to do with or knew anything about her disappearance. But she had a feeling it was the press that really wanted answers.
The guard nodded and turned to the door.
She watched the two men moving toward her. One was taller, older. The other was beefy, like hed overdone the workouts. Neither man even glanced at the art on either side of them.
Ten minutes later, shed answered all their standard questions. Yes, shed met Victoria Vilanie in person once at a conference in LA, and she believed they might have been on the same plane back to Dallas. She got off then, but seemed to remember Victoria staying on the flight heading to Detroit. Yes, she knew how talented the woman was. No, she didnt know if Tori was unstable. No, they were not friends. No, she didnt know if the artist took drugs. Yes, she did keep Victorias number on file.
She passed them the form that she asked all her artists to fill out. The younger man looked over it and handed the paper back. Obviously, she had nothing that they didnt already have in their records.
Whyd you write Tori on the top corner? the older one asked.
She asked me to call her that, Parker answered.
Are you aware that she had death threats before the LA showing? Her parents are very worried that some harm may have come to her.
Yes. I read about it in the paper. If I remember the story, a man had seen her picture and started writing her through the galleries.
Right. The agent looked bored. You ever get any of those letters, Miss Lacey?
No. Parker thought of adding that no gallery that she knew of had got a letter. She suspected the story might have been a lie Toris stepfather told or a publicity stunt.
As she walked them to the door, she asked, Whats the big deal? Doesnt a woman have the right to take a vacation? Maybe shes lost in her work. Artists tend to do that. She knew it was more than that, but Tori hadnt gone into much detail that night at the airport when theyd huddled together in a corner of the crowded terminal and planned her disappearance. Shed just said she wanted to run away from a life she hated, and that she had no one to turn to but Parker.
At first it had seemed like a game. Planning each step. Even seeing if they could buy untraceable phones. But as theyd boarded their flight, Tori had smiled, as though part of her panic had vanished. Her life was like a rocket speeding out of control, and Parker had offered her an escape hatch.
Now the game felt real, and Parker had never felt so alive.
The taller agent looked at her with cold, black eyes. The press believes Victoria Vilanie to be one of the finest artists in the world. She may have been kidnapped. In fact, according to the press, the stepfather is sure of it.
Or, Parker tried again, still, she might just be on vacation. Maybe she doesnt like all the attention. Maybe shes shy. The minute the words were out, Parker knew shed said too much.
The older agent suddenly seemed to wake up. He stared at her as if hed just heard something that would put her on the watch list.
The beefy guy shook his head. He seemed more interested in arguing than picking up clues. The press says the public has a right to know, and besides, where would she go? Shes been a recluse for years.
I cant think of anywhere, but after all, I dont really know Tori.
The agent looked at Parker as if he thought she might be protesting too much. His question came out in a whisper. What do you know, Miss Lacey?
Parker fought to keep calm. Nothing. I just know artists, and most dont like to be in public. They are very private people. The creation of a work of art comes from deep inside and has to have a great deal of silence and alone time to bloom.