A touch of love (34 page)

She leveled the pistol at Harlan. "He'll never tell us anything, Jesse. Let me shoot him now. I'll start with his knees."

Jesse's rage was barely under control, but he knew Aubrey to be far too sweet and gentle a woman to actually fire at the man. Liking her spirit, he greeted her ruse with a savage grin. "Yeah. I like that. It won't equal the pain he caused the Ferrells, but it will at least be a start."

Aubrey was careful to stay out of Harlan's reach as she aimed for his crotch. "Then again, there are other places where a man's even more vulnerable."

"No!" Harlan screamed, and he covered himself with his hands. Blood was streaming down his face from a bro-

ken nose and deep cut above his right eye. "You've got the wrong man. Gilroy's to blame. Not me. I just told him to rough up Pete, to discourage him from talking to other investors. Next thing I knew, the Ferrells were all dead and Gilroy was begging me to help him hide their bodies.

"He was acting crazy and I didn't dare refuse. It was dark and I was so afraid we were going to get caught, I sure as hell didn't stick around to plant markers."

Jesse leaned close and drew the tip of his knife across Harlan's cheek. With just a slight increase in pressure, he would draw blood, and he was ready to do it. "You're forgetting that we've met Gilroy, and he's just a big, dumb jerk who's probably not had an original thought his whole life. No jury is ever going to believe he was the brains of your outfit."

Buffeted by a sudden gust of wind, Jesse felt the sand shifting beneath his feet Not wanting to risk staying out in what could quickly become a blinding sandstorm, he took the pistol from Aubrey, then slid his knife back into his boot. "Come on, we're going back to my truck to call the Highway Patrol on my radio. If you're real lucky, you'll have found the bodies before they arrive. If not, then they'll have to take you away in a body bag." He nodded in the direction of the highway. "Get moving."

Hurting badly, Harlan had a difficult time just getting to his feet. Walking through the sand was torture. After a few wobbling paces, he stumbled and fell to his knees, but Jesse dragged him upright and shoved him along. They had not strayed far from the highway, but made slow progress back to the truck.

"Where's your car?" Aubrey asked the battered developer.

Harlan's eyes were nearly swollen shut, and sore and stiff, he had to turn his whole body to glance up and

down the road, but clearly he did not like what he saw. "I walked," he mumbled.

"Like hell," Jesse laughed. "I'll bet you drove out here with Rachel McClure and the instant she saw the sand flying she took off, which is exacdy what you deserve/* He reached inside the Chevy, and using his CB radio, requested the Highway Patrol's assistance. "You have five minutes, maybe ten before they arrive. Now where are the bodies?"

Harlan spit out a mouthful of blood, then sent a pleading glance toward a gleaming tractor-trailer rig coming their way. For a split-second, Jesse thought Harlan might throw himself in front of it, and he grabbed his arm to pull him around behind the Chevy. "I want you back here away from the traffic. There will be no easy way out for you."

Harlan responded with a rasping laugh. "You've no witness who'll testify, and no evidence. Do you really think I'd commit suicide just for spite?"

"You're forgetting something, Mr. Caine," Aubrey quickly reminded him. "You threatened my life, and had Jesse and Lucky not come to my rescue, I've no doubt that you would have shot me. A charge of attempted murder will keep you behind bars long enough for us to discover the Ferrells' remains and tie you to their deaths."

Leaning against the truck, Harlan settled down into a tough slouch. "I followed you out here merely to counter Gilroy's lies. I just waved the gun to frighten you. I'd never have shot you, and I have every intention of charging both of you with assault. As for that vicious dog of yours, I'll see he's put down."

Aubrey was astonished by Harlan Caine's gall. "Is there another big truck coming?" she asked Jesse. "I'll be happy to help you toss this vermin under its wheels."

His bravado fading, Harlan pressed himself back against

the Chevy's fender. "You wouldn't dare," he whispered shakily.

"Hell, I'd scrape your carcass off the road and do it twice," Jesse assured him. The wind kicked up again and the cars and trucks passing by were traveling at increased speeds to get past the Devil's Playground before the flying grit ground off most of their paint. Jesse reached for the door handle. "Aubrey, you and Lucky get in the truck. There's no reason for all of us to stand out here in the wind."

Aubrey welcomed Jesse's suggestion, but Harlan was regarding them both with a bitter loathing that prompted her to issue one last threat as she moved by him. "We lied to you, Caine. I am psychic, and now that we have the general location where the Ferrells are buried, I'll be able to pinpoint the grave within hours. Criminals always believe themselves to be clever, but that doesn't mean they're smart. I'll bet you shot Pete and Marlene with the same gun Jesse's holding, and—"

Suddenly erupting in a furious cursing fit, Harlan shoved Aubrey into Jesse, and before he could catch her, she tripped over Lucky's leash and fell hard. With Jesse distracted picking up Aubrey, Harlan raced around the Chevy to the driver's side. When he found it locked, he released a frustrated shriek, but at that instant Rachel McClure pulled up in his Seville on the opposite side of the highway and honked the horn.

The wind was really blowing now, dampening the piercing wail of approaching sirens. The swirling sand turned the sun a dusty orange and blurred Harlan's vision, but with Jesse rounding the truck, he did not pause to look for oncoming traffic before stumbling out onto the highway. He made it across the first lane safely, but not the second.

Aubrey clamped her hands over her ears to shut out the

sickening thump, but it echoed in her mind. Accompanied by the wrenching squeal of brakes, the horrible accident gained momentum as car after car swung wide to avoid the crumpled body lying in the road. With the burgeoning sandstorm obscuring everyone's vision, near-misses were frequent, but the Highway Patrol arrived on the scene and slowed traffic before another tragedy occurred.

Unable to offer the authorities more than basic background information, Jesse helped Aubrey into his truck, tucked Harlan's pistol behind his seat for safekeeping, and then held her close. Fascinated by the flashing lights on the patrol cars, Lucky sat up and rested his paws on the dashboard to watch. Aubrey searched Jesse's expression, but saw only the same sorrow mirrored there that shadowec her own.

"Oh, my God," she moaned. "If any man ever deserved to die horribly it was Harlan Caine, but I didn't mean to scare him into running out onto the highway."

Jesse slid his hands to her shoulders. "Listen to me. He went wild when you mentioned the gun, which has to mean you were right about it. If Rachel hadn't shown up on the wrong side of the highway, he wouldn't have dashed out into the traffic. It was plain he expected to see her when we marched him out here to the truck. She must have been parked nearby. Maybe she heard the shot he fired, got scared, and drove off.

"Something must have prompted her to come back. You asked if I believed in fate. I think Harlan created his own disastrous death, and today it finally caught up with him. We'll have to give the Highway Patrol a statement, but as soon as the wind dies down, I hope you'll feel up to making another try at finding the graves. Let's stay together this time, and maybe we'll have better luck."

Hearing what sounded like his name, Lucky turned toward Jesse. Aubrey reached out to hug the dog. "I didn't

have time to place an ad, but checked the Times for lost dogs. People were missing poodles and collies, even a Chihuahua, but no one was looking for a young German shep-herd. ,,

Jesse spoke her name in a tender sigh. "Aubrey, Lucky saved your life today. He was meant to be your dog. I knew that when we were in Sedona, and I didn't intend to keep him long."

That Jesse had already planned to come see her before she had called him thrilled Aubrey clear through. Unable to observe the grisly scene on the highway, she glanced out at the sands swirling above the Devil's Playground, doubted the storm would last long, and had a sudden inspiration. "I can call Cecile Blanchard and ask her to look after Guinevere and Lucifer so that we can stay here. Let's come back tonight after dark. With the stars to guide us, I think we'll have more success."

In so many ways, Jesse believed they already had, but he agreed. They had to leave statements down at the Highway Patrol headquarters, where they learned a hysterical Rachel McClure had been taken to the hospital, but not charged with any crime. They spent the rest of the day and early evening snuggled in each other's arms in a comfortable motel room in Barstow. Then when the wind died down, they gathered their courage and returned to the desert site.

*T think they must have pulled off the road just past the sign for the Devil's Playground," Jesse said. "We covered part of the area where they might have buried the Ferrells today. Maybe we were close when Caine found you."

4 'No. I don't believe so." Aubrey climbed out of the truck and kept a firm grip on Lucky's leash. They'd studied the Highway Patrol's maps of the Devil's Playground and found the area to be nearly forty miles in length, but less than twenty miles of the narrow width bordered the road.

Oddly shaped, it resembled a glove, with a long index finger extending toward the west.

'The desert dreams were right/' she told Jesse, "and the Indian pointed west. Let's go that way, until we feel or hear something compelling."

Had someone told Jesse a month ago that he would soon be pressing the limits of his perceptions into the psychic realm, he would have howled with laughter. Tonight, Aubrey's suggestion struck him as a wise course to follow. "Let's give ourselves plenty of time."

"Yes. I doubt spirits wear watches." Aubrey laced her fingers in his, and they began moving slowly across the wind-rippled sand. There was very little traffic on the highway that night, providing only a faint hum in the distance. She timed her breathing to her steps, and because Marlene was the one they had heard in the Ferrells' garage, she sent her a silent call. It made sense to her that a mother's love would be strong even after death, and she prayed that she and Jesse possessed sufficient psychic ability to hear Marlene's cries a second time.

Hand in hand Aubrey and Jesse walked slowly, aimlessly, while at the same time they strained for even a faint sign they were on the right path. Simply enjoying the exercise, Lucky trotted along beside them. The day had been warm, and stored heat still radiated from the sand, but when Aubrey felt a sudden chill, she tightened her grip on Jesse's hand. He stopped with her, and not daring to speak, she inhaled deeply and her whole body flooded with tingling anticipation.

A tremendous sorrow had filled them at the Ferrells' home, but here in the desert sands, the mood surrounding them became one of tranquil beauty. There was no change in the light, no shimmering sparkle, but Aubrey felt the same blissful calm experienced in a Zen garden. The Indian did not appear in her mind, but she knew this was

precisely the spot where he had stopped to scoop up a handful of sand. She knew it without needing proof, as readily as she knew her own name.

"I think this is the place," Jesse whispered softly. "But it isn't sad as I had thought it would be. They must be at peace, at last. I guess there really is a heaven, and they're already there."

They had brought a single wooden stake topped with a red streamer, and Jesse knelt to bury it in the sand. "The authorities will investigate tomorrow, but I don't want to be here. Do you?" He rose and brushed the sand from his hands.

"No. Let's just get up early in the morning and go home."

Jesse draped his arm around Aubrey's shoulders as they made their way back to the truck. Lucky had enjoyed the trek across the sand, and as they drove back into Barstow he leaned out the window, eager to sample the scents floating on the evening breeze. Along with toothbrushes* they had bought a water bowl and dog food, so Lucky was quickly settled for the night.

Aubrey found it impossible to sleep, however, and Jesse knew she did not feel up to making love any more than he did. He had never simply held a woman in his arms, but with her, it felt right. "If we found them," he murmured, "you know what's going to happen to us, don't you?"

Aubrey sighed and pressed her shoulders against his chest. "Yes, exactly what I feared. We'll be asked to appear on all the talk shows and despondent families will deluge us with heartbreaking pleas to find their missing loved ones. The requests began coming in when the photograph of us first appeared in the newspaper. I just don't think I could do this again and again though, Jesse. And yet, we've

barely glimpsed what we might be able to do, and it would be cowardly not to pursue it."

"We?"Jesse chuckled. "I won't argue with you. Whatever mystical power we have works best when we're together."

Aubrey covered a wide yawn. She didn't want to be Jesse's business partner, but did not feel up to suggesting a deeper emotional tie. "Let's just go to sleep. Tomorrow has to be a better day."

Jesse smoothed her hair away from her cheek, then leaned close to kiss her goodnight. This had easily been the strangest few weeks of his life, but he would not have traded them for any prize. One thing at a time, he cautioned himself, but Aubrey had been asleep a long while before he finally quieted the noisy memories that too often disturbed his rest.

Jesse spoke with Detective Heffley soon after he and Aubrey arrived home on Wednesday, but gained little satisfaction from her assurance John Gilroy was known to have crossed the border into Mexico, where he would surely stay. Jesse made a brief report of Harlan Caine's death and told the detective to contact the authorities in San Bernadino County, where he had left the developer's pistol for ballistic's testing. It was a strained conversation at best, but all Jesse felt he owed her.