Man on a Mission (13 page)

She and Brian deserved a man who was better, a man who could provide a loving, supportive, extended family. They both deserved better than a man who was good for nothing but working with livestock.

Again he tightened his arms around her, reveling in the scent of her, the feel of her body warm and compliant against his own.

Closing his eyes, he felt his mind finally emptying of all thought other than this moment of holding April while she slept. They may not have a future together, but he had until dawn to hold her. And for the moment that was enough.

 

He awakened before dawn, instantly aware of what had been niggling at his mind concerning the old barn. He fought the impulse to awaken April and share with her what was on his mind.

Darkness still claimed the sky and April slept soundly in his arms. No point in awakening her yet. He checked his wristwatch, the luminous dial letting him know it was just after four. Dawn was only an hour away. He could wait.

Besides, waking with a beautiful naked woman in his arms was a novelty. In all his thirty-three years, he'd never actually slept the entire night with a woman.

When he and Rachel had been dating, she'd lived in an apartment building in town and hadn't wanted him leaving her house in the mornings in case the neighbors might see. But now, looking back, he realized she hadn't wanted the ultimate intimacy of sleeping in his arms.

Since Rachel, there had been no woman Mark had wanted to hold through the night, awaken to in the morning. Not until April.

He gazed at her now, taking pleasure in studying her features in leisure. In sleep she looked younger. He knew she must be about around thirty years old, but sleep erased ten years from her face.

She was beautiful, and her beauty ached inside him
because he wanted her for a lifetime, but knew he couldn't, shouldn't, have her.

Mark had spent his youth as the invisible middle son. He'd spent much of his adulthood as the invisible man. Being with April transformed him, made him feel visible for the first time in his life, but he didn't trust the transformation. He knew that eventually he'd go back to being nothing, nobody, and April deserved better, just as Rachel had.

Dawn light was streaking across the sky when April opened her eyes and smiled. “Good morning,” she said. “How long have you been awake?”

“About an hour or so.”

Neither of them moved from the warmth of their entanglement beneath the covers. “And what have you been doing for the past hour?”

“Thinking.”

She gazed at him intently. “You haven't changed your mind, have you? About going to the sheriff?”

He rubbed a hand down her back, loving the feel of her skin against his fingers. “No, I haven't changed my mind.”

“Good,” she said firmly.

“But—”

“I hate ‘buts,'” she said, interrupting him. She untangled herself from him and sat up, holding the sheet over her breasts with a sense of modesty.

He sat up, as well. “I've been thinking about the old barn,” he began.

“What about it?” She frowned.

“I still think something isn't right there.”

April's brow wrinkled in perplexity. “But we
checked it out. We didn't find anything suspicious, nothing odd at all.”

“Ever since we went there something has been bothering me about the place.” Mark raked a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, the realization about the barn that had been so illuminating an hour ago now seeming far reaching. “I don't know, maybe it's nothing.”

April placed a hand on his forearm. “Tell me,” she urged.

“When we were out at the barn and we were looking around inside, there were no footsteps in the dirt and dust on the floor.”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “I don't understand… That just means nobody had been out there before us.”

“But there should have been animal prints. Lizards and rodents, jackrabbits and who knows what else, would find the barn a perfect place to roam.”

“We saw a lizard, remember? It scared us when it raced across the floor.”

He nodded. “And when it ran across the floor, it left behind little footprints. I can't believe that was the first animal to run across that floor, and I keep seeing that broom standing in the corner.”

Again April's forehead creased with thought. “You think maybe somebody swept the floor to make it appear nobody had been there?”

He shrugged. “Isn't it possible?”

“Sure,” she agreed.

“So, it's not a crazy thought?”

She laughed, her gaze on him soft. “Mark, you're
about the most
un
crazy person I've ever known. So, what are you going to do?”

“Check it out one more time.”

“I'll come with you.” He looked at her in surprise, and she smiled. “Two people looking at something might find what one person misses.” She swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Besides, the barn won't scare me at dawn like it might scare me at dusk.”

“There's no guarantee that bogeymen come out only at night,” Mark observed.

She slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom door. “But I'm not afraid of bogeymen if I'm with you.” With that statement of utter trust, she disappeared into the bathroom.

Mark rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling that was painted with the colors of dawn. Once again his thoughts were in turmoil where April was concerned.

Somehow he'd garnered her complete and utter trust, and that scared him. With trust came responsibility, and the last thing Mark wanted was to be responsible for anyone.

He rolled out of bed and grabbed his clothes, then went into the hall bathroom for a quick shower.

By the time he was finished showering and dressing, April was waiting for him.

He felt the need to say something to her, to warn her not to rely on him, not to trust him. He wanted to tell her not to love him and to have no expectations of him despite what they had shared the night before.

However, he wasn't sure how to broach it. After all, she had spoken no words of love to him. In fact, she had told him after they'd made love the first time
that the last thing she wanted was another man in her life. She'd indicated that sex with him was enough for her.

“Should I just follow you to the barn?” she asked as they left the house.

“No, I'll ride with you in the car,” he replied.

She gestured to the big mare tethered to the hitching post in front of the house. “What about your horse?”

He untied the reins and slapped the horse on the rump. “Home,” he said, and the horse took off running. “She'll go back to the stables.”

Together they got into April's car, Mark behind the wheel. As always the sunrise was splendid as vivid colors splashed across the sky in the promise of a new day.

“You still don't intend to tell your brothers and sister the truth?” she asked once they were underway.

“No, I'm not willing to give up my act yet. It's the only thing that has given me any kind of information at all. At least I know for sure that whatever is going on, Billy Carr and Larry Greco are in it up to their teeth.”

“And you'll tell the sheriff that?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. And there's another reason why I'm not willing to give up my act yet.” He looked over at her and noticed how dawn's light painted her features in a soft glow. Her face was scrubbed clean, without a stitch of makeup, and yet she still radiated a beauty that affected him on a profound level.

“What's that?” she asked.

He frowned and once again focused his attention
out the front window. “Whoever hit me over the head at this moment believes that I'm too damaged to remember anything Marietta might have told me that night. If I confess that I'm unharmed mentally, then I become a threat once again.”

April gasped. “I hadn't thought about that.”

“The thought of becoming a target doesn't scare me,” he continued. “But right now I believe I have the edge. If I tell everyone the truth, then I feel like I'll lose that edge.”

He parked the car outside the barn, then turned to her. “Let's get this over with so I can put my mind to rest concerning this place.”

Together they got out of the car and approached the barn. The double door was halfway open, allowing the morning light to slash into the darkness. Mark pulled it all the way open, further illuminating the interior, then he and April stepped inside.

Instantly Mark's adrenaline pumped as he saw the utter smoothness of the floor in front of them. “This isn't right,” he said, more to himself than to her. “There should be marks on the floor.” He turned to look at April. “There's not even one sign of our footsteps from when we were here before.”

He walked over to the corner and grabbed the broom. Methodically he began to sweep the dust to expose the wooden floorboards beneath.

“What are you looking for?” April asked, then coughed as dust swirled in the air.

“I'm not sure,” he replied. And he wasn't. He only knew that it appeared that somebody had gone to great lengths to make certain the dust evenly covered the floor.

April moved behind him as the gritty dust and sand continued to fly, exposing more and more of the flooring beneath.

Adrenaline pumped through him as he bared the edge of a trap door in the floor. “April, look.” Hurriedly he swept to expose the rest of the door. When he was finished, April gripped his arm painfully tight.

“What do you think is down there?” she asked, her voice a cautious whisper.

“Maybe nothing, or maybe evidence that will tell us exactly what's been going on.” Mark bent down to grab the metal ring that would open the door.

“Well, well, if it isn't the half-wit and his honey.”

Mark straightened and whirled around to see Billy Carr behind them, a grin on his face and a gun pointed directly at them.

“F
or a man who doesn't have all his cornflakes in one box, you've become a real pain in the ass,” Billy said.

“What's going on here, Billy?” Mark asked. At the same time he placed his body between Billy and April.

April's heart felt as if it might explode from her chest. Although Billy's face held a smile, it was not a pleasant gesture, rather it was a grin that reflected the mean spirit, the evil heart of the man who brandished it.

“How come you've got a gun, Billy?” Mark asked, and in the slight singsong rhythm of his words, April realized he was attempting to play his fool role once again.

Billy's eyes narrowed, and the smirk on his lips fell aside. “Don't play with me, Mark. I heard enough
to know you aren't as half-witted as you've been pretending.”

“So, what are you going to do? Shoot me for being smarter than you thought?”

April gripped Mark's arm, wanting to stop him from baiting Billy, afraid of what Billy might do if Mark pushed him too far.

“I'll shoot you if I have to,” Billy returned. “But it will probably be up to the boss what happens to the two of you. If I was to guess, you'll end up someplace out in the desert as food for the buzzards just like Lenny did.”

April tightened her grip on Mark's arm, fighting panic.

“And who is this boss?” Mark asked.

Billy grinned. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

“So, it was you who killed Marietta? Who tried to kill me?” Mark's body was a single strand of taut energy.

“Nah, that was the boss man himself. Marietta just couldn't leave things alone and she had to drag you into the whole thing. Then that damned Lenny saw what happened to the two of you and he had to be taken care of. We had to protect ourselves. Larry,” he bellowed suddenly. “Git down here. I need your help.”

Mark and April looked up as Larry Greco descended the stairs from the loft. Now there were two men with guns facing them.

As if sensing April's incredible fear, Mark grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly.

“What are we gonna do now?” Larry asked, his eyes wild with anxiety as he looked at Mark and
April. “This whole thing has gotten out of control, way out of control. I told you I wanted out.”

“Shut up,” Billy snapped. “We're going to make certain these two can't do anything to screw up the operation.” He gestured toward the door in the floor. “Open it up.”

Despite April's enormous fear and the knowledge that she and Mark were in danger, curiosity filled her as Larry moved to the door.

“It's got to be drugs,” Mark said more to himself than to anyone else. “They've got to be running drugs from here.”

Billy snorted and grinned. “Just shows you aren't as smart as you think you are. Selling drugs is for fools.”

“Then what? What in the hell is going on?” Mark's voice was deep and gruff with anger.

Larry opened the door, then stepped back, his gun still trained on Mark and April.

“Come on out, everyone,” Billy yelled.

April gasped as men began crawling up out of the hole in the floor. There were five in all, five Mexican men who chattered to each other in Spanish as they bent and stretched to alleviate cramped muscles.

“Illegal aliens,” Mark said flatly.

“Ah, but not just any illegal aliens,” Billy replied. “These are members of the Juarez family, extremely wealthy men and head of one of the largest drug cartels in Mexico. Unfortunately, the Mexican army has been making life and work miserable for them lately, so they've decided to relocate to the States.”

“But the United States wouldn't exactly welcome
them in with open arms.” Again Mark's voice was flat and emotionless.

“That's right,” Billy replied. “They're all convicted felons, but they're very generous with those who help them. We hold them here while Larry works up some impeccable identification.”

“And you've done this for others, as well?” Mark's disgust was obvious.

“This is our fourth group,” Billy boasted. “Now get in the hole.”

April's heart clenched in her chest, making breathing difficult as she eyed the dark hole in the ground. It looked like a grave. She feared it would be her grave.

Mark's hand once again tightened around hers, as if he'd read her thoughts and was attempting to give her courage.

“Come on, let's go,” Billy said impatiently.

April cast a frantic look at the five men who stood nearby, watching the unfolding scene with interest. However, there was no compassion, no commiseration on any of their faces, nothing to indicate they might be inclined to help her or Mark. Convicted felons, drug lords, they weren't going to help them.

Together Mark and April moved to the door. She peered down, seeing that against one wall was a wooden ladder that lead down into the dark depths.

“Billy, let April go,” Mark said. “She won't tell anyone what she's seen here.”

Again Billy snorted a burst of unpleasant laughter. “Yeah, right, now you're talking like you think
I
have brain damage. Come on, I'm losing patience
here. Get down there so I can go get the boss and tell him what's happening.”

With trembling arms and legs, April lowered herself onto the ladder and descended into the darkness below. To her surprise, there were only seven long stairs before her feet touched the bottom.

She stood on the earthen floor and looked up, expecting to see Mark descending just behind her. Suddenly there were sounds of a scuffle, a grunt of pain, then Mark fell through the hole and landed, half sitting at her feet.

“Mark!” She crouched next to him. “Are you all right?” she asked, her fingertips fluttering over his face, across his shoulders.

“Yeah, although I think I have a new lump on my head.” He shifted positions and pulled her to sit next to him, their backs against the enclosure wall. “I tried to get to my gun, but Billy realized what I was doing. He grabbed it first and cracked me over the head.”

At that moment the door overhead slammed shut, casting them into the most profound darkness April had ever known. Her heart raced a frantic rhythm as fear gripped her in icy fingers.

Mark put an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him, resting her head against the front of his shirt. Slowly the panic ebbed, although her heart continued to beat far too fast.

“April, I'm sorry.” His arm tightened around her. “I'm so sorry I got you into this.” His voice was low, deep with torment.

She reached up and placed a hand on the side of his face. “Shh. You didn't get me into anything. I came with you this morning of my own will.” She
laughed, and in that laughter heard a touch of her own hysteria. “Who'd have thought that the bogeymen would be up and working at dawn?”

He tightened his embrace of her and for a few long minutes they remained silent, simply holding on to each other. Sounds drifted down from the barn above, the creaking of floorboards as somebody walked across them, a low murmur of voices broken by an occasional burst of laughter.

What was going to happen to them? How long would they be in this hole in the ground?

Brian.

What was going to happen to Brian? April tried not to think of her son, knowing that thoughts of Brian would drive her insane. She tried not to think of how desperate their situation seemed to be, knowing that, too, would make her crazy.

She had to maintain control, had to sustain hope that somehow they'd get out of this mess. “Will somebody come looking for you?” she asked.

“I don't know… Probably not until I don't show up for the family meeting. That's at nine. What about you? Will Brian tell somebody you aren't at home?”

“Eventually.” She frowned. “But he doesn't work at the stables this morning, so who knows what time he and Ricky will get up and around. It could be noon before he realizes I'm missing.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she thought of her son, alone and frightened, wondering what had happened to her.

Mark cursed, a muttering of violent frustration. He sighed and stroked her hair with his hand. In his touch, she felt his regret, his anger that she'd become embroiled in this whole mess.

She was angry, too. For both of them. Angry that men would go to any lengths for money, angry that the Delaney Dude Ranch, a place that should have been for good, clean fun and relaxation, had become the location for criminal activity.

“At least now you know,” she said. “Now you know what Marietta had wanted to tell you. Exactly what's been going on out here.”

“Yeah, but knowing
what
isn't enough. I want to know who.”

“Do you have any idea who the boss might be?” she asked. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and at her question it stepped up its rhythm.

“No,” he replied, but there was a lack of conviction in his answer. “I can't tell you for sure who the boss is, but I can tell you what I fear.” He hesitated for a long moment. “I'm afraid that it's Luke or Matthew or Johnna.” The words flew out of him as if beneath an enormous pressure.

April stirred against him. “Oh, Mark, surely you can't really believe that. Although I don't know your brothers and sister well, surely you can't think any of them have anything to do with all this.”

“I don't know them well enough to know what they're capable of.” Again his voice was deep and filled with the torment of his thoughts. “I have agonized over this. I don't want to believe any of them capable…but I just don't know.”

“But, Mark, you grew up with them. How could you not know them well enough to know what they are capable of?” April struggled to understand the dynamics between the Delaney children. “Surely you
must know in your heart that your own family wouldn't murder Marietta, wouldn't try to kill you.”

“Did you know your own father well enough to realize he was capable of stealing all your money?”

April frowned thoughtfully. She leaned away from him and instead placed her back against the wall. Although their shoulders still touched, she needed a bit of distance to think properly.

“You know, it's funny. For all this time since my father's death, I've felt betrayed, like he'd intentionally cheated me, and I couldn't understand how he would do such a thing, not just to me, but to Brian.”

She was surprised to realize her sense of betrayal was gone, and without it the truth of the situation was evident. “But I know now that isn't true.”

“What do you mean?”

April wished there was some light, so she could look into Mark's eyes. She'd feel better, more at ease, if she could see him. “My father loved me. He would never have intentionally hurt me. He was weak and foolish, and probably believed he'd be able to make me money by spending my money. But I know he didn't intentionally mean to cheat me. People who truly love you don't deliberately hurt you.”

“That may be your experience, but it hasn't been mine.” There was a touch of bitterness in his voice.

“Tell me, Mark. Tell me about growing up with your family.” April touched his arm to encourage him.

Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she knew what she was doing—trying to keep her mind off the fact that they were in an earthen tomb, waiting for death to come to them.

 

Mark raked a hand down his face, frustration, regret and rage creating a tumble of emotions inside him. He was frustrated with his helplessness, regretting the fact that April was now at risk because of his need to be a lone ranger. Finally, he was raging inside at the knowledge that somebody had used his home to bring criminal, illegal aliens into the country.

He mentally attempted to shove through the emotion and delve back into his past, a past he'd tried for years not to think about.

He shifted positions and stretched his legs out before him in an attempt to avoid getting cramped. “We were raised not to trust each other, to compete against one another for my father's attention, his approval and ultimately his love.”

Mark shook his head as memory after memory assailed him, and along with the memories came an ache in his chest. “My father was such a difficult man, so hard, so cold, and we kids were all so needy, so eager to please him.”

He couldn't explain everything to her. The heartless words his father would spout, the fists that flew due to some imagined slight and the subtle manipulation that pitted child against child. Some of it was simply too painful to revisit.

“Most of the time Matthew was my father's obvious favorite, and he guarded that position very carefully, tattling on the rest of us whenever we did something wrong.” Subconsciously Mark rubbed the lump that had risen on the back of his head where Billy had clunked him with the gun butt, welcoming the edge of pain that accompanied his touch.

“Johnna was usually the one in the doghouse. For some reason she garnered my father's anger faster and more often than the rest of us. Luke was the only one who could make Dad laugh. He got out of a lot of beatings by playing the fool.”

“But, Mark, what would they have to gain by being the boss of an illegal alien operation?”

“Money. I'm sure those men out there are paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to get into the country with proper paperwork.”

“But why would any of your family need money? None of you seem to be exactly starving.” Once again she placed a hand on his arm, and her touch was more welcome than he was willing to acknowledge even to himself.

“We're all financially comfortable as long as the ranch continues to run. But if the ranch is sold and the proceeds go to our aunt Clara, then we each end up virtually penniless.” Again he reached up and touched the lump on his scalp, the pain of that touch far more welcome than the pain of his thoughts.

“Maybe Matthew believes the more money he has, the better he'll be able to control the terms of the will and convince the rest of us to adhere to it. He'll do anything for the ranch.”