Rustler's Heart (A Kinnison Legacy Novel) (2 page)

Dalton shrugged. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. I mean, what if this broad has some crazy vendetta, you know? I have no idea what kind of picture Eloise painted of me and Wyatt.”

“Broad? You do realize you’re talking about your half-sister, right? What are you saying…like she’s going after you with a chainsaw in the middle of the night or something?” Rein laughed.

Dalton raised a brow.

“You’ve watched too many of those damn crime shows.” He put his cup down and stretched out the kink in his back from sleeping on the cot. “I guess we’ll find out a few days.”

Dalton didn’t respond.

“From what Wyatt told us,, it doesn’t appear she’s the serial killer type.”

“That’s just it. All he knows is what she told him. How do we know if any of it is true? How can we be certain of anyone’s background that chooses to come here? That’s my chief concern.”

He considered Dalton’s comments. “You make a valid point, and like Wyatt said, that is something we’re going to have to address when we begin drawing up the rental agreements. But really, there is a multitude of ways to do a background check on someone if a person wanted to.”

Dalton shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. I should do one on this Liberty chick. Good idea, bro.” He reached over and slapped Rein on the shoulder.

He hated to feed into Dalton’s obvious displeasure with Wyatt’s decision to allow Liberty to come in and live off them until who knows when. But if little Miss Liberty thought for one minute she could stay here, eat their food, and use their services for free, she was in for a serious wakeup call.

Curious now, Rein rinsed out his cup and pulled on his work gloves. “Let me know what you find out. Meantime, let’s head over and pick up that furniture before that storm blows in.”

Dalton finished his cup and frowned as he followed him out the door. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the sun is brilliant, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.”

Rein fished the keys to his truck out of his pocket and eyed the sky. “Yeah, but I heard an owl outside the cabin last night.”

Dalton rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Jeez, you and Wyatt and that damn American Indian mumbo-jumbo.”

Rein just tossed him a smile.

***

She checked her watch. Ticket in hand, Liberty waited on the scarred wood bench at the seedy bus station in the worst possible area of town. The clerk, safe behind her bulletproof glass and steel barred office, gazed out with a sullen face at the handful of passengers who waited for the nine-thirty bus. She looked again at the schedule. With a couple of transfers in Utah and Montana, she should arrive in Billings by midnight Friday. She’d packed in haste and brought only what she could carry in her oversized duffle. The rest she carried in a book bag and a small purse that she wore across the front of her body. The remainder of her last two paychecks she stashed in her boot.

She glanced at the couple beside her, newlyweds, she guessed from the lip-lock and their Vegas standard issue matching gold bands. Her gaze darted to the man across the aisle. He sat quietly watching the couple, as he clutched his briefcase close to his side. His expression was dour, as though he disapproved of their public affection. He caught Liberty’s curious look and pulled his attaché closer to his side. Her choices for seating being severely limited, she shifted in her seat to look at the black retro wall clock and double-check the time. The soft whispers between the lovers reminded her of the mistake she’d almost made less than a year ago, just after her mother died.

***

“I suppose you’ll be expecting to move back home now that your mother’s gone.” She’d ridden in the funeral home’s limousine, not by choice, but by request from her father. Funerals were as much a public appearance for her father, as any other he showed up for in Vegas. Nothing was left to chance. Appearances meant everything to him, they always had. Today he extended his benevolent hand to her…in his own, controlling way. Just as she’d seen him manipulate her mother the last years of her life. Liberty knew his game. She’d observed it all her life and only as she’d gotten older, had she come to resent and rebel against it.

“Did your housemaid quit again?” she tossed at him, watching row after row of headstones pass by as they left the burial plot. The dank, gray day mirrored her mood.

“Now, see there. That’s what I’m talking about. I try to extend the olive branch, Liberty Belle, and you slap it out of my hand. The problem with you is that you never learned to appreciate everything I gave you.”

She responded with a snorting laugh. “You mean, I didn’t bow down and kiss your ass every time you decided to remember you had a family?”

His hand shot up, stopping short of smacking her across the face. She held his hard gaze with one of her own and saw the hate glittering in his black, soulless eyes. She’d discovered only recently the guilt her mother had carried inside her. Yet, for reasons unknown to Liberty, she wouldn’t leave him. Liberty had heard her mother’s pathetic attempts to appease his accusations from behind closed doors. She cringed at the anger in his voice, hated that her mother continued to take his abuse. So, she ran, as far away as possible. She’d never spoken to anyone about what she knew, fearing for her mother’s safety. That was weeks ago. Her mother had found a way out and Liberty no longer needed to be afraid. “You touch me and I swear you’ll be on the headlines of every paper in town.” She kept her voice calm.

He eyed her a moment, chuckled, and then lowered his hand, straightening his Armani tie. “Just like your mother.”

“Fortunately, she taught me more than you think, because I don’t need you, and I don’t need your money.”

He looked straight ahead, indifferent, in control. “You’ll feel differently when you see how much tuition is to that school of yours. Unfortunately, your mother, God-rest-her-soul, nullified her largely inadequate life insurance policy by virtue of how she chose to depart this world.”

She leaned forward and tapped on the smoke-glass window shielding them from the driver. The window rolled down. “Pull over here and stop.”

He looked over his shoulder, his expression hidden behind his mirrored sunglasses, but she caught the quirk at the corner of his mouth. She shook her head. There was nothing now holding her here. She wouldn’t bow to her father’s abusive control. “I said pull the goddamn car over.”

“Don’t be a fool. He can’t just stop. There are well over a hundred cars following us.”

Ignoring him, Liberty wrenched open the door. The limo came to an immediate stop. She stepped out, the mud from the rain earlier squishing into her heels and glanced back at the long procession of cars—not for her mother, but filled with those who bottom fed from her father’s many Vegas enterprises. She bent down, holding to the door with one hand. “You know, you may have given me your seed, but you have never been a father.”

He scooted across the seat; his dark, hateful gaze penetrated her heart. “You get back in the car, this instant you ungrateful—”

Liberty didn’t wait for the rest. She slammed the door in his face. A small victory in the memory of her mother against the man who’d pushed her into an early grave. The window rolled down part way as the car lurched forward. “You’ll regret this, Liberty. You could have had anything you wanted.”

“At what price?” she called out as the car carried him away. She didn’t care if anyone heard. They knew him well enough. She watched the faces of those in the cars that passed her. With each fearful glance, each look of pity, her resolve grew. Most of them lived in fear of his power. She’d just liberated herself from it. Overhead a clap of thunder reverberated in her chest and another rain shower washed down. She turned her face to the heavens, letting the water free her with its cleansing freshness. Pain, fear, and an unfathomable sense of loss, pierced her to the core. Her tears were lost in the torrent. But she opened her arms wide and spoke to the sky. “We’re free, momma. We’re finally free.”

A few weeks later, she’d enrolled at the university, taking full responsibility for her loans. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that the part-time waitress position wasn’t going to be enough to make ends meet. Then, like an answer to her silent prayers, she met the devil in the form of exotic Angelo Patreous. He and his friends often stopped in late at night after some of the clubs on the strip had closed. In comparison to the bleary-eyed drunks that frequented the diner, he was a god—tall, exotic, and oozing charm. Well-to-do, he owned several clubs in the area, and much to Liberty’s delight, he had no connection to her father. That alone appealed to her.

“You are a very lovely woman.” He would tell her, showing off his white even smile. She accepted his flirtatious praise and his generous tips for the expert way she’d serve his pancakes. One thing led to another and she found herself invited to one of his clubs, where he introduced her to his dancers. A few weeks later, she found herself headlining and earning enough to pay off what loans she’d accumulated, rent a nice apartment and convince herself as long as she could dance she didn’t need college.

***

“Do you have change for a dollar?”

The fresh-faced, new bride pulled Liberty from her reverie. “Oh, sorry. No. Maybe the attendant can help you?”

“Sure, thanks.” Her lover could barely let go of her as she struggled to stand.

Liberty readjusted her things, aware that the movement from the young woman had once more stirred the putrid air filtered in from unclean bathrooms. The arrogant looking dark-haired lady behind her shifted in her seat, assaulting Liberty with her sickly, sweet perfume. She spied a streetlight outside the murky, picture window, but decided she’d be safer inside, despite the intrusion to her senses.

Liberty watched as the giggling young woman return to her amorous husband. He wasted no time as he slipped into the men’s bathroom, and returned with a handful of condoms.

She looked away. Their reckless behavior reminded her too much of how she and Angelo once were. She’d been with him nearly three years, accepting the fact that his cut of the dancers wages were to help pay for overhead, new props, and costuming. She discovered though, through the grapevine that he possessed an expensive cocaine habit, and while he never made it obvious, she began to see the signs—the paranoia, the sleeplessness, the abuse. Angelo wouldn’t be happy when he found out that she’d snuck in his office and taken back her twenty percent cut. If she could get to this remote ranch, she’d have enough time to figure out what to do next.

She drew her jacket closer together and folded her arms over her chest as she looked around her. A low rumble echoed in the deserted streets, and she held her breath until the bus turned the corner. She released a sigh with the sound of its airbrakes as it pulled into the garage. The sooner she put some distance between her and this town, the better off she’d be.

“May I get this for you?” The dark-eyed man stood when she did. Liberty grabbed her duffle and swung it over her shoulder with the practiced ease of a combat soldier. Strength and agility were the rewards of her profession. “Thank you, no. I’ve got it.” She walked head high to the bus, and tossed it into the luggage compartment without the driver’s assistance.

“One bag, ma’am?” he queried and held out his hand for her ticket and ID She produced the information and waited as he eyed her and then the license. “That was taken six years ago.”

“Don’t forget to renew before your birthday.” He smiled and handed it back to her. “Welcome aboard. Your first transfer will be in Salt Lake at our six-fifty a.m. stop.”

She nodded her thanks, climbed onto the bus and searched for a quiet spot to sit where she wouldn’t be disturbed. She moved toward the back, away from the passengers at the front of the bus, and dropped her bag in the seat next to her. The dark-eyed man glanced at her, but ended up taking the seat next to the woman with the heavy perfume. The amorous couple, on the other hand, giggled and pawed at each other as they passed by her to sit at the very back of the bus.

It could be an interesting next few hours.

She pulled out her iPod, put in her ear buds and scanned through her music until she found
Heart’s Greatest Hits
.

Sometime later, startled awake by an odd sound, she realized one of her ear buds had slipped out. Her cheek felt cool to the touch, from where she’d slept with her face pressed against the window. Disoriented, she blinked, trying to determine how long she’d slept. She glanced at her watch, seeing the late hour and remembered that she was heading to god-knows-where-Montana. She peered down the aisle. Everyone on the bus, except the young couple in the back, were asleep.

“Aw honey, that’s it,” the male voice hissed quietly. A feminine sigh and a soft groan followed.

She didn’t need to look back to know anymore. Liberty shook her head. Maybe she was jealous. At least they had each other and despite their lack of propriety, they were clearly in love. Even so, she hoped that they’d get off at the next stop. A quiet male groan caused her to chuckle.

Or maybe sooner.

She repositioned the ear bud to stifle the sounds of their lovemaking and checked her phone. There were two missed calls both from Elaina, a friend of hers from work. She quickly punched in a text.

Are you home, and is everything okay? Has Angelo said anything to you?

A few moments passed before she received a text in response.
He did. But since you refused to say where you were going, it didn’t take long for him to give up. I don’t trust him, Libby. If cellphones can be traced, he’ll know who to pay to make it happen
.

***

By the time they pulled into Salt Lake, Liberty had deleted all contacts, messages, and calls received. Dropping her phone in an empty coffee cup, she replaced the plastic lid before discarding it in the trash outside the restaurant. She climbed on her transfer bus, glad that the couple, as well as the dark-eyed man who gave her the creeps, stayed on the other bus, bound for points further east.