was the night he’d found her staggering in the police parking lot, sick as a dog from some bug and about to pass out. Then, when Marsha turned up missing, it had been Cat’s persistence that had led the police to Marsha’s body, as well as to her killer, and Wilson had been with her all the way. He’d seen her stand as strong through that hell as any man—maybe even stronger—and all through it, the passion between them had simmered. When they’d finally made love, it had been more than lust for Wilson. He had known, almost from the start, that she was going to be something special to him. But he and Cat had been on separate pages when it came to their futures. He’d made love to a woman who was stealing his heart. She’d just had sex with a willing participant. When he’d “paid” her for their last session of sex, he’d promised himself it would be their last contact.
Now this.
He couldn’t have her in his life and remain sane. He needed his head examined for caring about what she was doing, but what she’d done was dangerous, and, God help him, he couldn’t live with himself if she got herself killed and he did nothing about it.
Suddenly his anger peaked. He grabbed the phone. Art had said she wasn’t answering her cell, so he was leaving his message on her home phone. When he dialed her number this time, it was no mistake. He listened to the rings, then took a breath when he heard her voice on the answering machine. As soon as the message beeped, he started talking.
“You made the news tonight. I’d congratulate you on your heroism, but at the moment I’m too damned pissed at your stupidity. I talked to Art. I know what you’re doing. And, just so you know, I’m not calling to meddle in your damned business. However…going off alone like this to chase a fucking ghost isn’t just stupid, it’s dangerous. You got lucky when you found Marsha’s body. It gave you a chance to bring her back and give her a proper burial. So you brought one killer to justice. Good for you, Dupree. However, if this bastard you’re chasing happens to still be alive, it might do you well to remember that when he killed your father, he also cut your damned throat. You survived him once. You might not be as lucky another time. I don’t know why I care. I wish to hell I didn’t. And just for the record, woman, if it hadn’t been for that piece of film on tonight’s news, I wouldn’t have the slightest notion of where in hell to look for your bones. It’s obvious you don’t give a damn about me, yourself or anyone else. I wish to hell I could return the favor.”
His hands were shaking when he hung up. He sat there for a moment longer while his vision blurred and his belly burned. Then he pushed himself up from the sofa.
The apartment was in complete darkness, lit only by the nightlight in the hall and the faint glow of a security light outside the kitchen window. He stood within the shadowy silence, barely aware of the night sounds from the city beyond. All he could hear was the steady thump of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Cat had opted to spend one last night in Texas and then cross the border in the morning, but when she’d come back from the gas station where she’d gone to make a pit stop and fuel up, what she’d seen on the laptop had changed her mind.
The blip that had been stationary for so long was, once again, on the move, but it had changed directions. It was no longer headed toward the coast but had begun moving in a northwesterly direction. Nuevo Laredo was just across the border, but after that it was mostly small villages and a lot of sand and cactus and mountains in the direction the blip was now moving.
She didn’t think of the dangers she could be putting herself in by driving through the desert at night. The only thing on her mind was catching up with whoever was carrying some of Mark Presley’s property. If it turned out that this trip
Now this.
He couldn’t have her in his life and remain sane. He needed his head examined for caring about what she was doing, but what she’d done was dangerous, and, God help him, he couldn’t live with himself if she got herself killed and he did nothing about it.
Suddenly his anger peaked. He grabbed the phone. Art had said she wasn’t answering her cell, so he was leaving his message on her home phone. When he dialed her number this time, it was no mistake. He listened to the rings, then took a breath when he heard her voice on the answering machine. As soon as the message beeped, he started talking.
“You made the news tonight. I’d congratulate you on your heroism, but at the moment I’m too damned pissed at your stupidity. I talked to Art. I know what you’re doing. And, just so you know, I’m not calling to meddle in your damned business. However…going off alone like this to chase a fucking ghost isn’t just stupid, it’s dangerous. You got lucky when you found Marsha’s body. It gave you a chance to bring her back and give her a proper burial. So you brought one killer to justice. Good for you, Dupree. However, if this bastard you’re chasing happens to still be alive, it might do you well to remember that when he killed your father, he also cut your damned throat. You survived him once. You might not be as lucky another time. I don’t know why I care. I wish to hell I didn’t. And just for the record, woman, if it hadn’t been for that piece of film on tonight’s news, I wouldn’t have the slightest notion of where in hell to look for your bones. It’s obvious you don’t give a damn about me, yourself or anyone else. I wish to hell I could return the favor.”
His hands were shaking when he hung up. He sat there for a moment longer while his vision blurred and his belly burned. Then he pushed himself up from the sofa.
The apartment was in complete darkness, lit only by the nightlight in the hall and the faint glow of a security light outside the kitchen window. He stood within the shadowy silence, barely aware of the night sounds from the city beyond. All he could hear was the steady thump of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Cat had opted to spend one last night in Texas and then cross the border in the morning, but when she’d come back from the gas station where she’d gone to make a pit stop and fuel up, what she’d seen on the laptop had changed her mind.
The blip that had been stationary for so long was, once again, on the move, but it had changed directions. It was no longer headed toward the coast but had begun moving in a northwesterly direction. Nuevo Laredo was just across the border, but after that it was mostly small villages and a lot of sand and cactus and mountains in the direction the blip was now moving.
She didn’t think of the dangers she could be putting herself in by driving through the desert at night. The only thing on her mind was catching up with whoever was carrying some of Mark Presley’s property. If it turned out that this trip
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