Chapter Eleven #2
He drove like a maniac, ignoring red lights and speed limits.
Kill her, maybe. Those three words drummed in his head over and over so that he didn’t notice the speedometer hovering at a hundred and ten.
The streets were deserted. People were asleep, anticipating the race tomorrow.
Some would already be camped on the infield grass.
He prayed that Erin was asleep as well. And when she woke he would be there.
Gravel spit from under the tires as he braked behind the stables. Vans were parked there for trainers, for owners who preferred to stay close to their horses, for grooms and hands who could afford a little luxury.
He only needed to find one.
He started across the lot when he heard steps behind him. Fists clenched and murder on his mind, he whirled.
“Easy, lad,” Paddy told him. “Travis called me.”
He nodded briefly, though in the moonlight he could see that the old man hadn’t slept, either. “Durnam’s van. Which is it?”
“Durnam? Travis said you didn’t know which.”
“Call it a hunch. Which one is Durnam’s?”
“The big black one there.” Paddy turned as he heard the whine of sirens. “The police are coming.” But Burke was already racing to the black van.
“Erin!” The door held fast. For a moment he thought he could tear it off with his bare hands.
“Use this.” Paddy handed him a crowbar. “When Travis called and filled me in, I thought we’d have use for it.”
Without hesitation, Burke began to pry the door open, all the time calling to her.
He wanted her to know it was him. He couldn’t stand the thought of her having one more instant of fear.
The metal groaned, fought back, then gave.
Burke gripped the crowbar like a weapon as he jumped inside.
He shoved away the plywood partition that separated the back of the van from the cab.
“Erin?” There was no answer, no sound. What if he was too late? Burke turned the crowbar in his hands, wiping sweat on metal. “Erin, it’s all right. I’ve come to take you out of here.” He cursed the lack of light and dropped to his hands and knees. He saw her then, curled in a corner in the rear.
He was with her in an instant, but he was almost afraid to touch her. His hand went to her cheek first. So cold, so still. “Erin.” In a fit of rage, he tore the gag away. When her eyes fluttered open, he nearly wept with relief. “Erin, it’s all right.”
But when he reached for her she cringed, making small sounds in her throat.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. It’s Burke, darling, it’s okay now.”
“Burke.” Her eyes were still glazed with shock, but she said his name.
“That’s right, and I’m going to take you out of here.” He shifted her, cursing under his breath each time she whimpered. Her trembles became shudders that none of his soothing words could halt.
He found the ropes, but when he started to loosen them she cried out. “I’m sorry. I have to get them off. I don’t want to hurt you. Can you stay very still?”
She simply turned her face to the wall.
The van shook as men entered, and she pressed back in the corner. “I need a knife.” He looked up and saw Lieutenant Hallinger. “Give me a damn knife, then get out. She’s terrified.”
Hallinger reached in his pocket with one hand and signaled his men back with the other.
“Just hold on, Irish, it’s all over now.” He hurt her. He could feel each jerk and tremble inside his own body as he cut through the bonds. Both his skin and hers were damp before he had freed her feet as well. “I’m going to pick you up and carry you out. Just stay still.”
“My arms.” She bit her lip, as even the gentlest touch sent the pain throbbing.
“I know.” As carefully as he could, he lifted her up. She moaned and pressed her face against his shoulder.
When they stepped outside, the lot was bright with lights. Erin squeezed her burning eyes shut. She couldn’t think beyond the pain and fear, and concentrated on the sound of Burke’s voice.
“You stay the hell away from her,” he said very quietly, his eyes on Hallinger.
“I called an ambulance.” Travis stepped between Burke and the police. “It’s here now. Paddy and I will follow you.”
As if in a dream, Erin felt herself laid down.
The light was still too bright, so she kept her eyes closed.
There were voices, too many voices, but she focused in on the only one that mattered.
She jolted as she felt something cool over the raw skin of her wrist, but Burke stroked her hair and never stopped talking to her.
He didn’t know what he said. Promises, vows, nonsense. But he could see the dried blood on her wrists and ankles and the bruises that ran up her arms. Each time she winced, he thought of Durnam. And how he would kill him.
“In the stables,” she murmured. “I heard them in the stables, talking about drugging the horse.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Burke kept stroking her hair.
“In the stables,” she repeated in a voice that was thin and tended to float. “I couldn’t get away. I tried.”
“You’re safe now. Just lie still.”
They wouldn’t let him go with her. Erin was wheeled away the moment they reached the hospital, and Burke was left helpless and hurting in the hallway.
“She’s going to be all right.” Travis laid a hand on his shoulder.
Burke nodded. The ambulance attendants had already assured him of that. Her wrists were the worst of her physical injuries. They would heal, just as the bruises would fade. But no one knew how badly she’d been scarred emotionally.
“Stay with her. There’s something I have to do.”
“Burke, you’ll do her more good here. And yourself.”
“Just stay with her,” he repeated, then strode out through the wide glass doors.
He kept his mind carefully blank as he drove out to Durnam’s farm. The rage was there, but he held it, knowing it would cloud his thinking. So he thought of nothing, and his mind stayed as cool as the early-morning air.
The thirty-minute drive took him fifteen, but still the police were faster. Burke slammed out of his car in front of Durnam’s palatial stone house and faced Hallinger once again.
“Thought I’d see you here tonight.” Hallinger lit one of the five cigarettes he allowed himself—which was five more than his wife knew about. “Figured a sharp man like you would have already put it together that Durnam was the one who had your horse drugged.”
“Yeah, I put that together. Where is he?”
“He’s my guest tonight.” Hallinger blew out smoke and leaned against the hood of Burke’s car.
If the footbath didn’t work, he was going to have to go see the damned podiatrist. “You know, sometimes cops have brains, too. We were here questioning Durnam when the call came in that you were on your way to the track to get your wife.”
“Why?”
“Well, assuming that your wife’s disappearance had something to do with the trouble last week, which was a big assumption, I had to figure out who had the most to gain. That would be Durnam. I take it you’d already worked that out.”
“I had everything but proof.”
“We’ve got that now, too. The man was already on the edge. Our call coming in was all it took to push him over. He’d cleaned out his bank account, what was left of it. Knew that, did you?”
“Yeah, I knew that.”
“Had his bags packed. But he wasn’t going to miss that race tomorrow. Today,” Hallinger corrected with a glance up at the lightening sky. “He wanted that Derby win bad. Funny how people can set their minds on one thing and forget about the consequences. How’s your wife?”
“She’s hurt. Where are you keeping him?”
“That’s police business now, Mr. Logan.” He examined his cigarette thoughtfully before taking another drag. “I know how you feel.”
Burke cut him off with a look. “You don’t know how I feel.”
Hallinger nodded slowly. “You’re right. And I doubt you’re in the mood for advice, but here it is.
You haven’t been a Boy Scout, Logan.” He smiled, a little sourly, when Burke only continued to stare at him.
“I make it my business to check details. You’ve had a few scrapes in your time.
Some bad luck and some good. Right now I’d say you’ve got yourself a good woman and a chance to make things click.
Don’t blow it on something as pitiful as Charles Durnam.
He lost a hell of a lot more than a horse race. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” Burke pulled open the door of his car, then paused to turn back. “He gets out in a year, in twenty years—he’s dead.”
With some regret, Hallinger flipped the butt of his cigarette away. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When Erin awoke, she opened her eyes cautiously. The hospital. The wave of relief came as it did every time she awoke to find herself safe. The light beside her bed was still burning. She’d hated to be weak, but had insisted the nurse leave it on even when the sun was coming up.
Burke hadn’t been there. She’d fretted and asked for him, but they’d wheeled her to a private room and tucked her into bed, promising he’d be with her soon. She was to sleep, to relax, she wasn’t to worry.
But she wanted him.
Listless, she turned her head. There were already flowers in the room. She imagined Travis or Paddy had seen to that. They’d been so kind.
But she wanted Burke.
Shifting in search of comfort, she pushed herself up in bed. And she saw him. He was standing by the window, his back to her. Everything fled but the pleasure of knowing he was there with her.
“Burke.”
He turned immediately. His first thought was that she was sitting up and her cheeks were no longer pale. His second thought was that if it hadn’t been for him she wouldn’t be in a hospital bed with bandages on her wrists. Because she was holding out a hand, he went to her and touched it lightly.
“You’re looking better,” he said inadequately.
“I’m feeling better. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I’ve been around awhile. Do you want anything?”
“I could eat.” She smiled and reached for his hand again, but his was in his pocket.
“I’ll get the nurse.”