“When we spoke at the hospital,” Larson continued, “you were convinced Bridger was the man who abducted Ms. Shane. You thought he might have been looking for information about where to find you.”
Tory’s hand trembled where it rested on the table. “I don’t know, I . . . I thought it was possible, but you said he had an alibi. I don’t know Patty Daniels. Why do you think she’s connected to me?”
Larson looked at Josh, who reached over and caught her hand, quieting the tremors. “She was your size, honey. And she had your same red hair.”
Her breath froze. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. “Oh, my God. You think Damon murdered that girl because she looked like me?” She shook her head. “I know Damon’s crazy, but surely he wouldn’t . . . wouldn’t . . .”
“You use the word ‘crazy,’” Larson said. “You think he’s mentally unbalanced?”
She dragged in a shaky breath and fought to collect her thoughts.
Josh squeezed her hand. “Just take your time, honey.”
“Damon wasn’t . . . he wasn’t that way at first. He seemed like this really great guy. I don’t know how he fooled me so completely.”
For the next twenty minutes, she told the detective how Damon had changed, how he had abused her, beaten her, and stalked her. How he had threatened her until she’d had no choice but to run.
“The police did their best, but there are laws they have to follow and Damon is smart.” She told him about the kitten he had murdered and the dog he had killed.
“He seemed to get some kind of sick pleasure out of it. He seemed to enjoy inflicting pain. All the time he was beating me, he was grinning.”
“My captain didn’t want me coming out here,” Larson said. “There’s no evidence, nothing except for his attack on you to make Bridger a person of interest. But I have a feeling about this guy. I wanted to hear what you had to say.”
“Bridger’s obsessed with Tory,” Josh said. “They were engaged, which he seems to believe gives him ownership. There’s a good chance he hired a group of bikers to vandalize the ranch. He’s probably behind the identity theft I just had to deal with. If it was Bridger—and I’m betting it was—he hasn’t given up. He still wants Tory, and he’ll do anything to get her.”
“He may have substituted another victim for the woman he wants,” Detective Larson said. “If you’re right, Damon Bridger is a very dangerous man.”
*
Larson left the ranch determined to find out if Bridger was the man behind the attack on Lisa Shane and the red-haired woman who had been murdered. According to Larson, Damon had no alibi for the night the girl had gone missing. He was home in bed that night, he’d said.
But there was nothing illegal about him sleeping in his own bed and no evidence he had left the house anytime before morning, so he remained in the clear.
Aside from Tory’s suspicions and Detective Larson’s hunch, the police had no reason to believe Damon was involved. Add to that, his father’s money and powerful position in the community made him a formidable opponent. Without some kind of evidence, there wasn’t anything the police could do.
Josh was worried. The quagmire they were entangled in was getting deeper and stickier. When Cole and Noah rode their ATVs up in front of the barn at the end of the day, Josh walked over to speak to them.
“What’s going on?” Noah asked at the solemn look on his face.
“A detective named Larson flew in from Phoenix to talk to Tory. You remember that girl I told you about who went missing?”
Noah nodded. Cole’s features darkened. “The waitress who looked like Tory?” he asked.
“That’s the one. She turned up dead. Good chance it’s the same guy who abducted Tory’s friend Lisa.”
“Cops think it’s Tory’s ex?” Noah asked.
“Cops don’t know what to think. Larson’s gut says it’s Bridger. He thinks Tory could be in danger. So do I.”
Cole lifted his baseball cap and scratched his blond head. He surveyed the vast grasslands around them, the ravines overflowing with thick dark green shrubs, the deep woods, and thickets of trees.
“Lot of land to cover. We can keep watch for Bridger, but there’s still a guy out there who murdered two soldiers and might be coming after you. Until the feds make an arrest, maybe you should put on a few more men.”
“I plan to,” Josh said. “Just wanted to bring you up to speed.”
“We’ll stay alert.” The men put up their gear and headed home for the day.
Mrs. T. brought Ivy home and Tory worked on supper. When Josh walked into the house, the smell of roast beef hit him and his stomach growled. He heard small feet and looked up to see Ivy running toward him.
“Look, Josh! I you made a picture! It’s you and me and Mama and Star!”
Josh swept the little girl up against his chest and took the sheet of paper from her hand. In a crayon drawing colored in red, yellow, and green, he was as big as the stallion. He had a hand on each of the females’ shoulders. Clearly, he was protecting them.
His chest clamped down. He wasn’t ready for this. He still had nightmares about the men he hadn’t been able to protect. He would never forget a single soldier’s face. He’d come back to Texas to escape that kind of responsibility.
How had he gotten in so deep? More important, what was he going to do about it?
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he said. “We’ll put it up on the fridge.” Setting Ivy back on her feet, he walked over to the refrigerator, took down a magnet that looked like a cowboy hat, and used it to hold up the drawing. “There. That looks nice.”
Ivy grinned, turned, and raced back into the living room just as Tory walked in, her gaze following the path her daughter had taken directly away from him.
“You saved her,” she said softly. “I was afraid she would never be able to trust a man again, but she trusts you. You saved her.” She looked up at him. “You saved us both.”
His chest tightened. He felt as if the walls were closing in. “I don’t want to be your savior, Tory. I don’t want to be anyone’s savior.” Turning, he walked out of the kitchen, crossed the living room, and walked out of the house.
*
Josh didn’t come over that night. Tory could sense his restlessness, his frustration. He felt boxed in, a man at the end of a chain. Two of his friends had been murdered. There was a chance he was on the killer’s hit list. Add to that, he felt responsible for her and Ivy.
Detective Larson believed Damon had murdered Patty Daniels because she looked like Tory. Now that Damon knew where to find her, how long before he came after her?
As she lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, she tried not to think of Lisa and what she had suffered, tried not to think of the girl who had been tortured and killed.
Was it Damon? And if so, was Tory the woman he really wanted to murder?
She was exhausted when she crawled out of bed the next morning. She fed Ivy, then they went over to fix Josh’s breakfast. He was gone when she arrived, already outside hard at work.
She made French toast and stuck it in the oven, made him a sack lunch, then took Ivy back to the trailer. With so much worry, it was hard to concentrate on the little girl’s morning lesson, but Ivy was smart and she loved to learn. Tory somehow managed to get through it.
Later in the morning, she drove Ivy over to Mrs. Thompson’s. She knew Josh didn’t like her going even that far from the house, but it was only the end of the road and according to Hamilton Brown, Damon was still in Phoenix.
“Let’s work in the garden before it gets too hot,” Clara Thompson said to Ivy. Inside the big old white house it was cool, but outside the sun beat down fiercely. They might work outdoors for a while, but Tory figured they wouldn’t last long.
“After lunch, we can have fun with letters and numbers, and I checked a book out of the library for us to read.”
“A cat book or a dog book?” Ivy loved dogs. She asked for one every year for Christmas but it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“It’s a dog book. Doozy Hound Goes to the City.”
Ivy grinned. “Doozy Hound. That sound good.” Ivy ran into the living room while Mrs. Thompson walked Tory to the door.