“Who?” She whirled to confront him, anger rising like a vice around her neck. He had no right to invade her home. “If you’re talking about Sam—”
“Your kid?” Lyle shook his head as if trying to clear a fog. He hadn’t changed much over the last twelve months, still lean and rugged looking with shoulder-length brown hair and a mustache. He’d always been a little stoop-shouldered, his gait like a flat-footed bird when he walked. “I’m looking for Flynn. I heard you’re with him.”
Ryan? Had he lost his head? “What are you talking about?”
“I want to settle things once and for all.” He gripped her arm above the elbow, pressing hard. “Tell me where he is.”
A sliver of fear twined with the anger in her blood. He’d never raised a hand against her, but he’d done his share of cussing and tossing verbal threats. “It’s none of your business who I see.”
Lyle barked with laughter. “You think I care who crawls between the sheets with you? Hell, woman, I don’t give a flying fuck. But that bastard is going to pay for what he did.”
He wasn’t making sense. Lach Evening said his mind was messed up, and these insane ramblings were proof. “Look, Lyle, you need to leave.” She tried to pull away, but he held fast. “There’s a man in town who’s looking for you. You need to talk to Lach Evening.”
He recoiled as if she’d said something repugnant. Tromping backward, he ripped a hand through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Flynn took her from me. Nothing to change that.” He mumbled the words, a flurry of nonsense tumbling out in an eerily repetitive string. “Told her he was no good…out of her league…should have listened to me…not going anywhere…took her from me…”
Gooseflesh pimpled her arms.
Katie backed toward the door. Lyle babbled, pacing off tighter and tighter circles. Another few inches and she would be free. She’d left her car keys on the table with her purse, but she was a fast runner. Had always been faster than him.
Spurred by a burst of panic, she sprinted through the front door and onto the lawn. Never slowing to see if he followed, she raced for the street. She’d reached the end of her driveway when she spied a battered white T-bird across the road. In the second it took for her to register the vehicle, Lyle caught her. Grasping her firmly on the arm, he wrenched her around to face him.
“Don’t think this is over.” He shook her hard, his gaze feverish in the glare of the sun. “Tell your boyfriend I’m going to even the score. Tell him he shouldn’t have treated her like he did.”
Fear bubbled up in her throat. “Lyle—”
Grunting something unintelligible, he shoved her to the ground.
She scrambled to her hands and knees, ignoring the sting in her palms. “Lyle!”
Ignoring her, he bolted for the T-bird. Seconds later, the battered car disappeared down the street, its exhaust coughing black smoke.
A Thunderbird, not a van. He wasn’t the one who’d been staking out her house, but he was after Ryan. She raced inside for the phone, never bothering to close the door. Quickly, she dialed the sheriff’s office.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Lynch,” the deputy who answered told her. “Sergeant Flynn is out right now.”
Her stomach plummeted. “What about Caden?”
“He’s out too. Do you want me to have Ryan call you when he gets back?”
“Yes, please.” She clutched the phone cord tightly in her hand, trying to still the erratic beat of her heart. “Tell him it’s urgent.”
“I’ll radio him for you.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
After hanging up, she tented both hands over her mouth and counted to ten, breathing deeply. He would call soon. He had to call.
“Excuse me.” A man said behind her.
She whirled to find Lach Evening standing in the open doorway.
“Forgive me for intruding, but I noticed the door was open.”
“Why are you here?” The question came out far blunter than she’d intended. Her nerves were shot and her heart danced a chaotic rhythm. The man annoyed her, too proper and calm, as if he’d simply been out for an afternoon stroll.
“I was hoping to learn more about Lyle.”
“Such as he’s driving a white Thunderbird and left here under five minutes ago?” Her voice dripped acid as she strode toward him, hands on her hips.
Evening appeared taken aback. “Did you get a license plate number?”
“No, I didn’t.” She practically screamed in his face. “He was out of control, talking like a mad man.”
“I’m sorry. He came to hurt you.”
“No. You have it all wrong.” She shook her head empathically, exasperated the man who’d caused Lyle’s meltdown was clueless as to his real intent. “He wasn’t looking for me. He’s after Ryan.”
“Sergeant Flynn?” Evening’s brows pinched together. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either, but he seems to think Ryan did something to him. He kept talking about a girl.” She wet her lips, her mind doing cartwheels as she sorted the possibilities. “Maybe someone Ryan dated in the past.” While she doubted Lyle posed any true threat to an experienced lawman like Ryan, she couldn’t help worrying her ex was capable of doing something crazy. All it took was a moment of surprise with a gun or a knife to tip the balance in Lyle’s favor.
“Very well, Ms. Lynch. I’m sorry if the situation has distressed you in any way.” Evening stepped onto the front porch.
“Distressed me?” She followed and watched as he walked down the driveway to a sleek black car. “You need to find Lyle and fix whatever you did to him.” She jabbed a finger at his back. “Whether it’s me or someone else, Lyle was acting crazy.”
“I’m well aware of that. Good day, Ms. Lynch.” Evening ducked into the car and closed the door.
Flabbergasted, she watched the vehicle back out of the drive and wind down the road. Her frustration melted into relief when the phone rang. Praying it was Ryan, she raced into the house.