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The Texas Ranger

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Год написания книги
2018
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“Do you remember any of your time…before you were rescued?”

“I have vague memories of fear and panic, that terrible fear of being trapped and unable to escape. It’s not clear. Nothing is clear except the feelings. They’ve never left me. If I could remember anything helpful, Sam, I’d tell you. God knows, I’d like to know that the man responsible is locked away behind bars. He needs to pay for all the horror he inflicted on the other women he abducted. The ones who didn’t escape. If it hadn’t been for Kaiser…”

“Kaiser?”

“Kaiser was Gus’s sire. Somehow he managed to track me. I remember hearing him bark, and I screamed and screamed. And I can remember suddenly seeing the sky. Then nothing until later in my hospital room. Gabe and Mother were there. Big blocks of time are gone. The doctors say it’s not uncommon and that I may never remember.”

“Did you see a therapist afterward?”

“For years. Two different ones.”

“Did you ever try hypnosis?”

Skye nodded. “Early on. It didn’t help.”

“Would you be willing to try again now?”

She hesitated and swallowed down the bile building in her throat. “I would need to think about it. It’s not that I don’t want to be helpful. It’s simply that I became extremely agitated during the hypnosis and I had terrible nightmares afterward.”

“I’m certainly no expert in the area, but I understand that we can secure one of the best in the state who has helped in numerous cases.”

“But any information that I might give you while under hypnosis isn’t admissible in court, is it?”

Sam frowned. “I’m not sure about that. But I do know that right now we have absolutely no leads at all. Any information you could give us would be better than what we have now. Maybe we could build a case without your testimony. Let me ask you something. Do you remember anybody hanging around your apartment before that morning? This guy had to have been watching you.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.”

Sam asked her several other questions, and she answered as best she could, but mostly she was a blank. Her head began to pound. She hadn’t had a migraine in a while, but she could feel one coming on.

“Sam, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I can talk about it anymore. I’m getting a splitting headache.”

He closed his notebook and turned off the recorder. “I understand. I’ll leave now. Maybe we can get together this weekend.”

“I don’t think I’ll have any more to tell you.”

“I wasn’t talking about the case. I meant maybe we could go out or something.”

That should have pleased her, but the pain in her head took all her attention. “Call me,” she said, and fled to her bedroom for medication.

SAM TALKED WITH GABE for a while about Skye’s kidnapping, but he didn’t have anything to add that wasn’t in the reports he’d read. Except recounting the horror of it.

“Was Skye able to tell you anything helpful?” Gabe asked.

“Not really. She was nervous as a cat, and just talking about it gave her a bad headache.”

“A migraine. Damn. It’ll lay her low for several hours. She hasn’t had one in a while.”

“Man, I’m sorry about that. But I had to talk to her.”

Gabe shrugged. “I’m not blaming you for doing your job.”

After Sam left, he headed downtown to see Belle’s office. He’d been promising her that he’d drop by sometime. Wimberley was a pretty little town full of old rednecks, an artsy crowd plus a new influx of retirees and folks attracted to the charm of a small town and the bucks to be made with the booming tourist trade.

He followed Ranch Road 12 toward the square, passing over the bridge where Cypress Creek had smoothed the limestone boulders along its bumpy path. Not that he could see anything square about the square. There was a crooked Y in the road and a couple of streets off to one side with a bunch of shops and restaurants painted different colors. His mother would call the town picturesque.

He found the Wimberley Star office down one of the side streets and parked out front. Belle liked it here. Mostly he figured that Belle liked it here because Gabe was here.

Gabe was a good guy.

And Skye…

Skye was spectacular. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. Sam wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to do it, but somehow, some way, he was going to track down the bastard who had screwed up her life and put him behind bars.

Chapter Five

On Friday morning, Skye was just finishing up a surgery when Napoleon said, “You have a phone call on line two. That Ranger man. You want to call him back?”

“No, I’ll take it. I’m done here. Would you put Buster back in his cage?”

Napoleon nodded and gently lifted the cat while she stripped off her gloves and picked up the phone.

“Hi, Sam. This is Skye.”

“Hope I didn’t get you at a bad time.”

“No. I have a minute, but I have to tell you that I haven’t made a decision yet.”

“I’m not pressuring you,” Sam said. “And the call isn’t business. It’s personal. Belle was telling me that she and Gabe often go dancing at a place called Fancy’s on Friday nights. I was wondering if you might like to go tonight. With me. And with Gabe and Belle.”

“Oh, Sam, I don’t know. It might be fun, but I haven’t been dancing since—Well, I haven’t been in a long time. I doubt if I remember how to two-step. I don’t go out much.”

“Well, darlin’, it’s time you started. And I’m a two-steppin’ terror. It’ll all come back to you. I’ll be there about seven. Maybe we can grab a bite somewhere. Listen, I gotta run. See you tonight.”

He hung up before she could protest further. She couldn’t go out dancing. There would be a mob of people there. Just the thought of going out into such a setting was enough to make her break out in hives. It had taken her months to be comfortable going to church surrounded by her whole family and sitting in the balcony with Gus and two bodyguards. She could handle lunch with Gabe and Gus at a small, familiar café, and she’d come a long way in going to yoga class with Belle and Gus, but dancing at Fancy’s? A zoo would be calm and quiet compared to that place on Friday night. No way. She’d have to call him back and cancel.

But she didn’t know where to call, and she got busy. The next thing she knew it was noon.

Everybody usually congregated at the house for lunch, even Napoleon, who could eat more than any three men, and there was always a big spread, plenty for drop-ins. Belle had picked up Flora from the Firefly, an art gallery that displayed her soul paintings, and joined them for the meal.

When Skye was about halfway through her salad, her mother said, “I’m definitely buying the Firefly. Mason and I are signing the papers this afternoon, and I’m taking over on Monday.”

“Fantastic!” Belle said.

“Mom,” Gabe said, “are you sure that’s not too much for you? Running an art gallery is demanding.”

“Oh, fiddle, there’s nothing demanding about it. Mostly I just sit there and paint until someone wanders in. I’m hiring Grace Winslet to work part time, including some weekends, and her daughter is going to help out, too. She’s a junior over at Texas State and needs a job. Misty, her name is. Very responsible girl.”

Skye said, “Mom, I think you should do what makes you happy.”
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