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“I don’t appreciate being accused of arson, unlawful use of explosives and attempted murder by some Podunk sheriff,” he growled, pacing in a tight circle, clearly agitated.
As unobtrusively as possible, she peered under the partial walls that separated her cubicle from the other dressing rooms. No other feet in sight. No sounds except muffled voices from the front of the store. It wouldn’t do any good to scream. The young salesclerk would be more hindrance than help. Luke would be next door by now. Even if he was out front, attracting his attention would probably also bring Jen, and Sally would change her mind and gladly become Emmett Purnell’s sex slave rather than endanger her little girl.
Though her head was spinning, she got the impression he was waiting for her to say something. What did he expect? An apology? An excuse? The pounding inside her skull precluded any formal speech. Her gaze drifted back to the gap between the floor and the cubicle wall. It had to be at least twelve inches. She could fit through—though probably not gracefully.
Emmett pulled a short stool from the corner, positioned it in front of the door and dropped onto it, raking one hand across the back of his neck and then over his face. Unexpectedly, he sighed and fixed his gaze on her again.
Blinking her blurry vision into focus, Sally got her first good look at his face and stared in astonishment. “What happened to you?” Yellowish purple bruises and cuts covered him from chin to forehead. His lips were torn in at least three places. Knotted bruises dotted his jaw. On closer inspection, she noticed he held his left arm tight to his side, and he bent slightly at the waist, the other arm cradling his ribs. The man had clearly been beaten unmercifully, and she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach it had something to do with her.
“What happened?” she repeated, more forcefully this time.
Of all things…Emmett laughed, sounding almost embarrassed. “As pissed off as I was at you, that’s nothing compared to the whoop-ass I’m gonna give the old geezer who ambushed me outside the sheriff’s office this morning.”
Wait a minute.Waspissed off? Did that mean he was over being upset with her?
Sally was grasping at straws. “You were mugged?” She couldn’t help but wince at the ugly bruises and welts distorting his face.
“Not exactly. This was personal. The old man had a couple of thugs with him so he didn’t have to get his hands dirty.” Emmett’s swollen lips gave him a lisp, but his anger and scorn came through loud and clear.
Sally shifted nervously, trying to gauge whether she could roll out of her cubicle into the next, jump to her feet and escape before Emmett moved his stool from in front of the door, caught up to her and choked her to death in a fit of rage. The odds weren’t in her favor. Glancing in his direction, she saw that he was watching her intently…expectantly.
“Why are you here? You don’t think I had anything to do with the attack, do you?” She recoiled at the idea.
“I came to find you, but damned if I know why I bothered.” Emmett stared accusingly, then huffed a breath as though he couldn’t believe he was sitting across from her in a tiny women’s dressing room.
Join the club, buddy.
His gaze locked on hers. “The man that did this was looking for you, darlin’. I guess he thought I’d know where you were. Apparently, he doesn’t know about your boyfriend with the dog tags…yet, but you might want to give—Harding, is it?—a heads-up.”
Oh God. Clive Brennan wouldn’t think twice about doing that kind of damage to another human being if he thought it would gain him the answers he wanted. Instinctively, she shuttered her expression and feigned ignorance. “Looking for me? Who was he?”
Emmett slammed his knuckles against the wall, and Sally jumped. “Don’t test my patience, woman. I took this beating because the old man didn’t believe me when I told him I knew nothing about a fire or where you’d disappeared to, but he made it crystal clear it was very important he find you. Call me suspicious, but I didn’t get a good vibe for why he wanted you.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I might have had too much to drink last night and I might have acted like a jerk. I’m not apologizing, mind you. It is what it is, but if he’s looking for you…well, I decided I’d find you first.”
Surprise cracked the walls she’d erected around herself. “You came to warn me?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I have my moments. Are you going to tell me who the son of a bitch is?”
A ghost of a smile threatened, and Sally ducked her head until she wiped it away. Under the cubicle door, she spotted a pair of military boots two or three feet away. Motionless and silent, Luke waited, no doubt listening to every word. She should have known. Relief surged through her, and she turned her gaze back to Emmett so he wouldn’t become curious about why she was staring.
“What did he look like?”
“Late sixties, gray hair, glasses, five-ten or so, thin, wore a dark trench coat. The two ballbusters he had with him were hard-core. Spoke with heavy accents. Russian, I think.”
Sally nodded once. There didn’t seem to be any reason to lie. This would be the second time in a matter of hours she’d spoken aloud the truth she’d kept buried for over ten years, and the words still came hard. “His name is Clive Brennan. It’s possible he’s a spy—I’m not sure. What I know is, he murdered a family in Mississippi years ago, and I testified against him. He went to prison and the feds put me in my own glass cage—witness protection. Clive was released three months ago. I’d hoped he would get on with his life and forget about me.” She hadn’t been totally honest with Luke when she told him, and she wasn’t about to confide her most shameful secret to Emmett—that Clive was her father and not likely to ever forget her betrayal.
Emmett grunted. “Apparently, he still wants something from you—damn bad. Like I said…it seems personal. My advice is to leave the state. Get as far away as you can. Go somewhere he’d never think to look for you. Maybe he’ll give up.”
Sally’s gaze flicked over his mutilated face. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this, Emmett. Sorry you had to come all this way. How did you find us anyway?”
“Once I found out your friend Luke was Garrett Harding’s brother and that Garrett’s Jeep wasn’t anywhere around Cougar Ridge, I contacted a few friends of mine and put out the word. Didn’t take them long to spot the vehicle, and I flew one of the company helos up. Then I just waited for Harding to leave you alone. I was beginning to think he’d never let loose of you.”
“It won’t happen again.” Luke’s sudden addition to the conversation from outside the dressing room startled Sally, even though she’d known he was close by.
The anger seemed to have left Emmett’s face as they’d talked, but now that Luke stood outside the door, Sally studied Emmett carefully for any sign of the short fuse she’d come to know.
“Well, Harding, I was wondering how long you’d leave us unattended.” Emmett seemed to enjoy trying to rile him.
Luke’s boots moved closer to the door, and he tapped on the wall with something hard. “You want to step out here, or should I come in?”
