Silk and Spurs Page 10

He called out to Jessie again. No answer. He strode around the building, calling her name. He looked in windows, squinting to see in the darkness, but he didn’t find her.

  The sound of an engine broke his concentration and he looked to see Wyatt’s truck driving up the road and he parked beside Zane’s vehicle.

  “What’s going on?” Wyatt asked when he saw Zane coming around the corner of the building. “Where’s Jessie?”

  Zane shook his head. “She’s not here.” His expression grim, he pointed to multiple footprints and the extra set of tire tracks. “Someone else was here, though.”

  “She came in her car,” Wyatt said, “But it looks like she left with someone else.”

  “What the hell happened here?” A sense of fear for Jessie rose up in Zane. “What happened to her?”

  “Damn.” Wyatt dragged his hand down his stubbled face.

  Zane thought for a moment. “There might be a man involved.”

  With a frown, Wyatt said, “What man?”

  Zane let out a breath. “Jessie took photos of Phoebe kissing another man.”

  Wyatt narrowed his eyes.

  “While she was still engaged to me,” Zane said. “I saw the photos and the kiss wasn’t innocent.”

  Wyatt sucked in air through his teeth. “Anything else?”

  Zane shook his head. “I’m wondering if this guy has anything to do with Phoebe, the gunshots, and now Jessie missing.” Zane clenched his jaw as he made a decision. “I’m going to Phoebe’s place,” he said. “If she knows anything about this, I will find out.”

  • • •

  The drive to Phoebe’s home from the ghost towns took too damn long. His mind kept churning, his heart pounding, and a sick feeling settled in his gut. Jessie had left her car and had gone off with someone else. Why? Had she been kidnapped?

  A black sports car was parked out front of Phoebe’s house. The vehicle had fresh mud on its tires and the sides were splattered with mud. The car looked familiar, like he’d seen it before, but he probably hadn’t.

  His windshield wipers came to a stop in mid-wipe as he parked his truck and cut the engine He strode up to the front door, rain drizzling on him. Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open.

  Phoebe was standing in the doorway, a box in her hands. Her hair was damp and wild looking, unlike how she usually kept it, which was smooth, nearly perfect.

  Her eyes widened when she saw Zane there and her mouth opened and closed without saying anything.

  “What’s going on?” His gut tightened when he saw Phoebe flinch.

  “Just doing some spring cleaning.” She gave him a false smile.

  “It’s not spring.” He looked down at her shoes and saw that they had streaks of mud as if she’d stopped to clean them and hadn’t done a very good job of it. “You look like you’ve been out in the rain and in the mud.”

  “I—I was working in the back yard.” She gripped the box she was holding tighter.

  “What’s in there?” Zane asked. Something wasn’t right. None of this was right.

  “Some junk I’m going to toss.” She took a step back but he followed her and took the box out of her arms. “No.” She lunged for the box but he turned and opened it.

  Inside the box were toiletries like men’s shaving cream, and a brand of shampoo and shower gel that was for men. There was also a toothbrush, hair comb, and a razor, all packed among men’s boxers and T-shirts.

  Zane dropped the box on the floor and Phoebe took a step back. “Does this all belong to the man you were cheating on me with?”

  “Cheating?” Phoebe looked panicked now. “I never cheated.”

  “Then why does Jessie have pictures of you with another man?” he asked.

  Her gaze darted to the open doorway and back to him. “A friend was visiting. That must be it.”

  Zane just studied at her. “I saw the pictures, Phoebe. That was no innocent kiss.” Before she could respond, he said, “Where’s Jessie?”

  “Jessie?” Phoebe’s voice was tight. “Why would I know? Of course I don’t know.”

  Something inside him told him that Phoebe was lying.

  “Phoebe…” he said in a warning tone. “I know you threatened her.”

  “I did not.” Phoebe spoke in a rush. “It’s her word against mine.”

  Zane felt like he was going to go crazy if he didn’t get some answers and find Jessie. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “If anything has happened to Jessie and it was because of you…” He ground his teeth and she withered beneath his look. “Are you positive you don’t know where she is?”

  She gave a slow, jerky nod but said nothing.

  He turned and headed to his truck. He cast a glance over his shoulder. “You hear or think of anything, you call me.”

  Phoebe stared at him then turned and closed the door behind her.

  Chapter 15

  It was too early to file a missing person’s report. Zane slammed his palm against his steering wheel as he hung up with the sheriff’s department. They said they’d keep an eye out but there was nothing they could do until after twenty-four hours. She’d been missing for seven.

  He tried to concentrate on where she could be. He and Wyatt had checked everywhere they could think of and Wayne and Dillon had joined in the search, along with Zane’s ranch hands.

  Nowhere. They could find her nowhere.

  And now it was dark. It would be even harder to locate her now.

  An hour had passed since his talk with Phoebe when Zane hung up with Wyatt once again. He started to turn his truck around to check in at another neighbor’s ranch when his phone rang.

  It was Phoebe’s number.

  With a scowl, he answered. “What?”

  “Zane.” At the sound of Jessie’s weak voice he straightened in his seat.

  “Jessie.” He clenched his phone tighter. “Are you all right?”

  “My ribs are broken.” She sounded weak, faint. “It hurts.”

  He sucked in his breath. “Where are you, honey?” He pulled his truck over to the side of the road and he kept his voice calm for her benefit. “Tell me where you are.”

  “I—” She groaned and his gut lurched. “He’s dead. I landed on him and I think…” She sounded dazed. “I think that’s why I didn’t die.”

  “Tell me where you are.” It was becoming harder and harder to keep his calm for her sake. “I need to know so I can help you.”

  “In the bottom of a well,” she said. “He pushed me, but I grabbed him and he fell in, too.”

  Zane gripped his cell phone hard enough that it was going to crack. “Where, honey. Tell me where.”

  “They took me… Her and Ed…” Her voice trailed off. “Now Ed’s dead.” She gasped. “It hurts.”

  “Stay with me, Jessie.” Damn. Where should he go? “Where are you?”

  “That abandoned house,” she said slowly. “You said it was in a friend’s family for generations before they lost it to the bank.” She coughed. “It hurts to talk.”

  “I’ll be there.” He stomped on the gas. “Why do you have Phoebe’s phone?”

  “It was in Ed’s pocket when I searched him,” she said. “He must have borrowed it from her.” She groaned. “I’m so sleepy.”

  Zane clenched his jaw. If Jessie died… “Just stay with me, honey.”

  “I’m cold, so cold.” She sounded drowsy. “I need to sleep. So tired…”

  “Jessie?” He cursed as the line went dead.

  Zane pushed the speed dial number on his phone for Wyatt and told him about Jessie’s call.

  “I’m on my way,” Wyatt said. “I’ll start letting everyone know to head over there,” he added and then disconnected.

  Zane tried to call Phoebe’s phone again, hoping Jessie would pick up, but no answer.

  When he hit the road, his headlights bounced off the rutted path as he crossed the cattle guard. In the glow of his
headlights he saw a set of tire prints that looked fresh even as the rain was washing them away. He turned his truck onto the road and the engine roared as he pressed on the gas. In the distance he saw an abandoned building. In front of it was a black car with its headlights on. Was it the same car that had been at Phoebe’s?

  The car was turning around and then its tires spun in the mud as it started toward his truck.

  Was Jessie in that car?

  The car came straight toward him. He had to swerve as the vehicle reached him and he barely kept from going into the ditch beside the road.

  The car swerved, too. It bounced over the ground and slammed into an oak tree. Its lights shown off the tree trunk and the glistening wet tree leaves.

  Zane shoved his truck into park then jumped out and ran toward the car. When he reached it, he opened the driver’s side door and saw the blonde woman at the wheel. The airbag had been deployed, but her cheek was against the steering wheel, her face turned toward him. It was Phoebe.

  When he touched her neck, he felt her pulse and it was strong. She groaned and blinked as she opened her eyes. It registered in her eyes when she recognized him.

  He looked over her shoulder into the back but no one was there. “Where’s Jessie?” he asked as the rain poured down.

  Phoebe’s face was white as she straightened. “I—I don’t know.”

  “She called me from your phone,” he said. “I know you were with her. Tell me where she is now.”

  “I don’t know,” she repeated, her voice shaking. “She must have stolen my phone. I couldn’t find it.”

  “Why are you out here?” he asked.

  “I was looking for her, too.” Phoebe licked her lips. “I wanted to help you.”

  “Bullshit.” He pushed away from the car. “She’d better be all right. You’d better hope she’s all right.”

  He didn’t have time for this. “Stay here,” he ordered her before climbing into his truck. He didn’t know how seriously Phoebe was hurt. As much as he wanted to keep her with him, he couldn’t move her.

  And Jessie was somewhere ahead. He pulled out his cell phone and called Wyatt and told him where he was. Wyatt said he’d call the sheriff's department.

  Zane jumped back into his truck and drove to the house. He parked and grabbed a flashlight out of his glove compartment before jumping out of his truck. His boots hit a mud puddle and water splashed.

  “Jessie,” he shouted as he ran toward the building. “Jessie!”

  In the light of his flashlight, he was sure he saw footprints in the mud. At times there were three separate sets. Three sets going toward the back of the house, one set coming back.

  It looked like there might have been a struggle and then someone was dragged. His heart beat faster and faster. “Jessie!” he shouted again as he ran around the back of the house.

  He followed the footprints that led to a pile of boards. Three sets of prints went up to the pile. One set came back.

  The well.

  “Jessie!” He hurried to the pile and started pulling off board after board. “Can you hear me, honey?”

  When he’d pulled off enough boards to see that well, he got down on his belly and held onto the edge as he looked down. “Jessie!”

  Her name bounced off the walls. Nothing.

  His heart jerked hard and fear tore through him. Fear for Jessie.

  A moan rose up from below.

  “Jessie?” Zane shouted. “Are you down there?”

  “Yes,” she said and relief made his shoulders sag for a moment.

  “I’ll get you out of there.” He looked around him to see if there was something he could use. Nothing. “I’ll get a rope and I’ll be right back.”

  “Zane,” she called out, her voice faint. “My ribs hurt so bad. I don’t think I can hold on.”

  “Help is coming.” He eased up until he was crouched beside the well. The front of his clothing was slick with mud and he wiped his hands on his back pockets. His phone was still holstered. He pulled it out and called 911 and let them know about her situation and that rescue equipment was needed.

  After he hung up he remembered that three sets of footprints had led up to the well and one had come back.

  “Is anyone else down there with you?” he asked. “You said someone was dead.”

  “They guy Phoebe was with,” she said. “I think he is dead.”

  “Who did this to you.” He ground his teeth. “Phoebe?”

  “Yes.” She sounded like she had a hard time speaking. “And the man down here. He pushed me in but he slipped when I grabbed him and he fell with me.”

  Zane’s jaw clenched. “Will you be okay if I leave you for a bit?” He’d check to see if he had any equipment in this truck that could help him save Jessie.

  “Please don’t leave me.” She spoke in a hoarse voice then coughed. “Please.”

  “I’ll be right here, honey.” His heart twisted as he spoke. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He tried to keep Jessie talking but she kept fading in and out.

  It wasn’t long before Wyatt, Wayne, and Dillon made it and came around to the back of the old house, flashlights bobbing in the darkness as Wyatt called out to him.

  “Help is here, Jessie,” Zane said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m alive,” she said. “That’s what’s important.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at his brothers who had rope and other gear with them. “We’re going to get you out of there now.”

  “Okay,” she said then groaned in pain.

  Wayne walked up holding a harness he’d obviously made out of rope. “I can get her, bro.”

  Zane had known he’d be able to count on his brother to come up with something. Wayne had been Special Forces, had served in Afghanistan, and had just retired a few months ago.

  “I’m going down,” Zane said as he took the harness from Wayne. “You just get us out of there.”

  Wayne slapped him on the shoulder. “You got it.”

  While Wyatt and Dillon were outfitting Zane, Wayne drove his big Chevy 4x4 around to the back of the house. The trucks headlights illuminated the area. Wayne got out and started preparing the winch attached to the front of the truck that they’d use to lower Zane into the well and then extract him and Jessie.

  When they were ready, Zane’s brothers slowly lowered him into the well. Zane’s heart jerked as he shined his flashlight down and he got his first good look at Jessie. She was sitting with her back up against the wall of the well, her arm wrapped around her chest. Her face was dirty and blood marred her temple where he could see a large cut. Her pupils were dilated, her clothes covered in mud and she was shivering so hard that he could see her body shaking.

  “I’m here, honey,” he said as he neared her.

  She gave a strained but relieved smile. “I knew you’d come for me.”

  He reached her and saw that she was sitting partially on top of a man’s body and his gut tightened.

  The bastard had almost murdered Zane’s woman. If the man wasn’t already dead, Zane would have killed him.

  When he reached Jessie, she gingerly came into this arms and he carefully held her and kissed her forehead, avoiding the cut on her temple. “I’ve got you,” he said as he buckled her into the harness with him as gently as possible.

  She leaned her head against his chest as he tugged three times on the rope. “Bring us on up,” he shouted.

  A moment later the rope tightened and he and Jessie were slowly pulled up together. When they got to the top of the well, Zane said, “Be careful with her. She’s injured.”

  “Don’t worry, bro,” Wayne said. “We’ll treat her like a glass rose.”

  Zane unbuckled Jessie as his brothers tried to raise her all of the way out without hurting her. She still cried out and tears flowed down her cheeks. After they laid her on a blanket outside the well they got Zane out.

  Sirens sounded in the distance and Zane closed his eyes and took a deep
breath, thanking God that Jessie was okay.

  Chapter 16

  After he made another pot of coffee, Zane left it on the warmer and headed outside. It had been two days since everything had gone down and Jessie was still sleeping.

  Dillon was just getting out of his truck as Zane opened the door to the closed-in front porch. He strode toward his brother’s vehicle as Dillon leaned in and grabbed his Stetson from off the seat then put it on.

  “What’s up?” Zane rested his forearm on the front of Dillon’s truck and leaned up against the vehicle. The metal was warm beneath his skin.

  “You won’t believe what I found on Phoebe.” Dillon held some papers in his hands and stood a couple of feet from Zane. “I did some research and learned some interesting things.”

  “And?” Zane prompted.

  “I had a strange feeling, like something wasn’t right, so I dug a little deeper.” Dillon had always been over-inquisitive as a child.

  Dillon pushed up the brim of his hat and rubbed his forehead and continued. “Phoebe is from Chicago, not Arizona like everyone thinks. What’s more is that she’s been married three times—Mike wasn’t her only husband like she let on. If that’s all not enough, her second husband is dead and of course there’s Mike.”

  “She’s from Chicago and she’s been married three times,” Zane repeated slowly. “You’re sure about that?”

  “You would have been number four.” Dillon had a serious expression. “I wouldn’t tell you something like that if I questioned any part of the information I gathered.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Zane frowned. “It came out of left field so I wasn’t expecting it.”

  Dillon gave a nod. “The first ex left town after their divorce and the second husband committed suicide by carbon dioxide poisoning. Found him in his car. And you know how Mike died.”

  For a long moment Zane said nothing as he thought about what his brother had just told him. He looked down at the papers in his hands.

  “Duplicates of her marriage certificates and her birth certificate.” Dillon gestured toward the handful of papers. “Along with a few copies of articles I tracked down about her second husband’s death. His family maintained he never would have done that. The guy’s family pointed fingers at Phoebe, but in the end it was ruled a suicide.”