Quinn (33 page)

When the receptionist agreed to send the doctor to Micah’s room, Cheyenne started back along the same corridor.

The door to Micah’s room was closed.

She knew she’d left it open.

Puzzled, she opened it and stepped inside.

Austin was leaning over the bed, holding a pillow to Micah’s face.

“What…?”

Austin’s head came up sharply. The look on his face was one Cheyenne had never seen before. A look of pure evil.

All the color drained from her as she realized what he was doing.

With a cry of rage she raced across the room and snatched the pillow from his hand, tossing it to the floor.

Micah lay as still as death.

Austin gave a snarl of fury and slapped her so hard her head snapped to one side. Then with a grunt he shoved her against the wall, pinning her arms at her sides.

She experienced a surge of outrage. “Take your hands off me.”

At her words he merely smiled. A terrible, chilling smile. “I’ll put my hands on you any time I please. And you can’t stop me. Just like that old coot couldn’t stop me.”

She tried to shake off his hands, and they merely tightened on her until she couldn’t move. With her body pinned to the wall, her arms effectively immobilized, she hissed out a breath. “Are you mad?”

His smile disappeared, replaced by a look of cold disdain. “I happen to be the smartest man on earth. And you, you stupid, all-trusting idiot, are about to learn just how smart I really am.” His grasp tightened and he pulled her away from the wall before twisting her arms behind her until she cried out in pain.

With one arm around her throat he pressed until she
was struggling for breath. And still he pressed until strange lights began dancing in front of her eyes. She could feel herself slipping into a deep, dark hole and realized that she was about to lose consciousness.

He bent close to her ear. “If you want me to stop, nod once, and I’ll relax my grip, as long as you promise to walk quietly ahead of me. If you don’t agree to my terms, I’ll just keep on until you pass out cold and I’ll carry you.”

She managed the faintest nod of her head and was relieved when he loosened his grip on her, just enough to allow her to breathe.

As he relaxed the pressure on her throat she sucked air into her starving lungs. Gasping for every breath, she could feel her legs beginning to tremble, and she feared she might fall to the floor.

Austin caught her by her hair and yanked hard enough to have tears springing to her eyes.

“Start walking.”

With one arm around her waist, the other firmly grasping her hand in his, he dragged her to the doorway.

She turned for a last look at Micah, who continued to lie as still as death.

With a muttered oath Austin hauled her outside, where one of her ranch trucks was idling.

She stared around wildly, hoping to see Quinn returning from the police chief’s office, or someone else who would recognize her. Before she had a chance to call out, Austin shoved her into the cab of the truck and roughly tied her hands behind her back before tying her ankles as well. In a flash he was behind the wheel before taking off with a screech of tires.

As they drove through town, he turned up the radio
and began to sing along with reckless abandon at the top of his lungs.

While Cheyenne struggled to loosen her bonds, her mind was in turmoil.

Austin had smothered Micah. Smothered her dear, sweet old friend.

This was why Micah had been so agitated. Had he known what Austin was planning? But how?

And then another thought struck. A thought her mind could barely accept.

The fire. Had Micah seen Austin start the fire? Was that why he’d fought so hard when Austin had entered the room? Was that why Austin had silenced him?

That had to be what Micah had been trying to communicate to Rusty, to the doctor, to her and Quinn. And instead of at least allowing him to try to convey the truth, the doctor had subjected him to sedation.

Micah. Dear, sweet old Micah. After surviving a raging fire in the bunkhouse, he had now been smothered to death. It was too horrible, too impossible, to imagine.

Even while Cheyenne was overcome with grief for her dear friend she was also terrified.

Where was Austin planning on taking her? And why?

She had no answers. She knew only that in order to have done what she suspected him of doing Austin Baylor had to be completely mad.

He was a killer with no conscience.

Sweet heaven. She was helpless to do more than rage against the painful cord digging into her wrists and ankles. And all the while she was in the hands of a madman.

A madman who was singing at the top of his lungs, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

Q
uinn stepped into Micah’s room to find Dr. Walton bending over the old man’s bed adjusting an oxygen mask.

With a smile Quinn glanced around. “Where’s Cheyenne?”

The doctor’s usually placid bedside manner turned brisk. “That’s what I’d like to know. She told my assistant that she was worried about Micah, but when I got here she was nowhere to be seen. And my patient is in a terrible state. Look at him. He looks like he’s been in the fight of his life. When I walked into his room that first thing I saw was the pillow from his bed tossed clear across the room. If he did it, he must be Superman. He was hyperventilating, his breathing so labored you’d have thought he’d been mountain-climbing instead of lying quietly in a bed. And if that isn’t enough, look at the marks on his wrists. Like somebody locked his hands together and was holding him down.”

“Have you asked him what happened?”

“Of course I didn’t. Look at him. He’s exhausted, and fighting for every breath.”

“Is he too sedated to hear me?”

At Quinn’s question the doctor shook her head. “I’m sure he can hear. He just can’t speak over that smoke-damaged throat.”

Quinn leaned over Micah, bringing his face into the old man’s line of vision. “Micah. It’s Quinn Conway. Do you know what happened to Cheyenne?”

The old man’s eyes went wide and once again he tried to tear off the mask.

When Dr. Walton tried to hold the mask in place, Quinn laid a hand over the doctor’s, to still her movements. “Could you remove the oxygen for a minute?”

“I don’t under—”

“This is critical. I’m talking about life and death, Dr. Walton.”

With a sigh of frustration the doctor removed the mask, and Quinn leaned closer as Micah struggled to make himself understood.

“Aus…” Micah began coughing.

“Austin. Was he here?” Quinn demanded.

The old man nodded.

“Did Cheyenne go with him?”

Again, Micah nodded.

“Did she go willingly?”

He shook his head. “She… fought.”

Quinn’s heart sank. “Do you know where he’s taking her?”

The old man’s eyes turned bleak, and he made a low, moaning sound.

Quinn squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry, Micah. I’m calling the police chief now. We’ll find her.”

Micah clutched Quinn’s sleeve. “He’s…” A series of wracking coughs left him gasping for breath.

Dr. Walton brought the mask to his face. “I can’t wait any longer. He needs this now.”

“No.” The old man continued clutching Quinn’s sleeve, eyes wide and pleading, as he struggled to get the words out. “Austin’s… evil.”

“I know that now. And believe me, Micah, I intend to see that he doesn’t hurt Cheyenne.” He patted Micah’s arm. “Rest now. Do what the doctor says, and get yourself strong enough to get out of here. I swear to you, I’ll find them, and see that Cheyenne is safe.”

Quinn turned away and dialed the police chief. As he stepped from the room and sprinted toward the front door he said, “Are you at Cheyenne’s ranch yet?”

“Just driving up.” The chief gave several loud, savage oaths at the scene. of carnage unfolding before him. “There’s nothing left of the bunkhouse but ashes. It’s a wonder old Micah made it out.”

“What about Cheyenne? Is her truck there?” ’

“I thought she was at the clinic.”

“She’s gone. Micah said she left with Austin. And not willingly.”

The chief swore again. “I’ll look around here. There are plenty of barns and outbuildings where he could hide.”

Quinn heard the slam of the chief’s car door. “I’m not seeing any vehicles around. Can you think of any other place they’d go?”

“He could be taking her anywhere.” Quinn climbed into the truck. As he pulled the door shut, he had a flash
of memory. Cheyenne had told him she’d had a feeling of being watched in the night.

“My cabin.” He put the truck in gear and started along the main street. “Chief, I have a cabin in the northernmost section of our ranch. In high country. I’ll give you directions as I drive. If I’m right, Austin, or whatever his name is, may have followed us there last night.”

“What reason would he have for taking Cheyenne there?”

Quinn’s tone was grim. “I have no idea how a madman’s mind works. But if I’m right, he wants me to find them.”

“I’m calling in the state police. I don’t need to warn you, Quinn. You’re dealing with a sociopath. If you get there ahead of the law, you need to be extremely careful.”

“Right.” He dropped his cell phone into his shirt pocket and, as he drove away from town and hit the main highway, floored the gas pedal.

He had no plan in mind. No idea what he would do if he found Cheyenne with Austin at his cabin. He knew he ought to be plotting what to do when he got there. But he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around anything except the fact that the woman he loved was at the mercy of a crazed gunman.

The woman he loved.

The realization hit him with all the force of a bullet.

Whatever doubts he’d had before, there was no doubt now. He knew with absolute certainty that he loved Cheyenne. Loved her as he’d never loved anyone.

He prayed that he wouldn’t be too late to tell her.

As the truck roared along the highway, Cheyenne struggled against the bonds at her wrists, securely
fastened behind her back. The cord cut into her. The more she struggled, the more it tore at the tender flesh of her wrists, until blood began to run in little rivers down her back.

Each time a vehicle approached from the opposite direction, she stared hungrily at the people inside, hoping someone would catch her eye. If only she could wave her arms or kick her feet through the windshield, she thought. But all she could do was stare silently and pray.

Beside her, Austin seemed to be enjoying her misery. The more she struggled against her bonds, the louder he sang along with the music on the radio.

When their truck veered off the highway onto a stretch of woods, she went very still.

“Recognize this, Cheyenne?” His voice was exceptionally happy.

Her heart nearly stopped.

“Answer me. Do you recognize this?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “The road to Quinn’s cabin.”

“Your little lover’s hideaway in the mountains. Cozy.” He hummed as he maneuvered the truck between low-hanging branches of trees that brushed the windows and scraped against the roof of the cab.

“How do you know about it?”

“I was there last night. Watching you. You woke up and looked around.” He gave a low rumble of laughter. “Oh, it was so much fun watching you trying to see in the dark. Afterward you climbed back in the bed and you were all snug in Conway’s arms. Snug as a bug.”

He seemed to like the phrase and repeated it over and over. “Snug as a bug. Snug as a bug.” He smiled over at her. “My little bug. I’m going to squash you. You and Conway.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

As they bumped along the rutted trail, she began to feel more and more desperate. Her last hope of attracting attention from passing vehicles was gone. There would be no one here to see or hear. No one to find her.