Til Death Do Us Part (20 page)

“I wish we could go back to their special place,” Joanna
said. “Tonight…right this minute…and share the magic of what we feel with them.”

“We don't need to go to Annabelle and Benjamin's special place,” J.T. told her. “And just as their magic existed only between the two of them, ours exists only between the two of us. It can't be shared.”

“It's going to end for us, just as it ended for them.” Joanna pulled out of J.T.'s arms and jumped up from the sofa.

“Jo? Honey?” He reached for her, but she moved too quickly for him to grab her arm. He stood and watched her. She ran to the door, unlocked it and grasped the knob.

“When this is over and Lenny Plott is either dead or behind bars, you'll go back to Atlanta, back to your job and your life there. And I'll stay here in New Mexico, except when you come home to visit Elena. Then I'll have to go away because—” she swallowed the tears trapped in her throat “—it will be unbearable for me.”

She flung open the door and ran outside into the cool, starry night. A full moon spread a soft creamy blush across the land. J.T. raced after Joanna, calling her name as she fled from him. Following her, he cursed himself for hurting her this way. He understood only too well the desperation she felt, knowing that what they shared couldn't last forever. She was right. It had to end. She wanted eternity, a love that lived beyond death, and all he could give her was the moment—because that's all he believed in.

“Jo, stop running,” he called after her. “Please, honey. You're going to hurt yourself.”

But she kept running until he chased her down and pulled her into his arms. She struggled to free herself, but he tumbled her onto the ground and pinned her arms over her head as he straddled her.

“I can't stand to see you hurting this way.” He tried
to kiss her, but she turned her face away. “Accept what there is between us. It's real. It's magical. It's passionate. Maybe it isn't what you want, but it's all I can give you.”

Turning to face him, she stared up at him, the moonlight illuminating her features in gold-tinted shadows. “You could give me everything I want and need if you'd only let yourself,” she said. “But you're afraid. So afraid to let yourself love me the way you really want to.”

He pressed his arousal against her feminine mound. “Why can't this be enough for you? It's never been like this with anyone else. Never been this good…this right.”

“Oh, J.T., I love you. I love you so.” She arched her body up and into his.

He groaned, then took her mouth with savage hunger. Squirming beneath him, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, engaging it in a duel with his. Releasing his hold on her wrists, he caught the caftan zipper between his thumb and forefinger and whipped the garment apart. Shoving the caftan off her shoulders and down her arms, J.T. lifted her, removed the caftan and laid her naked body down on the flowing robe's silky softness.

She touched his chest with one hand and lifted the other to his head, threading her fingers through his hair. Rising up just enough to grab hold of his zipper, he opened his jeans, jerked them down his legs and kicked them into the dirt.

“This is the magic, Jo.” He lifted her hips and plunged into her. “This is the ecstasy. It might not last forever, but it's more than some people ever know.”

“Yes. Yes.” This was the ecstasy, but what J.T. could not admit to himself was that the love they shared was what made it magical for them.

He rolled over, placing his body against the hard, dusty earth as he lifted her into the dominant position. They
mated, there on the ground, beneath the stars; primitive man and woman, joined in nature's most basic, instinctive ritual. Each of them giving and taking in equal measure, sharing the earth-shattering pleasure when their climaxes claimed them.

Leaving their clothes lying on the ground, J.T. lifted Joanna in his arms and carried her back to the house and to the bed they shared in his mother's house. Neither of them said a word as he cradled her in his arms. They lay together in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats until they fell asleep.

Hours later, J.T woke, eased her from his arms and slipped out of bed. Quietly striding into the living room, he stood in the darkness for several minutes, then turned on a table lamp and walked over to the easel Joanna had placed in the corner. He lifted the cover slowly. Groaning, he closed his eyes, but he could not erase the portrait from his mind. In that one brief glance, he had seen himself as Joanna saw him, and if he had ever doubted that she loved him, he no longer did.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the beautiful, noble man Joanna had painted. Straight blue-black hair hanging to his shoulders. Glistening bronze skin stretched over taut, well-developed muscles. An ageless man. A man of yesterday and today and tomorrow. A perfect man, seen through the eyes of love.

He did not deserve Joanna's love. He was unworthy of such pure sweet devotion. How was it possible that she loved him so deeply and completely and saw in him the man he longed to be? Did he have the courage to accept what she was offering, and the strength to become the man she wanted and needed?

He knew that if he didn't find that strength and that courage, he would doom them to a fate as tragic as the one that had befallen their great-grandparents.

R
ITA
G
ONZALES GRUMBLED
to herself when she heard the door chimes. “No company. We are not at home. Go away.”

Leaning the mop against the kitchen counter, she wiped her pudgy, damp hands on her apron and waddled into the hallway. The chimes rang again.

“Who would be bothering people so early in the morning?” She peered through the peephole in the solid wooden door. A tall, dark-haired man with a thick mustache stood on the front porch. She didn't recognize the man, but then she didn't know all of Elena and Alex's friends and business acquaintances. Rita unlocked and opened the door enough to take a better look at the stranger.

When he saw Rita, he smiled and nodded. She liked his smile, and although she was unaccustomed to seeing men in suits and ties, she liked his neat appearance.

“Morning, ma'am. Sorry to bother you so early, but I'm here on official business. I'd like to see Mr. and Mrs. Gregory.” He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out his identification to show Rita. “I'm Eugene Willis, one of the FBI agents working with Dane Carmichael in Trinidad.”

“Agent Carmichael has been here on the ranch several times,” Rita said, then shook her head. “I'm sorry but Elena and Alex are not here. They went to Santa Fe on business yesterday.”

“Oh, that's too bad. I have some news for them and needed their help in contacting Joanna Beaumont.”

“Your Mr. Carmichael knows how to reach Joanna and J.T.” Rita eyed the man suspiciously.

“Yes, we've been trying to call them, but can't get through. We thought perhaps the Gregorys would have another number where they could be reached.”

“Something must be wrong with J.T.'s little phone—”

“His cellular phone? Yes, that's what we think.”

“If Mr. Carmichael can't reach J.T., why hasn't he called the tribal police? Since J.T.'s cousin, Joseph Ornelas, is a policeman, he would gladly take the message to them himself.”

“I'm sure Dane will have thought of calling the tribal police by the time I check in with him,” Eugene said. “It's just that we're all so pleased about the good news we have for Ms. Beaumont that we wanted to reach her as quickly as possible.”

“What good news?” Rita opened the door fully and stepped out onto the front porch.

“We've apprehended Lenny Plott. Caught him in Trinidad before daylight this morning.”

“Oh, my, this is good news.” Rita stuck her fat finger in Eugene's face. “You make sure that man is put back in a thick cell with many locks so he can never escape again.”

Eugene grinned. “Yes, ma'am, that's just what we intend to do.”

“You tell Mr. Carmichael to keep trying to call J.T. on his little telephone and if there is no answer, call the tribal police and ask for Joseph Ornelas.” Rita snapped her fingers. “Perhaps Elena's cousin, Kate Whitehorn, would know how to contact J.T. and Joanna. Joanna has visited the Whitehorns many times when she goes to the reservation to paint.”

“Kate Whitehorn. Yes, ma'am. Thank you. And please, give Mr. and Mrs. Gregory the good news when they return from Santa Fe.”

“Yes, I'll do that.” Rita stood on the porch and watched Eugene Willis get in his gray sedan and drive away.

Moments later, Cliff Lansdell drove in from the opposite direction, slowed his four-wheel drive in front of the ranch house and stopped.

“Who was that, Rita?” he asked, watching the car drive away.

“An FBI agent named Willis,” Rita said. “He came here to talk to Elena and Alex. They've caught that man, that Lenny Plott, who wanted to kill Joanna. But they can't get J.T. to answer his little telephone to give them the good news. I told him I didn't understand why they didn't just call the tribal police.”

Cliff flung open the door, jumped out and ran up onto the porch. “Rita, did you see that man's identification?”

“What?”

“Did he show you proof that he was an FBI agent?”

“Do you think I'm a stupid old woman?”

“No, I do not think you're old or stupid.”

“He showed me his badge, showed me his picture. It was him. Big black mustache and all. And his name was Willis. Eugene Willis.”

Cliff let out a deep breath. “Good. Good.”

“I wouldn't talk to nobody who wasn't the police.” Rita placed her hands on her wide hips. “Anyway, I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. The FBI knows that Joanna is on the Navajo reservation.”

“But no one off the reservation, except Elena and Alex, knows exactly where J.T. took Joanna,” Cliff said. “Not even the FBI.”

“I'm glad this whole thing is over and that awful man will be put back in prison,” Rita said. “Now, Joanna can come home and not have to be afraid anymore.”

 

J
OANNA SLIPPED HER
sketch pad and pens into the saddlebag and closed it. “I'm glad it isn't hot today. Maybe we can stay out longer than we did yesterday and I can finish these sketches.”

“Too bad you need sunlight to sketch,” J.T. said. “If you could learn to draw in the dark, we could go out at night when it's cool.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Joanna adjusted her hat, tightening the drawstring under her chin.

J.T. dropped his Glock into his saddlebag, then slid his Remington into its sheath attached to his saddle. Patting his shirt pocket, he double-checked to make sure he had his cellular phone, then he mounted Washington.

“Kate's planning that get-together this weekend,” Joanna said. “We really need to give her an answer today. It's important to her that we be there. She wants you to meet other members of your mother's family.”

“I've met more relatives than I can count already.” J.T. motioned Washington into a slow trot. “Half the Bitter Water clan seem to live in this area and I think we count relatives down to tenth cousins.”

Joanna laughed. “Hey, we Southerners do the same thing.” She wondered if J.T. realized that he had said “we” when he had spoken of the Navajo. Probably not. But Joanna had noticed that he was beginning to relate to his mother's people and seemed to enjoy not only the
Saad
lessons Eddie gave him, but the history lessons, too.

She urged Playtime into a trot alongside Washington. “We need to let Kate know something by tonight.”

“Hey, we didn't come to the reservation so I could socialize with my relatives,” J.T. said. “I brought you here to keep you out of harm's way until the FBI catch up with Plott.”

“There's no reason that while we're here we can't socialize. No one is going to talk to a stranger and give away our hiding place. Joseph told you that he's spoken to everyone in this area, cautioning them to contact him if anyone they don't know comes around asking questions.”

“You're as determined as Elena that I accept my Navajo heritage, aren't you?”

“I want you to be happy, and I don't think you can be until you resolve all the hang-ups you have about being part Native American and part Scotch-Irish.”

“You're beginning to sound like a psychiatrist.”

“I suppose it comes from having gone through months of therapy after the rape,” Joanna said. “I'm not sure how long it would have taken me to break away from Mother's domination if I hadn't reached a point in my therapy where I admitted that she had always run my life, that I had never made one decision on my own.”

The afternoon sun warmed them as they traveled several miles from Mary's house. The land was dotted with yuccas, creosote bushes and mesquite. And the colors were sharp and pure; the earth itself was alive with vibrant hues.

When they reached Painted Canyon, J.T. searched for the spot Joanna had chosen several days ago when they'd first ridden out this way. He saw the huge rock where she liked to sit and look down over the plateau. He recognized the area because a scattering of cottonwood trees grew nearby.

He helped her dismount and retrieve her supplies, then
spread a blanket down for her to sit on. “I'm going to walk around awhile. I won't go far and I'll keep you in sight every minute.”

“I know this must be boring for you,” she said.

Leaning over, he took her face in his hands, drew her to him and kissed her soundly. “I'm never bored when I'm with you. But if I stay too close, I might distract you.”

Smiling, she rubbed his nose with hers. “You just might.” He released her. “Go on off and explore.”

J.T. climbed higher up the canyon, feeling as if when he reached the summit, he'd be able to touch the sky. He glanced down at Joanna, who was busy sketching.

“Help! Somebody, please help us!” J.T. heard the loud cry. His heart raced. He recognized that voice. Eddie. Eddie Whitehorn.

“Eddie?”

“Help! Help!”

“Where are you, Eddie?”

“Down here!”

“Where?”

“J.T., is that you?”

“Yes, Eddie, just keep talking and I'll find you.”

Within minutes, J.T. had located his young cousin. The boy sat at the bottom of a ravine, wedged between two steep sandstone formations. Eddie held a lamb in his arms.

“Good God, boy, how did you get down there?” J.T. guessed the boy was a good eighteen to twenty feet down.

“I came looking for a couple of the little lambs that got lost yesterday,” Eddie said. “Don't tell Mama I got in trouble. She told me I couldn't come out here by myself looking for them.”

“How'd you get down there?” J.T. asked.

“I climbed down here when I saw the lamb, but now, I
can't climb back up and carry the lamb with me. And…and I think…well, I hurt my leg. I think I sort of sprained it.”

“Stay put,” J.T. said. “I've got to go tell Joanna. She can call your mother. I'm sure Kate is worried sick about you.”

“No, J.T., don't tell Mama.”

J.T. called out to Joanna, who turned sharply and stared up at him. He waved at her, motioning for her to come to him. She laid down her sketch pad and pen, then stood and climbed up the hill.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Eddie's down in that ravine over there,” J.T. told her. “He came out looking for a couple of lost lambs and found one, but he's hurt his leg and can't climb back up.”

“Oh, my goodness. Kate will be terribly worried.”

“Here.” J.T. pulled his cellular phone from his pocket and handed it to Joanna. “Give Kate a call and let her know Eddie's all right and we'll bring him home in a little while.” J.T. grasped Joanna's wrist. “I've got to climb down the ravine and get him and the lamb. After you call Kate, go get my rifle and keep it with you until I come back up.”

“Go get your… Surely you don't think anything could happen to me in the few minutes it'll take you to rescue Eddie.” Joanna caressed his cheek. “We're out in the middle of nowhere, and Lenny Plott has no idea we're on the Navajo reservation.”

“I don't believe in taking chances. Get the rifle. Pacify me, honey.”

“Okay. I'll call Kate and then I'll get your rifle.”

 

D
ANE
C
ARMICHAEL FINISHED
off the last bite of his ham-and-cheese sandwich, then washed it down with the strong
coffee they served at the Trinidad Café. He wished to hell they could wrap up this case. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a week. Sooner or later Lenny Plott was going to come back to Trinidad, and Dane's guess was it would be very soon. Since his attempt to kidnap Libby Felton had failed, and it would take him time to track down Claire Andrews again, his next likely target was Joanna Beaumont.

Between his agents and the local and state authorities, they pretty much had Trinidad sealed off. He doubted a fly could sneak by without being caught in their trap.

Just as Dane reached for his bill, one of his agents, Jim Travis, slipped into the booth across from him. “I need to talk to you, and I'd like what I tell you to be off the record, at least temporarily.”

“What's wrong?” Dane asked.

“It's about Eugene Willis.”

“Yeah, what about Willis?”

“He met a girl the first day we got in town and he's been messing around with her. You know Willis. He's a ladies' man. He can't leave 'em alone and they can't leave him alone.”

“The damned fool!” Dane wadded his bill in his fist. “Look, I don't know why Willis hasn't been dismissed before now, but if he messes up while under my command, he won't get a second chance.”

“Yeah, well, I tried to tell him that you weren't anybody to mess around with, but… Hell, the guy went out to get us some breakfast this morning and he hasn't come back. I figure he's off somewhere with that girl, since he had—”

“What time this morning?”

“Around six-thirty.”

Dane glanced at his wristwatch. “It's twelve-thirty.”

“Yeah, I've been trying to track him down, hoping I could find him before—”

“I don't want any explanations. You're off this case, and so is Willis. As a matter of fact, both of you are history in the agency as far as I'm concerned.”

 

J
OANNA CLOSED
J.T.'
S
cellular phone and slipped it into her shirt pocket, then walked over and removed J.T.'s Remington from its scabbard on Washington's saddle. Although she was a fairly good shot with a handgun, she wasn't accustomed to the feel of a rifle.

She climbed back up the side of the canyon, looked down into the ravine and saw J.T. slowly, cautiously making his way toward Eddie.

“I called Kate. She was half out of her mind with worry,” Joanna told J.T. “She'd already called several family members to have them search for Eddie.”

“Did you get my rifle?” J.T. asked.

She held up the Remington so he could see it. “I told Kate we'd bring Eddie right home.”