Диана Палмер – One Night with a Red-Hot Rancher: Tough to Tame / Carrying the Rancher's Heir / One Dance with the Cowboy (страница 20)

CAPPIE COULD almost imagine what sort of story Frank had told Bentley. But now she understood his anger.

“I can explain,” she began.

“You told me Friday night that you had an ex-boyfriend,” he said icily. “I didn’t get to hear the rest of the story, but Bartlett was kind enough to fill me in. You accused him of assaulting you and had him arrested. He actually spent time in jail and now he has a felony record because of you.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes, but that isn’t what happened…!”

“I know all about women who like to play with men,” he interrupted. “When I was in my early twenties, I worked for a veterinarian while I was in college. It supplemented my grants and scholarships. He had a vet tech who was very pretty, but never got dates. I felt sorry for her. She could only work for him part-time, because I had the full-time position. She stayed late one weekend and teased me into kissing her. Then she very calmly tore her shirt, messed up her hair and phoned the police.”

Cappie felt her face go pale.

“She wanted my job,” Bentley continued cynically. “I dipped into my savings to hire a private detective, who discovered that it wasn’t the first time she’d pulled that stunt. She was arrested and my record was cleared. The vet hired me back in a heartbeat and spent years trying to make it up to me.”

“I had no idea,” she whispered.

“Of course not, or you wouldn’t have tried the same stunt on me.”

She blinked in disbelief. “What?”

“You were always talking about what you’d do if you had money. You knew I was well-to-do. When were you going to accuse me of assaulting you? Have you got a lawyer waiting in the wings to sue me?”

She couldn’t believe her ears. He actually thought she was playing him for cash. Frank had lied to him, and with his background, Bentley had fallen for the tall tale.

“I’ve never accused anyone falsely,” she defended herself.

“Only Frank Bartlett?”

She swallowed, hard. “He broke my arm,” she said with quiet dignity. “It wasn’t the first time he hit me, either.”

“He told me you’d say that,” he replied. “Poor guy. You ruined his life. Well, you aren’t going to get the chance to ruin mine. You can work your two weeks’ notice.” He got to his feet.

“You’re firing me?” she asked weakly.

“No, you’re quitting,” he returned coldly. “That way, you won’t be able to let the state support you with unemployment insurance, or sue me for unlawful termination of employment.”

“I see.”

“Women,” he muttered coldly. “You’d think I’d already learned my lesson. You all look so innocent. And you all lie.”

He opened the door. “Back to work, Miss Drake,” he said in a formal tone. “It’s going to be a long day.”

She worked mechanically, even managed to smile at old Mr. Smith’s jokes and Dr. King’s bland comments. Keely was looking at her oddly, but nobody else seemed to find her behavior out of the ordinary.

At the end of the day, she went to her car almost gratefully. She still couldn’t believe that Dr. Rydel had fallen for Frank’s lies. But she was going to do something about it. She just didn’t know what. Yet.

She pulled up in the front yard, puzzled at the colorful cloth piled at the foot of the steps. Was Kell cleaning house…?

She slammed on the brakes, cut off the engine and ran as fast as she could to the front door. That wasn’t a bundle of cloth, it was Kell. Kell! He was unconscious, lying beside the wreck of his wheelchair and he was bleeding from half a dozen cuts. She felt for a pulse and, thank God, found one! At least he was still alive.

She saw the front door standing open and didn’t dare go inside, for fear someone might be waiting there. She ran back to her car, jerked out her cell phone and punched in 911. Then she ran back to Kell and waited.

The next hour was a blur of ambulance sirens, police sirens, blue uniforms, tan uniforms and abject terror.

She waited for Dr. Micah Steele to come out and tell her what Kell’s condition was. She was sick and chilled to the bone. If Kell died, she’d have nobody.

He came back out to the waiting room a few minutes after Kell was brought in, tall and blond and somber.

“How is he?” she asked frantically.

“Badly beaten,” he told her, “which you already know. His back is one long bruise. We’re still doing tests, but he has some feeling in his legs, which indicates that the shrapnel in his back may have shifted. If the tests verify that, I’m having him transported to the medical center in San Antonio. I have a friend who’s an orthopedic surgeon there. He’ll operate.”

“You mean, Kell could walk again?” she asked, excited.

He smiled. “Yes.” The smile faded. “But that’s not my immediate concern. He said there were three men. One of them was a man you’ve had dealings with, I understand. Frank Bartlett.”

“Beating up a paralyzed man, with a mob,” she gritted. “What a brave little worm he is!”

“Sheriff ’s got an all-points bulletin out for him and his friends,” Micah told her. “But you’re in danger until they’re found. You can’t stay out there at the house by yourself.”

“If you send Kell to San Antonio,” she said, “I’ll call a friend who works for the same veterinary practice that employed me until I moved here. She’ll let me stay with her.”

“You’ll have to be in protective custody,” Micah said firmly.

She smiled. “Her brother is a Texas Ranger. He lives with her.”

“Well!”

“I’ll call her as soon as I see Kell.”

“That will be another twenty minutes,” he said. “We have to finish the tests first. But he’s going to be fine.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Steele.”

He smiled. “Glad I can help. I like Kell.”

“I do, too.”

She phoned Brenda Banks in San Antonio. Brenda’s brother, Colter, was a Texas Ranger. He’d been based out of Houston until his best friend, a Houston police officer named Mike Johns, was killed trying to stop a bank robbery. Colter had asked for reassignment to Company D of the Texas Rangers, based in Bexar County, and moved in with his sister. Since Company D now had an official Cold Case sergeant, Colter applied for and obtained the job. Brenda said he loved solving old cases.

She tried the apartment, first, and sure enough, Brenda was at home and not at work. “How do you like your new job?” Brenda asked when she heard Cappie’s voice.

“I like it a lot. Do you still have a spare bedroom, and is there a job opening there at the vet clinic?”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yes, well, things didn’t work out as well as I hoped,” Cappie said quietly. “Frank and a couple of friends came down and almost beat Kell to death. He’s on his way up to San Antonio for back surgery and I need a place to stay, just until after the surgery. They wanted me in protective custody, but I told them Colter lived with you…”

“You poor kid! You can come and stay as long as you like,” Brenda said at once. “But Colter’s out of the country on a case. He has an apartment of his own now. What’s that about Kell?” she asked worriedly. “Is he going to be all right?”

“He’s just banged up, mostly,” Cappie said, “but the shrapnel in his back has shifted and he has feeling in his legs. They may be able to operate.”

“What a blessing in disguise,” the other woman said quietly. “But what about you? Don’t tell me Frank went to your house just to beat up your brother.”

“He was probably looking for me,” she confessed. “But he’d already done enough damage to my working relationship with my new boss. I don’t have a job anymore, either.”

“I’ll ask Dr. Lammers about something part-time,” she said immediately. “I know they’d love to have you back. The new tech doesn’t have the dedication to the job that you had, and doesn’t show up for work half the time, either. I’ll phone her right now. Meanwhile, you come on up here. You know where the spare key’s kept.”

“Thanks a million, Brenda.” Her voice was breaking, despite her efforts to control it.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Brenda said gently. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you just tell me.”

Cappie swallowed. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. You just hang on. Get Kell up here and then come on yourself. We’ll handle it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll phone Dr. Lammers right now.” She hung up.

Cappie went back to the waiting room and sat, sad and somber, while she waited for the test results and a chance to talk to Kell.

Dr. Steele was smiling when he came back. “I think it’s operable,” he said. “I’m going to send Kell to San Antonio by chopper. It’s quicker and it will be easier on his back. We don’t want that shrapnel to shift again. You can see him, just for a minute. Want to fly up with him?”

“Yes, if I can,” she said.

He nodded toward Kell’s room. “Cash Grier is in there with him. He wants a word with you, too.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Steele.”