Shot Through the Heart (Crimson Romance) Read online

  Shot Through the Heart

  D’Ann Lindun,

  author of Wild Horses

  Avon, Massachusetts

  This edition published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

  www.crimsonromance.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Christine D. Linscott-Dunham

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-5414-5

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5414-8

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-5415-3

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5415-5

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art 123rf.com

  Kim McKinnon:

  Thank you for all the years of brainstorming, critiquing and loyal support … but, mostly, for your friendship.

  And, for Franklin Meyers, because I know you’re smiling right now.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About the Author

  More From This Author

  Also Available

  Chapter One

  Laramie Porter hurried down the corridor of the small hospital where she’d been summoned by an urgent call. Her sister-in-law Julie needed her. Best friends since grade school, the two were closer than most sisters. The nurse who made the call hadn’t given many details. Only that Julie was in need of immediate help.

  At the door of room 202, Laramie took a deep breath, then knocked lightly.

  “Come in,” Julie called in a low voice.

  Not sure what to expect, Laramie pushed open the door and stepped inside. At her first glimpse of Julie, Laramie cried out and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God.”

  Julie looked up as Laramie entered, her beautiful face battered beyond recognition, eyes swollen almost shut and mouth twice its normal size, a trickle of dried blood under a broken nose. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Laramie. You came.”

  “Of course I came.” Laramie hurried across the floor and sat on the edge of the bed next to Julie. Afraid to touch her, she didn’t. “Who did this?” In her heart she already knew the answer. “Lawrence.”

  Julie nodded. “Yes.”

  Laramie held in the sob forming in the back of her throat. Her beloved big brother. “Why?” she whispered. But she knew. Drugs.

  “I caught him snorting coke again.” Julie rocked as if the grief shook her from the inside. “I threatened to turn him in, and he went crazy.”

  For more than a year, Lawrence had been addicted to drugs. Specifically, cocaine. They had tried everything to get him to quit using. Threats, pleas, nothing worked. As sheriff of their small hometown, he had a huge responsibility, but the drug was more important. Somehow, he managed to keep his addiction hidden from all his co-workers. Only Julie had seen the paranoia and rage it brought out in him. She’d told Laramie about it, but Laramie had never seen it firsthand.

  “I told him this was the final straw, and I was going to turn him in to the authorities,” Julie whispered. “And he hit me.”

  “He did more than hit you. He beat you.” Laramie’s stomach clenched with rage. She’d call the right people herself when she got Julie home. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Julie put her hand on Laramie’s arm. “There’s one more thing.”

  “What, sweetie?”

  “I lost a baby, too.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I had a miscarriage.”

  Laramie swallowed hard. She hadn’t known Julie was expecting.

  “I was waiting to tell you until I was sure I was past the danger zone.” Tears splashed down Julie’s cheeks. “I thought a baby might help us. You know, give Lawrence something to change for. And I’ve always wanted kids. You know that.”

  “Oh, Jules.” Laramie hugged her friend, taking care not to hurt her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Can I stay with you?”

  “Of course you can. Just like old times.” Julie’s mother had died when she was a teenager, and she lived with the Porter family until she and Laramie went to college together. When they came home, Julie and Lawrence met again and fell in love. It had been a dream come true for Laramie to have her best friend become her sister-in-law. How had that vision turned into this nightmare? She put her arm gently around Julie’s shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  • • •

  Laramie had settled Julie on the couch with a cup of hot tea when a car door slammed outside.

  Julie made a noise in her throat like a frightened fawn. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “Lawrence found me already.”

  Laramie’s pulse jumped up to mach speed, but she forced a reassuring smile for Julie. “Try to stay calm.” She motioned toward the kitchen. “Go in there and wait.”

  Julie froze as Lawrence pounded on the front door. Laramie waved frantically. “Call 911 while I stall him.”

  Pulling aside the lace curtain Laramie faced her brother through the small window at the top of the door. His coyote-lean face contorted with rage as he hammered on the glass panel until Laramie feared it would shatter. “Open up. I want to talk to my wife.”

  “I’m not letting you in until you calm down.” She put her palms on the window to emphasize her point.

  With both fists, he pounded near her face. “I’m not playing, Laramie. Let me in.”

  “He’ll break down the door if you don’t open it,” Julie whimpered. Although Lawrence had lost a lot of weight lately, he could still smash through the leaded glass. With a strangled moan, she fled.

  The back door opened, then slammed shut.

  She could handle her brother. Even though both were hot-tempered redheads, they’d never hurt one another. But what he’d done to Julie was beyond belief.

  Lawrence rattled the doorknob and shouted, “Open up, dammit.”

  “No.”

  “I mean it, Laramie.” He backed up and went into a linebacker stance.

  Seeing he was determined to force his way inside, she spun around and raced for the phone. Grabbing the landline, she dialed 911. When the dispatcher picked up, Laramie shouted, “I need help!”

  “What’s your emergency, ma’am?”

  He crashed his shoulder into the door, but surprisingly, it held.

  “My brother is trying to break into my house!”

  “Your brother?”

  “Yes, he’s the sheriff of Cliffside. He’s out of control — ”

  “Ma’am, the sheriff is already there?”

  “You don’t understand,” Laramie cried. “He’s trying to ram his way inside.”

  The lock gave, and the door flew open.

  Laramie dropped the phone as Lawrence charged through the ruined door. He grabbed Laramie’s arm and shook her. “Where’s my wife? I need to talk to her.” Spittle trickled from the corner of his mouth. Unshaven, with long, carrot-red hair and wrinkled clothes, he looked rough. The flat look in his l
ight brown eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She’d never seen him like this. Mad, yes. But never in a rage like Julie had described. Laramie was close enough to smell his stale breath when he spoke. “Don’t mess with me. Save us both some time and tell me where my wife went.”

  “She’s not here, Lawrence.”

  His gaze darted around, landing on the telltale suitcase leaning against the wall. The tags with Julie’s name written on them, still attached from the trip they’d taken to Cheyenne Frontier Days. Laramie fought to find a reason for it being there. “Julie loaned that to me. I’m going to Denver to see Mom and Dad … ” She owned plenty of her own suitcases.

  He made a fist and pulled it back. “Tell me where my wife is before I get doubly pissed off and make you talk.”

  “I called 911.”

  His gaze followed hers to the phone on the floor, just a few feet away. With frightening calm, he picked it up and spoke to the dispatcher. “Annette, it’s Sheriff Porter. Everything’s fine here. I have it under control. Just a misunderstanding. Thank you.”

  Laramie dug in her jeans pocket for her cell, but before she could dial, he whipped her around and shook her so hard the phone fell out of her hands and skittered across the floor. “You interfering little bitch. Any tiny argument, Julie runs over here, and you turn her against me.”

  “Julie’s my best friend — ”

  “She’s my wife,” he ground out from between clenched teeth.

  Laramie twisted against his iron grip. “Let go of me. You’ve been hitting her — ”

  “She’s lying.”

  “Bruises and black eyes don’t lie,” Laramie spit back. “Julie told me about the baby. That you beat her up so badly she miscarried.” Her stomach roiled even as she faced him down. Because of his drug abuse, she would never get the chance to meet her niece or nephew. “It’s over. Your marriage is done and probably your career, too. You need more help than Julie or I can provide.”

  “Shut up.” In a smooth motion, he twisted her arm behind her back until she cried out. With his other hand, he covered her mouth.

  Sobs caught in her throat as she fought to get out of his merciless grip. She wiggled and kicked at his ankles. Muffled screams fought to get out of her throat. Fear suddenly clouded her vision as he dragged her out of the kitchen and down the back steps. There was nothing out here but a back yard and a field.

  Furious barks alerted her to the presence of her two Australian shepherds, Zeke and Zephyr. They snapped at Lawrence’s legs, and he kicked viciously at them.

  “Damn dogs,” he shouted. “Get off me.”

  The fiercely loyal dogs weren’t phased by his curses and wild kicks. Zeke sank his teeth into Lawrence’s leg while Zephyr jumped at his elbow. With a cry of pain and rage, Lawrence let go and Laramie stumbled out of his grasp. Then fell.

  Ignoring the sting in her palms and knees, she scrambled up. Running blindly, she headed for the only refuge she could think of — the barn. Her terrified panting roared like a raging mountain stream in her ears.

  “You can’t hide,” Lawrence promised from behind her.

  A scream jumped out of her throat.

  Like the star lineman he’d been in high school, Lawrence dove for her. Seeing his large frame flying her way she tried to dodge, but caught her ankle on something. She threw out her hands too late and her temple slammed into hard, cold dirt … and the world went black.

  • • •

  Laramie blinked, trying to clear the stars in front of her eyes. For a minute, she wondered if she’d been trapped in a vivid nightmare. The sour, metallic taste of blood in her mouth and the way her right arm cried a protest when she moved it told her she was wide awake. She recognized the smell of hay, horses, and leather and realized she’d woken up lying in her own barn. Had one of the horses kicked her? No, that wasn’t right.

  Her own brother did this to her.

  How could the big brother she adored do something so crazy?

  Cocaine.

  What started from the use of legal, prescribed drugs for an on-the-job injury escalated to buying, selling, and using cocaine. Unable or unwilling to get help, the cop who once busted criminals now ran with them, but somehow he managed to hide his addiction from his co-workers.

  When she tried to push up, hot pokers jammed into her bicep.

  Blue denim caught the corner of Laramie’s vision, and she forced herself to a sitting position. She had to blink several times to make sense of what her eyes saw, but her mind refused to process.

  Julie lay on her back, her light hair soaked in blood. Her mouth formed an O, and her beautiful blue eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

  Dead.

  Dear God, no.

  Laramie’s hands curled into claws, nails raking her palms. She screamed until her voice died. From out of nowhere, Lawrence knelt beside her, and slapped his hand over her mouth. “Make no mistake, little sister, you’re going to pay for messing with my marriage. This is the last time you screw up my life. I’m not going to let you ruin everything for me.” He looked around with crazy eyes. “I’ve got to hide the evidence.”

  She moaned into his hand.

  “Get up.” Lawrence took his hand off her mouth and hauled her upright by her aching arm.

  Stars swam in front of Laramie’s eyes, and she fought to maintain consciousness. “Let me go.”

  “Don’t move.”

  Paralyzed by shock, all Laramie could do was stare in horror at Julie’s body. Her big brother did this. The boy who taught her to ride, to fish. The once fun-loving kid with freckles and a cowlick just killed his own wife. Laramie gurgled down another hysterical scream and looked for a way out of the barn. Lawrence and her three horses stood between her and the door.

  Before Laramie’s mind could fully wrap around his intent, he picked her up, carried her toward her silvery palomino gelding, Pale, and threw her astride the dancing horse. She grabbed the saddlehorn to keep from falling, barely able to stay upright. She swayed and the world went out of focus. “Lawrence, please, no.”

  “Shut up.” After he lashed her hands to the saddlehorn, he picked up Pale’s lead rope and tied him with the other horses. Sensing what he intended to do next, she forced back a wave of bile.

  As if Julie were nothing but a moldy bale of hay, Lawrence picked her up and tossed her limp body over the back of the buckskin. Although Dancer had packed game out of the mountains, he didn’t like the scent of human blood and shied. Lawrence jerked the lead rope. “Stand still, you idiot.”

  After lashing Julie’s body to the saddle, he tied Laramie’s horse to the buckskin’s saddlehorn, then swung onto the black mare aptly named Nightmare and roughly jerked her around.

  My God, he’d snapped. How was she going to get out of this? “Lawrence, stop. You can’t get away with this.”

  He ignored her, guiding the horses into the twilight.

  Looking anywhere but at Julie’s body, Laramie twisted her wrists trying to free them. Lawrence had her tied like a pig being hauled off to slaughter. If she didn’t find a way to get loose, she was going to end up with the same fate as an unfortunate swine. She would end up like Julie. “Zeke! Zephyr! Come!”

  Lawrence spoke without looking back. “Don’t bother calling those mutts. I took care of them.”

  “If you did anything to them, I’ll — ”

  “What?” He cackled. The noise sent a river of fear coursing through her. “What will you do?”

  Zeke, her brave blue merle. And Zephyr, the runt of the litter, tri-color and hazel eyes so pretty … Laramie had owned the dogs since they were pups, chosen from the same litter. Her constant, faithful companions … Tears burned her eyelids, and she blinked them away. And Julie. God. Laramie had been the maid of honor at their wedding. She couldn’t hold back her tears. “You’re going to pay for this, Lawrence. All of it. Killing Julie, the dogs, hurting me. You can’t get away with this.”

  “Can’t I? Who’s going to make me? You?” He jerked the l
ead rope again, and Dancer threw up his head in protest. “Shut up. Just shut the hell up.”

  “I won’t be quiet until you come to your senses. You’re already in plenty of hot water, but you can still do the right thing. Turn yourself in — ”

  He reined to a stop and looked over his shoulder at her. “If you don’t zip your lip, I’m going to finish you sooner than later. There’s no way I’m going to prison for the rest of my life.”

  Laramie clamped her mouth shut and tried not to sob. Not an ounce of the brother she adored sat in front of her. Nothing in his frozen eyes or his mean lips drawn tight looked familiar. Where was the brother who’d pushed her around the farm on his toy tractor? “Please don’t do this, Lawrence.”

  He halted, stepped off the black mare, reached in his pocket, and dug out a blue handkerchief. Holding the back of Laramie’s neck with an unyielding grip, he crammed the rag into her mouth. She forced down the boiling sobs burning up her throat. If she threw up, she’d choke to death. Breathing through her nose, she glared at Lawrence’s back as he turned away, remounted, and dragged a dead woman and another one scared half to death behind him.

  • • •

  Lawrence cut through the fragrant alfalfa fields around Laramie’s house and headed toward the forest. She was grateful for the purple shadows covering the land as night fell, making it difficult to see Julie’s body. Laramie’s stomach turned into a twisted knot of fear as she recognized where they were headed. The Big Misty, a trail high in the San Juan Mountains, often made invisible by the low-lying fog that never seemed to burn off. A treacherous path on a clear, sunny day, it could be a deathtrap when the low clouds hovered around the peaks.

  She fought to breathe in the clean mountain air. As they wound their way through the dark forest, she worked her tongue against the rag Lawrence had crammed into her mouth. Finally, it loosened enough that she managed to spit it out. Her tongue felt two sizes too big, but she breathed a bit easier. She turned her face toward her shoulder to muffle her sobs.

  If only she could get out of the knot holding her hands. But no matter how hard she twisted against the leather thong holding her hostage, the tie Lawrence learned in Boy Scouts held firm. A silver moon rose, sending slivers of light through the towering pine trees. For the first time, Laramie wished her horses weren’t so well trained and accustomed to riding in all conditions. If one of them would stumble, show Lawrence the danger he placed them in, just maybe he would come to his senses. Unfortunately, the horses were familiar with the trail, and Nightmare strode with confidence, the geldings following her lead.