ANGEL MEETS THE BADMAN Read online

  But that didn't bother her. The killer would be caught in time, and Jake would be exonerated, because that was the only way it could possibly be. It was right.

  But Sara did still have some fears to contend with.

  Every day, as she sat in the room that had once been Jessi's and wrote long, long letters to Jake, she was afraid. Because so far … he hadn't written back. Or called. Or sent a message to her via Flossie or Bert or Trent, all of whom Sara had been in contact with on a regular basis.

  Her fear was that he blamed her. He wouldn't have been caught if not for her. He would have been long gone, if she hadn't made him stay, time and again, when he'd wanted to head for the border.

  Chelsea kept saying he was too proud to write to her from prison. That he was likely dealing with a thousand emotions at once, being behind bars again, and that he would be much more able to deal with his feelings for her once he got out.

  But Sara didn't think so. It was her fault he'd ended up behind bars. And even though she was certain the DNA tests would clear him, she was beginning to wonder if he would bother getting in touch with her when that happened.

  Her other fears came at night, when she lay awake in bed and thought about Jake sleeping in a jail cell in Louisiana. She dreamed about Officer Kendall coming into Jake's cell and beating him bloody while Jake was helpless to defend himself. She dreamed that by the time Jake's name was cleared, he would be gone. That somehow the angry cop would make him disappear without a trace.

  Garrett kept trying to tell Chelsea that Kendall wasn't that bad a guy … but she didn't believe him.

  Then finally, a day she'd been waiting for arrived. It dawned bright and sunny and filled with promise.

  The entire house brimmed with excitement, because it was the first day of school, and little Bubba, Chelsea and Garrett's son, was about to head off to kindergarten for the very first time. The entire Brand clan was on hand for breakfast that morning, all of them bubbling with well wishes for little Bubba, all bringing gifts for the big day. Pencil cases and backpacks and a baseball cap and ice cream money.

  And the other reason the day dawned with such promise was the phone call Garrett received first thing. He set the phone down and turned to face the crowd around the kitchen table. "Sara, you were right. The DNA results cleared Jake Nash of any suspicion in his cousin's murder."

  Sara sighed her relief, and Wes smiled at her. "Well, it seems I was wrong after all, Cuz. Congratulations."

  "When will he be released?" Sara asked, nearly breathless.

  "Already was," Garrett replied. "They let him go last night."

  A tiny frown and a knot of worry hit Sara then, but she tried to swallow both. So Jake hadn't called her last night. It didn't mean he never would. Maybe it had been late, and goodness knew he must have had tons of other things to do.

  "He'll call," Chelsea whispered, clasping Sara's hand.

  Sara nodded, tried to believe it. But she was sick and tired of waiting for Jake to call her. The moment everyone seemed distracted with Bubba again, she slipped upstairs to her bedroom, which used to be Jessi's a long time ago, and used the phone there to call Sugar Keep.

  Flossie picked up on the first ring.

  "Flossie, hi! It's Sara."

  "Oh, Sara! Oh, hon, I'm so glad you called. Did you hear the news?"

  "Yes. Garrett just told me. I'm so glad … but not surprised."

  "Of course not, child. We all knew Jake was innocent all along. But I can tell you, he was more surprised than anyone when he realized it had been proven and the charges dropped. Why, I think he had convinced himself that he was going to be serving a life sentence, guilty or not!"

  "I know. I know. Flossie, is he there? I really need to talk with him."

  Flossie was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Hon, I … well, I'm just as mixed up as can be. He and Trent have both taken off. I thought Jake was with you."

  "With me?" Sara's stomach got queasy.

  "Well, he was back here last night. Bert made a special dinner to celebrate, and … oh, I wish you'd been here. But then Jake said he couldn't stay. That he had something to take care of, and he left. I … well, I assumed he was going to get you, Sara. I mean… Well, now I'm darned if I know what that boy is up to. Surely if he were headed to Texas, he'd have made it long before now."

  Sara sighed. "Listen, if you hear from him, will you give me a call? I'll be at Quinn Elementary School. I'll give you the number and the address."

  "All right, hon. Just let me grab up a pen."

  Sara gave Flossie the information, Flossie wrote it down and read it back to be sure it was correct. "Don't worry, Sara. I just know he'll be in touch. Why, you're all that boy has talked about since he got home. And every visiting day, and … well, he'd likely rather tell you himself."

  "I'm glad you told me, all the same," Sara said. "Thank you, Flossie."

  "You're just as welcome as can be, hon."

  Every member of the Brand family stood at the bus stop in front of the big, curving wooden Texas Brand arch that curved high above the driveway. Every big, tough cowboy on the place seemed a little misty-eyed, especially Garrett, when the yellow bus groaned to a halt in front of the arch. Air brakes hissed. The door folded open. A round-faced woman smiled down at where little Bubba—otherwise known as Garrett Ethan Brand, Jr.—stood tall, hitching his backpack up higher onto his shoulder.

  "Now you're sure you want to ride the bus?" Chelsea asked, her eyes moist, lip trembling whenever she stopped biting it. "Because Sara's driving right in, anyway, and you could ride with her, and—"

  Garrett's big hand closed on Chelsea's shoulder at the same moment little Bubba said, "I can't ride to school with my teacher, Mom." He sent his dad a look that said females would never understand anything.

  Garrett reached down to straighten his son's backpack. "You have a good first day, Bubba. Don't forget who you are, now."

  "I won't, Dad." The boy leaned closer, tugged his father's shirtsleeve until Garrett leaned down. Way down. Bubba's whisper was loud enough for all to hear, though it was obviously meant to be just between him and his father. "Be sure and take care of Mom, today. I think she's gonna miss me something awful."

  Garrett smiled fully and nodded. "I'll make her some of those brownies she likes this afternoon, keep her mind off things. How's that sound?"

  Bubba tilted his head to one side. "Save me one?"

  "You know it, big guy."

  Bubba nodded once, turned, squared his shoulders and marched right up the steps and onto the bus. Chelsea smiled so hard Sara thought her face would break as she waved goodbye. And she managed not to burst into full-blown tears until the school bus had rolled completely out of sight, thank goodness.

  By then Garrett had wrapped her up tight in his great big arms, though, so Sara knew she would be all right.

  "I wish you wouldn't worry," she assured her cousin. "You know I'm going to take extra-special care with him."

  Chelsea sniffed. "I know you will, hon. That's why I asked them to put him in your class. You know there's no one I trust more with my little angel. It's not that I'm worried … it's just—" she sniffled again "—it's hard letting him go."

  Around them, the others all seemed on the verge of tears, too. Jessi held her toddler, Maria Michele, a bit closer than before, and Ben reached over to stroke his baby's fuzzy blond hair away from his face. Wes hugged his wife from behind, his hands stroking her swollen belly, and Elliot's wife, Esmeralda, every bit as large in the middle, gripped El's hands tight and blinked away tears of her own. Marcus and Casey, with no babies yet, and none on the way, either, only stood arm in arm. They were the only two not on the verge of shedding tears.

  Everyone, though, childless or not, had someone to hold. Everyone except Sara. She thought again of Jake, wondered where he was now, what he was doing. Whether he ever thought of her at all. If a single second they'd spent together had ever meant a thing to him. Oh, he'd tried to tell her it hadn't. But she'd stu
bbornly refused to believe that. She had been so certain that what she was feeling inside was stirring a corresponding flood of feeling within him. So certain that he must love her, too.

  Maybe he'd been right when he'd accused her of living in a fairy-tale world, of being naive for always expecting a happy ending.

  "I should go," she said suddenly. "It wouldn't look very good if the kids beat me to school the first day, would it?"

  "The bus takes half an hour, Sara. You can make it in five minutes," Chelsea said. She gave a sniffle and dabbed at her eyes.

  "Yeah, well … still." She left them all standing there and headed quickly to her car. "Try not to worry too much," she called back. "Nothing eventful ever happens on the first day of school, you know. It's all routine, and Bubba will be back home before you know it." She forced a smile, got into her car and started the engine and wondered why she had felt a cold chill rushing up the back of her neck as she'd said those words.

  It was 2:45 p.m. Sara looked around the classroom at the sleepy eyes of her kindergartners. Chubby cheeks and baby teeth. They were still so small, so sweet.

  It had been a full day for them, and they were tired now. Thank goodness it was almost time for dismissal. They could go home, get some rest.

  Personally, she wanted to go home too. Call Sugar Keep again. Because if Jake wanted to cut himself off from her, well, that was fine. But he was damned well going to tell her so. She wasn't going to be left hanging, hoping, wishing, waiting, not knowing.

  "You guys did great today," she told the class. "I think you're my best class ever!" A couple of faces brightened. Bubba smiled broadly at her.

  "Now, have you all got your backpacks and jackets?" She scanned the room, seeing that they did, even as the children nodded. "And is everyone wearing their name badges we made today?"

  Weary heads nodded again, several small hands going to the construction paper badges pinned to their shirts. Each had the student's name and bus number written on it in bright blue marker.

  "All right, then," Sara said. "It will be time to go to the buses in five minutes. I want you to have some quiet time until then."

  They needed it, and then some.

  Sara walked around the room, stroking a head here and there, until the soft buzz of the phone on her desk distracted her. She went to it, picked it up. "Yes?"

  "Miss Brand, there's a man here in the office who says he needs to see you. His name is Jake. Jake Nash."

  Sara's heart leaped into her throat, and her eyes moistened instantly. "Can you give him a visitor's pass and send him to my room?" she asked. She could have waited five minutes, gone to Jake in the office after loading the children on their buses. But she couldn't wait. She just couldn't. She had to see him now. Heck, he could just walk with her out to the buses.

  "Of course, Miss Brand. I'll send him right down."

  "Thank you." Smiling ear to ear, Sara hung up the phone. She tried to tell herself not to be so excited. Tried to warn her heart that Jake might very well be there only to tell her that he'd decided things could never work out between the two of them. He could be there to break her heart beyond any hope of repair.

  But maybe not. And she couldn't silence the joyous laughter of hope in her heart

  She nervously ran her hands over her hair, smoothed her dress.

  The kids got up when the bell rang and pleased her greatly by remembering to put their chairs up on top of their desks. Then they lined up at the door, just the way she'd taught them, and Sara stepped to the front of the line. As soon as Jake arrived, she would lead the kids out. He could walk beside her. And they would talk. And maybe he would hold her hand.

  The school nurse's smiling face appeared at the door. A man was standing behind her, but Sara could only see his shoulders. Fiona, the nurse, wriggled her fingers in a friendly wave as Sara opened the door. She was one of Sara's favorite people at the school. Thirty-five, married to a doctor from the hospital in El Paso, she looked half her age, with her slight build, red-gold ringlets and smooth skin.

  "Your friend seemed a bit lost, so I volunteered to guide him in," Fiona said, smiling.

  Swallowing hard, Sara looked up. "Jake, I…" Then the words died on her lips as Trent, not Jake, looked down at her. "Trent? I don't … you're not…"

  He shoved Fiona into the classroom, coming in with her and slamming the door behind them.

  "Hey!" Fiona said, spinning around.

  But she went still when she saw the same sight that Sara did.

  Trent was standing there with a gun in his hand.

  Sara lunged, acting on sheer instinct, and hit the button on the wall. The alarm went off immediately. Within seconds the entire building would be cleared.

  "Dammit, what did you go and do that for!" Trent growled.

  One of the little girls started to cry. Trent glared at her. Then he nodded at the school nurse. "Take the kids to the back of the room. Sit 'em down and keep 'em quiet. Understand?"

  Fiona nodded. Her eyes met Sara's, and Sara saw the fear in them, but also the message: It'll be okay. We'll get through this.

  Sara hoped to God her colleague was right.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  « ^ »

  "Please don't hurt the children," Sara said softly. "Trent, whatever has happened, I promise you, we can work through it. I'll help you through it … and so will Jake."

  Trent's face twisted in a grimace. "Don't try to pretend you don't know what this is about, Sara. I know you saw me that night."

  Sara blinked and felt her body go cold. It was as if the heat drained right through her feet and into the floor, and she felt chilled to the bone. "It was you," she whispered.

  "It was me," he said. "And you've probably already told the cops that. They didn't believe you then, but now… It doesn't matter. You'll never live to testify, Sara. I'm here to make sure of that."

  "Trent … you're wrong. Jake was released because of the DNA testing, not because of anything I said. The tests they did proved him innocent, and the same tests will prove you guilty—whether I testify or not."

  "You're lying! The DNA testing was all taken care of. Kendall saw to that."

  Sara went stiff. "How, Trent? How did Kendall … see to that?"

  "Switched the samples."

  Sara closed her eyes. "And Garrett thought I was crazy," she muttered.

  "What?"

  "Listen, Trent, I never trusted Kendall. I asked my cousin, the sheriff of Quinn, to see to it that the DNA testing was done properly. He had a friend of his from the FBI lab go to the morgue personally and take fresh samples from under Vivienne's nails. The ones Kendall switched were never even tested."

  "You lie. There is no DNA evidence, I told you. That was all just a smokescreen. So I wouldn't come after you. But it's all you, Sara. You're all they have on me, and I know it. I can't let you testify."

  "I never saw your face," she said.

  Trent's eyes narrowed as he lifted the gun and pointed it at Sara. "Maybe you're telling the truth. But I can't take that risk."

  Another child began to cry, and then another. "Please," Sara whispered. "Not in front of the children."

  Trent glared at her. "You're up to something."

  "No, I'm not. I saw my parents murdered when I was a little younger than these kids, Trent. Believe me, it's the kind of thing that haunts you forever. You don't want to do that to these kids. They haven't done anything to you." As she spoke, Sara glanced behind her at the children. Most of them were crying, their faces damp. Fiona looked pale and shaken as she sat on the floor hugging as many of them to her as she could get her arms around. Several more were crowded behind her. And then there was little Bubba. He sat still and tall, clinging to no one. And the look on his face said that the five-year-old was liable to charge Trent at any moment or throw something at him. He was furious, fuming, red in the face.

  Sara met Bubba's eyes and gave her head a very subtle shake from side to side. "No," she mouthed.

>   Swallowing hard, Sara spoke to the children. "I want you all to be very quiet and very good for me. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. Fiona, maybe you could read the kids a story, hmm?"

  Nodding, Fiona reached for a book from the shelf behind her. Sara could hear the buses moving now, moving away from the school. No sirens … not yet. But there would be. It was a sad, sad state of affairs that schools had to be equipped the way they were these days. But Sara was fully glad of it at the moment. The button she had pushed was linked not only to the rest of the school, but to the Quinn Sheriff's Office, as well.

  Garrett should be on his way. And he wasn't stupid. Once he saw that everyone had made it out of the school except for Sara and her class … he would know exactly what was going on.

  One of the kids got up. "On the floor," Sara said quickly. There was no doubt in her mind that a SWAT team would be on hand at any moment, and she didn't want her kids in the line of fire. Fiona seemed to understand. She gathered the children closer, whispered instructions to them—probably, Sara thought, explaining that they should not stand up for any reason.

  "Now, you come with me."

  Sara stood where she was. "I never saw your face, Trent. I swear, I didn't."

  "It doesn't much matter at this point, now, does it? Whether you knew before or not … you know now." He waggled his gun toward the door.

  Stall him, Sara thought wildly. And not with talk of the DNA tests, because he'd deluded himself into believing his scam with Kendall had worked. Stall him, because if you go with him, you're dead. The minute he gets you alone, he'll kill you.

  On the other hand, maybe it would be better to just let it happen. At least the kids would be safe.