“Thank you,” Jade said quietly after washing them down with the water.
“Ready to go?”
Her beautiful face pale, Jade nodded. Chase steered the Hummer out of the parking lot and again headed toward his ranch. She turned her head and gave him a half smile as she placed her water bottle into the console’s cup holder. When he lay his hand, palm up, on the console, she placed her hand in his. But in the next breath, she let go and picked up her water bottle.
A couple of miles down the road, Jade said, “It wasn’t until late last night I realized the tea and what little food I ate had clouded my concentration and put me to sleep.”
Chase swung his head toward her. “That son of a bitch drugged you?”
“Yes. I figured it out later than sooner.”
“Dammit!” Chase smacked the wheel with both hands, then checked his anger for her sake and said, “Would be hard for anyone to realize they were drugged while being kept under its influence.” Redirecting his thoughts, he nodded to the black bag at her feet. “A blonde woman showed up at your house in an Audi. Whatever’s in that bag, she’s who put it in there.”
“Had to be Greta, their—housekeeper. How do you know about the black bag?”
Chase briefly explained having met Bill, Carol, and Bella. “Go on with remembering what happened.”
“Tuesday night, when I woke up, I was in that strange bedroom. There were heavy drapes at the windows and a framed photo of Franco on a glass table. While Margo sat guarding me, pretending she cared, Franco and Mateo entered the room. Franco summoned Greta, who brought up a bowl of soup and tea. The women left the room, and the last thing I remember was Franco watching me as Mateo urged me to relax.”
Chase wanted to kill the Spatafores. Hell, he knew, with a word from him to the Sons of Steel, the bodies would never be found. “I never should have agreed to you going back to their offices without some kind of a backup plan.”
“Chase, it wasn’t your call, and none of this is your fault.”
“I didn’t mean it was my call. But some of the blame is on me. You and I both knew Franco was bound to be pissed when you showed up at work. But what pushed him off the deep end was when the private investigator he hired found my Corvette in your driveway.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said and covered her mouth.
Chase pulled over to the side of the road near Chloe’s ranch. “Want to get out?”
Eyes closed, Jade gave a small shake of her head and then sat still for a moment. Upon opening her eyes, she saw the Triple C Ranch-West sign Martyman had restored to its place. Chase sensed her tension fade a little, and she said she thought she could make it to his ranch.
* * *
The sun was shining,and it was a beautiful day because no matter how horrible the previous two nights had been, this morning he had Jade safely back with him. They said no more, and within minutes, he turned into his horseshoe driveway. He pulled in under the portico and hopped out of the Hummer. Coming around to Jade’s side, she had already opened her door, but he helped her alight and grabbed her black bag. She slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder, and he took her arm to steady her.
“One week ago today, I met you in this same exact spot,” she said, tugging her arm from him as they walked to the double front doors. “Right?”
“Right.” He noted she’d broken physical contact again. He opened a door, let her into the house first, and locked the door behind them. “Does this feel okay?” The last thing he wanted was for her to feel imprisoned.
“Yes,” she said as they walked, not touching, into the great room. She gazed straight ahead and, with a weak smile, whispered, “YourGone with the Windstaircase.”
He smiled. “Are you hungry? Want a shower? Need to sleep?” Whatever she wanted or needed, he would see to it she got it.
“Yes. I just don’t know in what order.” She looked down from her wrinkled dress to her scuffed shoes and said softly, “No matter who tried to convince me I should shower and change clothes, I refused. This dress was like a security blanket. I’ve been in it since Tuesday.”
“I remember,” Chase said as they walked toward the master bedroom. “If you wantto take a shower first, you might feel better.” Inside his bedroom, he set the black bag on the cedar chest, and Jade placed her purse next to it. “Up to you.”
“A shower first,” she agreed, letting him escort her into the master bath. “Oh my God,” Jade whispered, staring into the mirror above the double sinks.
As Chase stood behind her, the mirror reflected her long blond hair in tumbleweed tangles. Dark circles puffed the skin under her emerald eyes. What he figured was mascara had smudged an eyelid, and her red lipstick had long since faded. No matter. To him, she was perfect.
When Jade’s gaze moved to his torn shirt and bloody left arm, she flattened her hands to the sink to steady herself. Her eyes briefly met his in the mirror with a stare of disbelief at what the Spatafores had done to both of them. She pointed to the toilet, and he helped her get there. She leaned over his left arm as he grasped her hair and held it out of her way. She wretched, but nothing came up. When she stood, he put the toilet seat down, and she sat. Arms folding across her tummy, she didn’t meet his eyes as if humiliated by it all.
“I’ll bring you the bag with your clothes in it.”
“What about you?” Jade asked, glancing at him like a lost waif. “You’re hurt.”
“I told you, I’m fine. I’ll shower when you’re done.”
