Finally, he was home, gritty-eyed and tired, but energized, too—buzzing to see Katie again. He had a lot to talk to her about. A lot. He’d been trying to call her ever since he reached stateside, but much to his disappointment, she wasn’t answering. One thing was for certain: with Katie being pregnant he was going to have to do something about the spotty phone service on top of that hill.
He’d finally reached the Mitchell place, only to see that Katie’s car was gone. His heart had dropped down to the vicinity of his navel. What if she’d gone away for good? She’d said she’d be okay when he left last week, but he’d suspected she was more hurt by his sudden trip plans than she let on. He should have told her more details about where he was going . . . about why he was going.
But truth be told, Rill hadn’t possessed a clear-cut reason for returning to Malacnoic. He felt like a fool as he considered trying to explain his actions to her. He’d known only in some vague way that if he wanted to move on with his life, the trip was necessary.
Learning of Katie’s pregnancy had galvanized him somehow.
He stormed into the house, feeling a small measure of relief when he saw all of Katie’s toiletries in the bathroom and her cell phone sitting on the kitchen table. He was back in the car within a minute of arriving, headed back toward town.
By the time he reached Vulture’s Canyon, the sun had dipped behind the western tree line, casting Main Street in long shadows. He saw Katie’s Maserati parked across the street from the diner and pulled into an empty spot with haste. He paused when he saw the eager face looking back at him.
“Barnyard?” he said, feeling disoriented by the sight of t
he dog who was the usual sentinel of the diner sitting in Katie’s Maserati’s passenger seat. He looked unusually clean and sleek. Something about the way Barnyard wiggled made him think the dog was wagging its tail like crazy.
Confused as he was by the unexpected image, his heart started to roll against his ribs and he had to smile at himself. Katie was here. He was like a fifteen-year-old about to encounter his first crush.
No, that wasn’t right. He’d never in his life felt like he did in those moments before he prepared to claim Katie. He’d never questioned the restraints he put on himself when it came to her before, because they’d been part of the air he breathed. Fact was, Rill had never really trusted himself before when it came to sex and love.
He hadn’t had much in the way of role models.
His distrust of his sexual nature and his embarrassment and denial of his family had been what had made him put Eden on some kind of unrealistic pedestal of womanhood. It’d been what had made him pull up short with Katie, leaving him unsure he could offer her anything substantial, especially when she deserved everything . . . the best.
In the end, it’d been Katie who had taught him that intense sexual need could be a genuine outlet for love. Maybe it was obvious to everyone else on the planet, but Rill guessed he was a slow learner.
He lunged out of his car, his gaze glued on the diner. He hauled up short in his energetic pursuit when he heard a woman’s muffled yell.
“Rill!”
Rill paused in the middle of the deserted street and watched in mounting puzzlement and concern as a cop car screeched to a halt twenty feet away. Sherona Legion practically fell out of the passenger door, she was in such a hurry to reach him.
“Marcus Stash has gone mad,” she said as she ran toward him. “He’s got a gun and he strapped enough dynamite on him to blow up half the block. He’s got a bunch of them in the diner!”
Sherona’s speech was so pressured and fast, Rill could hardly make her out. Sheriff Mulligan talking loudly on his radio while he sat in the driver’s seat with the door open didn’t help matters, either, especially when Rill heard the words “hostage situation.”
“Slow it down, Sherona,” Rill said as she drew up to him. He put his hands on her upper arms, trying to brace her.
She panted and swallowed, obviously trying to staunch rising fear. “He says if that man from the gaming commission—George Harlan—doesn’t refuse a recommendation for Miles Fordham to get a gambling license, he’ll shoot him and then blow up the place. He’s taken some hostages. He told me he’s strapped enough dynamite on him to blow up half the block. He put Monty on the phone, and Monty verified that everything Stash said was true.”
Rill just stared at Sherona’s pale face for a stretched moment. Her dark eyes were wild with anxiety.
“Is Katie in there?” he asked slowly.
A strange sensation like a burning chill went through him when Sherona nodded her head.
“She told me she’d look out for the diner while I ran home to check if my coffeepot is off. Rill . . . my little brother is in there, too. His friends said he walked in there just minutes before Marcus called me.” Sherona’s voice shook. “I can’t believe this is happening. Why is Marcus doing this?”
“It’s like you said. He’s gone a bit mad, I suppose,” Rill said, his gaze running over the ancient storefronts that lined the street. “How long have they been in there?”
“Marcus just called me on my cell phone not much more than five minutes ago. He told me to call Mulligan, and then have Mulligan call him back. I was lucky enough to catch Sheriff Mulligan while he was here in Vulture’s Canyon. Then I saw a couple of Derek’s friends walking home from practice, and that’s when they told me Derek had gone to the diner instead of home after practice. Derek must be in there.”
Rill tried to focus on Sherona’s face, but it was difficult with his mind churning through a thousand thoughts a second.
Katie was in there with a madman. What the hell would he do if something happened to her?
He acknowledged the icy blade of fear that seemed to have lodged in his chest and then he pushed it to the periphery of his consciousness.
“Okay, so let me get this straight. You ran to your house to check on your coffeepot and asked Katie to watch over the diner. Who else was in there?”