Part 58 (1/2)

She was about to speak when he waved her to silence, and she fell back on old habits, instantly closing her mouth and cutting off what she was going to say.

She had lived free in the badlands and with Logan. Once again she was a slave, just as she had been in Sun Acres.

And she was standing in front of the man who had raped her. She had never used that word in her own mind. But Logan had made her understand that it was true. And now she was back in Falcone's clutches. A slave who had no rights.

He turned to one of the guards. ”The old man has served his purpose. Get rid of him,” he ordered.

Despite everything, Rinna gasped out, ”No. Please. You don't have to... kill him.”

”I'm afraid I do.” Falcone studied her with a smug expression on his face. ”He followed orders and led me to you.”

”Because you made him do it.”

He shrugged. ”If you say so.” He turned and spoke over his shoulder. ”Let's go to my tent and have a chat,” he said.

She knew her face must have given away how sick she felt, because he smiled at her.

She tried to reach out to Haig, to find his mind with hers. But he had closed himself off from her, and she knew it was because of his shame.

Guards flanked her sides, back and front, as they marched toward the tent, toward her doom.

JAKE pulled in at the Marshall driveway and came to a stop in front of the house. As he cut the engine, Marshall came charging out the door.

Jake stared at him appraisingly. Actually, he looked like he could have spent the night in a flophouse. His hair was uncombed, his s.h.i.+rt was stained and sticking to his skin, and a day's growth of beard darkened his cheeks.

He was clutching a T-s.h.i.+rt in his hand, holding it out like he was offering it over as evidence. But as soon as he saw Jake, he dropped his arm.

Jake got out of the car and walked toward him, keeping his arms casually at his sides.

But Marshall's eyes were instantly wary. ”What do you want?” he asked.

”To talk about the Easy Shopper.”

”I told you, I wasn't there, except to buy some batteries the day before the robbery.”

”So you say.”

”What's that supposed to mean?”

”When I was here last time, I got your prints from the door handle of your SUV.”

Marshall's stance turned aggressive. ”That's an invasion of privacy.”

”You could say that. You could also say they match the prints on the can of pork and beans you brought down on Tony Blanchard's head.”

”I guess I picked up the can when I was in there last week,” Marshall said coolly. ”When I bought the flashlight batteries. I was going to buy the beans, but they were too expensive.”

”Is there some reason why you don't want to get involved in the investigation?”

Marshall hesitated. It looked like he was about to answer when another SUV pulled up the driveway.