“No…oh, God, no,” she cried, desperation and fear contorting her face.
He placed one hand over hers. “Neva?”
There was silence, tense unbearable silence. Only the sound of the clock ticking over the mantel disturbed the quiet.
“Look, it’s obvious that someone got to you and used Nicholas’s safety as part of a threat. I just want a name, Neva.”
“I don’t know…”
Trask’s fist coiled over her fingers. “Just one name!”
“Oh, Trask,” she whispered, closing her eyes and slumping in the chair. “There is no name….” Her voice was shaking and she let her head drop into her hands. “Oh, God, Trask, I’m so scared,” she whispered. He placed his arms around her and she tried in vain to stem the flow of her tears. Instead she began to sob against his shoulder. “I’ve been getting these calls—horrible calls—”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know. Some man. He threatened me. Told me that if I didn’t convince you to forget about the horse swapping swindle that…that…he’d take Nicholas from me…hurt him.” She was shaking violently. “I was afraid to tell anyone.”
White-hot rage raced through Trask’s blood and all of his muscles tensed. “You should have told me,” he ground out, pushing away from the chair.
“Probably,” she admitted. “For the first time in my life I didn’t know what to do. And the man insisted that I wasn’t to tell you anything, or—” her anguished eyes searched Trask’s bruised face “—or one of us would be hurt. And now look at you…look what he did….”
“Nothing’s going to happen to Nicholas,” Trask swore.
“How can you be sure—look what happened to you!”
Trask’s eyes sparked blue fire. “I’ll see to it that you’re safe. Not only are we going to call Paul Barnett and tell him what’s going on, I’ve got a friend, a private investigator, who’ll put a twenty-four hour watch on you and Nicholas.” He checked his watch. “Paul’s probably already on his way to the Lazy W.” Quickly he punched out the number of the sheriff’s department and got hold of Deputy Woodward, who promised to come directly to Neva’s house.
“I don’t need to be watched,” Neva stated, gathering her courage as Trask hung up and immediately redialed the phone.
“Don’t argue with me, Neva,” Trask nearly shouted just as the groggy voice of John Davis answered the phone. Again, Trask told his story and John promised to send a detective to Neva’s home as well as have someone survey the comings and goings at the Lazy W.
“What are you planning?” Neva asked, once Trask had hung up the phone and was slipping his arms through his shirt.
“A deputy from the sheriff’s department, a man by the name of Greg Woodward is coming over here tonight.”
“No.”
“Just listen to me, damn it. Woodward is going to take your statement and wait until one of John Davis’s men arrives. Then he’s going to meet me and Sheriff Barnett at the Lazy W.”
“You’re going back to see Tory?”
Trask’s face hardened and his eyes darkened murderously. “If someone is dead set on discouraging me, I’d be willing to bet that the next person they’ll approach is Tory.”
Neva’s mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”
“I mean simply that I’m worried about her. While we were at Devil’s Ridge, someone took a shot at us.”
“No!” Neva looked half-crazed with fear. Her face went deathly white and she glanced from Trask to the loft where Nicholas was sleeping so peacefully and back again. “I can’t believe this is happening. All because of some damned note!”
“Believe it.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” she whispered.
There was a sharp knock at the door and Trask opened it to find Deputy Woodward on the doorstep. After assuring himself that Woodward had contacted the sheriff and was following Barnett’s orders, Trask half ran to the Blazer, shoved the truck into gear and drove toward the Lazy W.
* * *