Page 56 of Proof of Guilt

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A THUNDEROUS NOISE awakened Tory. She sat bolt upright in bed until her groggy thoughts began to make sense and she realized that someone was pounding urgently at the front door. Probably Keith. He had a habit of losing his key….

She tossed on a robe and hurried down the stairs. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called. “Hold your horses.”

“Thank God,” she heard a male voice say and grinned when she realized it belonged to Trask.

Jerking the door open, she felt her smile widen for the man she loved. “Well, Senator McFadden, what brings you back to the Lazy W at this hour?”

As she stepped onto the front porch, she was swept into Trask’s arms as he crushed her desperately to him. “Thank God, you’re all right,” he whispered against her wet hair. “If I ever lost you again…” His voice caught and the arms around her held on as if he expected her to disappear. “Where were you?” he demanded.

“When?”

“About twenty minutes ago.” Still he held her tightly, almost deliberately.

“I was here.”

“But I called. No one answered.”

“I was here,” she repeated. “Maybe you caught me when I was in the shower. I thought I heard the phone ring, but by the time I got to it, no one was there.”

“Lord, Tory,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “You had me half out of my mind with fear.” He slowly pulled his head back and stared into her eyes. “Where’s Paul Barnett?”

“The sheriff?” she asked incredulously. “Trask, what’s going on? Do you have any idea what time it is? Why would Paul Barnett be here?”

“Because I asked him to come. He’s supposed to be here, damn it!”

“Slow down, will you? You’re talking like a lunatic!”

The light from the hallway spilled onto the front porch and for the first time she noticed that his clothes were ripped and dirty and there were cuts below his right eye and on his chin. “Wait a minute,” she said, drawing away and gently touching his beard-darkened jaw. “What in God’s name happened to you?”

Trask’s eyes fell on her face and then looked past her to the interior of the house. It was then she noticed his haggard expression and the fact that he walked with a slight limp. Worry crept into her voice. “Trask? What’s going on?”

“Are you okay?”

“Looks like I should be asking you that one,” she observed, concern making her voice rough. “Trask, what happened?”

“Our friend from the ridge caught up with me.”

“What?”

Trask walked into the entry hall and began snapping on lights before he started looking into the corners of the rooms on the ground floor. Once a quick, but complete search of the lower level was accomplished, he started up the stairs and Tory followed him. “I was worried about you,” he finally explained, once all the rooms and closets were searched. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. You could have asked me, y’know, instead of walking in here and tearing the place apart like some kind of madman.”

He ignored her sarcasm. “Where’s Keith?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Sometimes he stays out late—”

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Trask stalked into the den. All of his muscles became instantly tense.

“Oh, no, Trask,” Tory whispered, following him into the study and understanding his anger. She tried to ignore the tiny finger of dread slowly creeping up her spine. “You’re not seriously trying to blame Keith for this—” she pointed at the disheveled state of his appearance “—are you?”

“I was hoping that he had an alibi.”

Tory’s eyes widened in horror. “You think Keith did this to you?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, Trask, no! You can’t be serious!” she said, her voice shaking as she clamped a hand over her mouth and tried to pull herself together. Reading the anger in his eyes she slowly let her hands fall to her side. “But you’re just guessing aren’t you? I take it you didn’t see who attacked you?”


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