Liability Read online

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  The Fiction Works

  www.fictionworks.com

  Copyright ©1999 by N.C. Anderson

  First published by The Fiction Works, July 2004

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Chapter 1

  Sunnyville, California

  Heartsick and frustrated, Maggie Rand watched her friend Sue as she climbed into her car and headed for her own home down the street. She hadn't wanted to hurt Sue's feelings, but there hadn't seemed any way around it. Her friend just didn't understand how unbearable the situation had become, and though Maggie had tried, she couldn't make Sue understand that she no longer trusted Kenneth Remley. Her friend saw Ken as a hero, a real trooper. But it was Ken's constant prodding, accusations, and cryptic demands that were driving Maggie away from this house, this town.

  Maggie couldn't tell her friend how much she desperately needed to change her life now, or Sue would still be standing in the kitchen, arguing, and would probably tell Ken. The last person Maggie wanted knowing about her plans was the man she no longer considered sincere.

  She touched the rounded swell of her belly and felt the movement within. If things would just go right, she could have everything perfect and waiting for the baby. A new life, a new outlook, and the healing she needed.

  She glanced around the bare living room. She had to leave this house if she wanted to survive this nightmare. First she'd had to accept separation from Josh several months ago—Maggie stifled a sob—then she'd had to face the sudden deaths of everyone she had ever loved. It was ripping the heart from her chest; it was as if she were bleeding to death. She had found herself lying awake every night, listening for the boys—for their sweet laughter.

  And she couldn't bare hearing Ken maligning Josh or breathing down her neck for even one more day.

  Maggie went to the coat closet near the front door, opened it and removed a suitcase, thankful Sue hadn't seen her put it there. Sue and Jacob Campbell, were the best friends she'd ever known, but they would try and change her mind about the choice she had made. She knew that an argument with them would drain the last of her energy.

  Her two dogs, Shane and Cricket, danced around her as she reached for the front door knob. “This is the last of it,” she told them. “We'll be on the road in an hour."

  After placing the suitcase in her small utility trailer, she returned to the house and reached to open the front door. Shane, the biggest of the two dogs, began growling. Maggie turned to find out why.

  Muscular arms wrapped around her, and she found herself clamped tightly against Ken. The air whooshed from her lungs, forced from her body by the sudden collision with his broad chest and because he'd startled her. Not bothering to struggle against his superior strength, she rested against him until he relaxed his hold.

  Ken grinned amiably. “Why don't you put that ugly mutt somewhere so we can talk?” His voice was pleasant, but then, it always was. Maggie realized he wasn't asking, he was telling, and at that point Shane reacted to Ken as the animal always did, curling her lip and emitting a deep growl.

  You're so darned smart, Shane, Maggie thought, and you can see right to the heart of people. It had taken a while, but Maggie finally realized Shane was telling her something about Ken that she had avoided listening to even when she started experiencing an eerie, bone-chilling dread of him. Well, she was listening now. That chill was all around her.

  "What do you want, Ken? And by the way, this mutt stays with me all the time,” Maggie said softly, sweetly. “But, you already knew that."

  Ken's face registered an impatience she'd witnessed twice before. His caring act slipped more with each of his visits to her. With one hand clasped firmly on her arm, he wrenched the knob, opened the door, and guided her inside.

  "I said we need to talk, and I don't have much time."

  To Maggie's surprise, his voice was almost as much a growl as Shane's, who was right on his heels, plainly waiting for him to get out of line just a little more.

  Maggie shook his hand away and stepped beyond his reach. “All right, Ken, what is it you want?"

  He leaned against the door, his facade congenial again. “I have an important appointment in a few minutes. I stopped to let you know that I'll be picking you up about seven for dinner."

  His face appeared unemotional, yet his frosty, steel-gray eyes looked hard, and she knew he would never accept the no she intended to give him for an answer.

  He moved from the entryway toward her. “Tonight we have a client to impress,” he said. “Josh owed this client money. I need your help persuading him not to collect, but to make investments. We, you and I, are going to be extremely nice to him."

  Maggie turned her head quickly in an attempt to cover her real thoughts. The hell she was! She couldn't prove Ken was doing anything underhanded; but he was always evasive, and she didn't trust him any more than Shane did. This would be the second dinner he had arranged. The first one was shock enough as he wined and dined and persuaded a couple to extend the holdings of a trust instead of taking it to a different law firm for another opinion.

  Maggie had already given him a wealth of funds to cover what she and Josh owed jointly in their marriage. That was as far as she would take her responsibilities. If Josh actually had other debts, he had made them alone. Ken took the insurance money, she sold her home, her friends wouldn't listen to her doubts about Ken, and now—now she'd had enough.

  "Seven o'clock did you say?” She forced what she hoped was an innocent expression as she faced him.

  The look Ken turned on her said he thought she was a total idiot. She would be one too, if she allowed him to manipulate her any longer. She'd fallen for his act of friendship too easily. He had been Josh's boss, but Josh was dead.

  "Yes—and, Maggie, we're going to discuss the future. You obviously need my help to get some purpose back into your life. You've been muddling around in a dream-cloud for more than six months.” Ken seized both of her upper arms, and Maggie sensed a desperation in his grip and voice that she hadn't noticed before. “We have serious business to clear up, and it won't happen until you wake up."

  He suddenly released her. “You're nearly out of money. Some of the people Joshua became indebted to are thinking they should start some litigation against you.” Ken shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “All you need to do is sign some papers, and I can probably stop their initiative. I certainly wouldn't want to see your pretty little ass in jail."

  Maggie subdued the nervous fear his words created as once again he tried to shove her into a proverbial box; a cage that contained absolute destitution if she submitted. He would get no more of her money, because she would fight him. And the fight would take every last dime she had, every last dime she needed for her child. “Why would I go to prison for anything?” she asked, trying for the umpteenth time to force him to explain. “I don't know about Josh having other bills, or using anyone's money. Why don't you just clarify what you're talking about?"

  "People generally don't take it kindly when their money disappears. Separated or not, Josh was your husband and your name is on the investments. Now that he's gone, they have become your problem.” Ken's mouth narrowed in a grim line. “I think you should be more grateful for all the things I've done for you."

  Maggie ignored his last words. “If my name is on investment documents, then someone else put it there,” she said, g
ritting her teeth so tightly her jaw hurt.

  His expression was one of angry shock. He has to be lying she thought. His gestures and words were adding fuel to her suspicions. Ken had lived around the law since birth, and if anyone was clever enough to twist the system it was Ken. But the cost of an attorney, one honest and competent enough to prove her suspicions, would leave her in poverty. Maggie had made her choice; her child came first no matter what.

  Ken rubbed his index finger across his nose then dropped his hand to his side, visibly softening, then smiled and took her hand gently in his. “I apologize, Maggie, I shouldn't have said that. I was wrong. You haven't had enough time to recover. We have some complicated business investments to go over so you'll understand the seriousness of your predicament, and the whys and hows.” He moved forward. “We can talk about this when you're more relaxed and ready to understand the details."

  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her closer, his arrogant mouth coming toward her cheek. Maggie felt her ability to handle the situation slipping from her like a wet, squirming fish. With immense self-control, she swallowed the rage bubbling in her at his continued evasiveness. Questioning him further would gain nothing, and she might alert him to her plans if she spouted off in anger. She'd given him his last chance—enough was enough.

  He always wore expensive clothes and expensive cologne, but the scent burned inside her nose, and she hated the smell of it. Maggie couldn't stand the idea of his touching her and jerked away just as Ken bellowed a yelp of surprise. He stepped back and Maggie saw the reason; Shane's teeth firmly gripped the calf of his leg.

  Maggie knelt and, after a touch from her, Shane released Ken. She rose to her feet quickly, wondering what Ken would do next. If he tried the slightest violence, Shane would have hold of something much more vital than his leg. Although Shane had sound guard training, if she thought Maggie was in certain danger it might take a bit more than a touch from her to make the dog release him.

  "That damn dog will be out of here tomorrow. I'll see to it personally.” He was practically screaming with rage, and his face changed to a blotchy, dark red.

  "You!” he demanded, shaking his finger near her face, “be ready by seven o'clock.” He turned and strode to the door, yanked it open, and slammed it behind him.

  After waiting five minutes Maggie lifted her purse from the kitchen counter, called the dogs, closed and locked the door to the place she'd called home for most of her adult life. She got into the car and pointed it eastward.

  Chapter 2

  Three weeks later, La Vista, Arizona

  The oaths Benjamin Karr ground out were exclusively Yank-Military as he leaned with his horse, swerving sharply to cut off the cow sprinting for freedom in front of them.

  "Hey, Boss, you're too darned old for this. When you going to hog-tie a wife and let us young'ens handle the simple stuff?” Cliff bantered, laughing. Dirt and rock showered Ben as Cliff spurred his horse around him and drove the white-faced heifer back amongst the tightly bunched herd near the river.

  Ben shifted his horse out of the dirt cloud and onto the grass that lined the riverbank. “Mind your own business, Cliff,” Ben yelled back, grinning. “Marriage and doctoring don't mix—like I've told you before.” He knew Cliff was joking, and like all his men, loved needling him about being an ol’ man.

  Sometimes, at the ripe end of thirty-seven, he even felt antique. However, he meant what he said, even though there were times when not having found a wife to share everything with, not having children to love and be a continuance of his life did troubled him. But, regretfully, and with the exception of his psyche-matched parents, from what he'd observed, oil and water mixed better than doctors managed to combine the commitments of marriage and vocation.

  So what if his life had its lonely moments, it was running smoothly and exactly the way he wanted it.

  Ben urged his horse away from the river; guiding him toward the foothills they were working. He took a deep breath, enjoying the combined, zesty fragrances from the sagebrush and pines growing along the water's sloping banks.

  "Hey, Boss,” his ranch foreman yelled, shaking Ben from his thoughts. Joe Webb rode toward him with a serious frown that increased the various wrinkles in his normally craggy face.

  Ben checked the large, black stallion to a standstill and waited. “Easy, Shadow,” he murmured, brushing the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The Arizona sun smoldered over the land with its usual mid-summer gusto, and the gentle, steady movement of the clear, clean water in the shallow river exuded more invitations by the minute. If he gave an order for the men to have a swim and a lunch break before crossing the river, they would leap at it with lusty approval.

  Ben turned and faced the bigger man as he stopped beside him. “What's up, Joe?” Ben smiled. Joe didn't carry an ounce of spare flesh, and at times his six-foot-plus frame seemed built with the endurance of steel.

  "It's a strange thing, Doc, but you have to come and decide about this one.” Joe shook his head and gestured behind him. “I found tire tracks over there about a hundred yards. I know by the tread marks and tire size they don't belong to the ranch pickup, and it's the only vehicle we ever bring up here.” He hesitated. “Tracks have been there a while, too, because they're only visible in the bare dirt."

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “Cattle thief?” They'd managed more than once to deal with thieves.

  "I don't think so,” Joe answered, lifting his Stetson from his head and wiping his face with a faded-blue bandanna. “The tracks are far too narrow for anything a cattle thief might use—unless he's small-time and only wants one or two."

  "We'll investigate after I tell the men what we're doing.” Ben touched Shadow into a lope and headed toward the two men circling the forty-head of beef near the river. They'd only been here a few minutes and were fortunate to find most of the fugitive livestock grazing in the open land near the river.

  A brown cloud billowed behind the ranch pickup as it rattled away from the river and headed for the damaged fence line he'd ordered Kyle to repair.

  With the fence patched, they could soon end their hunt for strays. My backside already feels thankful that this is the last area, Ben thought, shifting to relieve the stiffness in his spine. He'd been in the saddle so many hours the past two weeks any groundwork around the ranch house sounded like a reprieve.

  A few yards away, Ben reined Shadow to a stop, waved his arm and whistled. Cliff turned his mount and raised his hand in response.

  "You and Tim hold them there, Cliff, until I'm finished helping Joe.” When Cliff nodded, Ben whirled Shadow and loped in Joe's direction.

  A deep, frenzied barking reverberated through the hills. Ben twisted in the saddle, swinging his gaze toward the boulder and brush filled foothills. A massive, red-gold dog barreled down the hill, zeroing in on the herd. Turning his horse without breaking stride, he galloped back the way he'd come with Joe right behind him.

  What the bloody hell was a dog doing out here? If it reached those Herefords they would scatter in forty different directions.

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  Eight minutes earlier in the foothills, two hundred yards above the river valley and hidden from sight in a secluded cave, Maggie blinked her eyes as she strained to focus them. She bemoaned that her whole body felt weak and useless from the fever that had sickened her the week before. It didn't matter; she had to get moving. She'd already stayed here too long.

  She wiggled into a sitting position, then reached for the small, gold frame lying beside her pillow. Slowly, tenderly, she traced a finger around each smiling face. It seemed utterly impossible to accept that they were gone—never coming back. Rocking back and forth, Maggie clasped the frame firmly against her chest and closed her eyes tightly.

  The photograph instantly brought to mind the vivid nightmare that had just awakened her, and nausea tugged at her stomach. Her little boys, reaching out to her, but she couldn't—Stop it! she told herself forcefully. Remembering merely
nurtured the persistent emptiness she struggled daily to overcome. If she could keep it pushed from her mind—maybe—maybe, she could persuade the dream to leave her in peace.

  Maggie set the photo on her pile of blankets, and settled back against her pillow as she glanced at the timeworn, honey-colored stone that surrounded her. Loneliness was something she was learning to live with. She'd had a year and a half to get used to marital separation; only then, she could still hope that Josh would come home. Only then, she still had her boys as the sunshine of her life ... no more laughter and games and touching, no more debating on homework, no more weekend camping and hunting trips ... no more family....

  It didn't prove healthy for her to love anyone—not healthy for the other person anyway. Starting with her mother and father and ending with Josh, little Joe, and Todd, her love had to be the jinx that snatched them away from her forever.

  She skimmed her hand across the swollen mound of her abdomen. She just couldn't lose this tiny life as well. In the beginning, in an attempt to protect herself from further shattered emotions, Maggie had avoided thinking about the infant growing in her womb, though it never worked as each movement of the little arms and legs made her crave to nestle her child to her breast. The child she and Josh had long ago given up having; the child she never had the chance to tell him about.

  Resolving to concentrate on the future, Maggie shook her head slightly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She had intended to pack and leave before noon, to drive to a town—a town big enough to get lost in—a place where she could breathe.

  Maggie rolled over, pushing up on one elbow. As she shoved the blankets away, a fuzzy warmth pressed against her, and a coarse tongue grazed across her hand. The little silver-gray poodle snuggled closer, whining softly.

  "I've got to find enough energy to get out of here, Cricket,” Maggie whispered, running her fingers over the dog's cottony fur. She wasn't a novice at roughing it. If her state of affairs were normal, she would love being here. Nothing was normal. The only term she could think of that fit her situation was Lying Low, and it certainly wasn't normal. She hadn't counted on getting sick, hadn't counted on staying this long. At least the flu, or whatever, was over now, except for feeling as frail as a noodle.