Nighthawk & The Return of Luke McGuire by Justine Davis, Rachel Lee Read Free Book Online Page A

the night, except that the envelope on her desk was like a silent pressure, beckoning to her and tugging at her. Jo wasn’t one to waste paper or telephone calls. If she’d written, it was important enough to take the time.
    Still feeling reluctant, she limped to the desk, taking care to balance properly on her bad leg. It was a relief to lean against the desk and know for a few minutes that she wasn’t apt to fall if she didn’t pay strict attention.
    With a flick of her wrist, she turned on the desk lamp, then opened the letter. The note was brief and very much to the point.
    Dear Esther,
    I’m leaving for Europe in a couple of minutes and don’t have time to call, but I want you to hear this as soon as possible, and I don’t want you to hear it from anyone but me.
    You know I have a strict policy of not releasing client addresses or phone numbers, but in this case I’m afraid it has happened. One of my new employees couldn’t see any harm in giving your father the information….
     
    Esther crumpled the paper in her hands, unable to read another word. Her father knew where she was. He knew!
    Her mouth was dry, her palms damp, and her heart was hammering rapidly. The night which had seemed so beautiful only moments before was suddenly filled with threat. Her father might even now be somewhere in Conard County, Wyoming.
    How long had he known?
    Quickly, with trembling hands, she spread out the crumpled letter and searched frantically for the information. Jo didn’t say when the address had been given out, but her letter was dated the tenth, three days ago. That meant Richard Jackson had known his daughter’s whereabouts for at least that long and probably longer.
    Panic washed over her in hot and cold waves. She had to close the windows and lock them. Now! He might be out there watching, waiting, planning…. Oh, God, he had always hurt her at night. Always. Stinking of alcohol and his own vomit, he had filled the night with terror and pain.
    She locked the study windows swiftly, sobbing for breath as her heart continued to beat like a jackhammer. Limping painfully now, she hurried toward the living room to close those windows.
    Her knee buckled suddenly, sending her sprawling facedown in the hallway at the foot of the stairs. Oh, God, oh, God… Broken prayers wandered through her frightened mind as she gasped for air and waited for the shattering pain to subside. She felt so helpless…she was so helpless…
    She had no idea how long she lay there. The night whispered about her, touching her with soft hands. Somewhere an owl hooted sadly. Crickets chirped undisturbed. There was nothing in the darkness except her own terrors.
    Nothing.
    A bubble of laughter rose from her stomach. There was an edge of hysteria to it, and she caught it, refusing to let it escape. Forcing herself to draw slow, deep breaths, she reached for sanity, and found it in an image of her own panic. She had been acting like a damn fool, driven by images out of the past that had little bearing on the reality of now. For God’s sake, she was a grown woman, no longer a helpless, frightened child. If Richard Jackson showed his face on her doorstep, she would blow his head off.
    All she needed to do was get a gun. Just that. She would be safe then.
    Her knee hurt when she stood up again, but she ignored it. Pain was nothing new or frightening to her. It was merely an obstacle to be surmounted. She did, however, take care not to put her weight down wrong again.
    She locked the windows and locked the doors, then climbed painfully up to her room. Richard knew better, she told herself. After all these years in prison, he had to know better. He wouldn’t dare show up out here.
    But she couldn’t sleep anyway, and lay awake into the wee hours trying to think of something, anything, except Richard Jackson and how he probably wanted to kill her.

Chapter 3
     
    “G ood afternoon, Miz Jackson.” Deputy Sheriff Micah Parish climbed out of his Blazer