Beverly Barton - The Outcast

"I'll think of something."

Elizabeth stood on the screened-in back porch, watching Reece until he rounded the side of the house. He would never agree to her going with him. She had to think of an alternative plan. Without her, Reece didn't have a prayer of finding B. K. Stanton's killer.

Reece could never understand the type of sacrifice she was willing to make for him, and it was probably best that he didn't know. Leaving the sanctuary of her home in the mountains meant having to face the world, to be bombarded with people's thoughts and feelings, to see into the futures of strangers. She had spent her entire life trying to control her abilities, and to some degree she had achieved that goal-but only to a degree. Often she had no control whatsoever over the visions, over the intense emotions coming from others, over the premonitions that sometimes only a look or a touch from someone triggered within her mind.

Her special talents were as much a curse as a blessing. Thank God her family had brought her to Aunt Margaret instead of trusting her future to scientists who would have used her as a guinea pig, or to charlatans who would have used her in money-making schemes.

She had chosen her solitary life here in her ancestors' Georgia mountains. Surrounded by nature, shielded from the thoughts and emotions of a town filled with people, Elizabeth found peace and purpose. Nothing and no one had ever tempted her to venture far from Sequana Falls since her college years, except one necessary visit to Sam six years ago to bring him home from Atlanta-a trip she wasn't eager to repeat.

And now she was preparing to go back out into the world, to follow a man she barely knew, to expose herself to the trauma of mixing and mingling with people. How could Reece Landry have come to mean so much to her in such a short period of time? But five months wasn't a short period of time, was it? For some people it was a lifetime. She had known Reece in her heart far longer than the few days he'd spent at her cabin.

A higher power had sent Reece to her. She knew that fact as surely as she knew Reece Landry was her destiny, and she his. No one had ever needed her the way Reece did. Not only did he need her to help him prove his innocence, he needed the warmth and caring she could give him to vanquish the loneliness he had endured his whole life.

Just as Elizabeth heard the telephone ring, she saw Reece coming around the house, heading for the back porch.

"That's Sam calling," she told Reece, then ran inside, racing toward the living room. Breathless and nervous, she picked up the telephone. "Sam?"

"You sound funny. Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

"I was on the back porch. I ran." Elizabeth took several deep, soothing breaths. "What did you find out?"

"You've gone and gotten yourself involved with a real bad boy. Reece Landry's been in trouble since he was a kid."

"I know that. Reece told me all about his childhood run-ins with the law. So what else did you find out?"

"Look, kiddo, there's a possibility that Landry murdered B. K. Stanton. A lot of people who know him agree that he has a real killer instinct."

Elizabeth sighed. How could she persuade Sam that he was wrong? "Reece may have a killer instinct, but he doesn't possess the soul of a killer. You, of all people, should understand the difference."

Sam didn't respond. Elizabeth felt the hesitation, knew he was having difficulty accepting a truth he could not deny. Finally he said, "Point well taken."

Elizabeth sensed Reece's presence behind her before she turned to face him. She mouthed the words "It's Sam." Reece nodded.

"There are other suspects, aren't there?" Elizabeth asked. "You must have found out something."

"Hey, I've had less than twenty-four hours to dig up information," Sam said.

"So tell me what you've found out."

"There's a chance Landry is innocent."

Smiling, Elizabeth glanced at Reece, the trust and confidence she felt showing plainly in her expression. "Go on. Tell me more."

"The whole thing was too neat, too pat to suit me. Landry's gun, no fingerprints on the gun, some of the tests were inconclusive, eyewitnesses who caught him at the scene, a motive of hatred and revenge and the strange coincidence that Landry had been invited to Stanton's home that night, for the first time in his life." Sam paused for a moment. "I'd say the man was framed."

"Who could have framed him?"

"Now, that's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. But I'd say other members of Stanton's family are prime suspects. Especially the son, Kenny. Seems he and his father didn't get along, and Kenny hates Landry."

"Sam, Reece is going to need your help. He's planning on leaving today to go back to Newell. I want to go with him, but-"

"Dammit, Elizabeth, you aren't putting your life at risk by going with that man! Do you hear me?"

"The elephants in India can hear you."

Reece grabbed the phone out of Elizabeth's hand. "Dundee, you don't have to worry. I'm not taking her with me."

"Damn right you're not!"

"I'm borrowing Elizabeth's Jeep, but I'll make sure she gets it back, somehow. I don't want her involved in this any more than she already is. If you've found out anything that can help me, I'd appreciate you telling me now."

"From what little I've found out, I'd say there's a good chance you were framed. A smart man would turn himself in to the law before they shoot first and ask questions later. Your lawyer can appeal the case."

"What good would an appeal do if we don't have another suspect?" Reece asked.

"What chance do you have of discovering anything while you're on the run?"

"I'm not turning myself in," Reece said.

"Then you're a damned fool!"

"Would you turn yourself in if you were me?"

Sam grunted. "No."

Reece handed the phone to Elizabeth. "Sam, I'll call you back. Reece will be leaving soon, and I.. .we'll talk later and I'll explain things."

Hanging up the phone, Elizabeth turned to Reece. He stared at her, hoping she wouldn't ask again to go with him. As bad as he hated leaving her, he hated even more the possibility of anything happening to her because of him.

She stood there looking at him, those big blue eyes of hers pleading. She'd left her coffee brown hair loose today instead of French braiding it, and its dark, silky mass hung to her waist. She wore a pair of old, faded jeans that fit her round hips and legs like a second skin. Her nipples pressed against the ribbing of her beige sweater. Her golden skin glowed with youthful vibrancy and good health.

The temptation to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away with him became unbearable. He broke eye contact with her, wondering if she was messing with his mind, sending him subliminal messages of persuasion.

Reece took several tentative steps toward Elizabeth; she moved forward, reaching out for him. MacDatho inched his big body between them, accomplishing his obvious objective of separating them.

Elizabeth reached down, petting MacDatho's head, soothing him with her touch. She relayed a mental message to him that she needed a private goodbye with Reece. Mac nuzzled Elizabeth's leg, then removed himself from between Reece and her. Seating himself by the door, the wolf-dog waited patiently for Reece's departure.

Reece drew Elizabeth into his arms. She clung to him, running her hands up and down his back. "Don't go yet. Stay."

"I can't." He kissed her forehead. "If I stay here any longer, I not only jeopardize my own life, but yours, too. You've done more to help me than I could have ever asked of anyone."

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist. "Since you won't allow me to go with you, to lead you off the mountain and safely back to Newell, I'll draw you a map of the back roads. The police won't have any idea that you'll know about the back roads."