Beverly Barton - The Outcast

"Please, Sam, you've got to stop them from taking Reece out of jail today."

"The sheriff isn't going to listen to me, honey."

"You can't let him kill Reece!"

Sam took Elizabeth's shoulders in his strong, gentle grasp, pushing her down on the bed. "I'll go to the jail and see what I can do. If nothing else, I'll keep watch. I'll guard Reece."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I wish I could see the man's face, but I can't. He hates Reece. He's willing to sacrifice anything to keep Reece from going free."

"Everything will be all right," Sam said. "Whoever this man is, if he tips his hand today, I'll be there to catch him."

"Are you sure Harry Gunn is well guarded?" Elizabeth asked. "And what about Kenny Stanton?"

"Harry Gunn isn't in any shape to walk out of this hospital, but even if he was, the deputy would stop him. As for Kenny Stanton, I don't have any idea where he is, but I can find out."

"Don't let anything happen to Reece. I love him."

"Yeah, kiddo, I know you do."

Chapter 13

The nurse came in shortly after Sam left and gave Elizabeth an injection. She protested the shot, but the nurse insisted. She had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had suggested they give her something to calm her down a little.

She didn't want to sleep, but the medication overcame her resistance. When she awoke, she rang the nurses' station and asked for the time. It was eleven-fifteen. Surely by now Sam had persuaded the sheriff not to move Reece today. What difference could one day make to the local authorities? Maybe Sam had gone to Gary Elkins and Reece's lawyer had contacted a judge about delaying the transfer.

Elizabeth tried to focus her energy on Reece. Where was he? How was he doing? What was he thinking? With a sudden, sharp clarity, the vision of Reece being led up the sidewalk appeared in Elizabeth's mind. The crowd was pushing closer and closer. Newspaper reporters where shouting questions. Photographers were snapping shots of the prisoner. Sam Dundee and Gary Elkins followed Reece and the deputies. Elizabeth scanned the crowd. Christina Stanton stood beside her brother, Kenny, and his wife, Tracy. Willard Moran stood alone on the opposite side of the walkway. The sun reflected off the muzzle of a gun-a gun aimed directly at Reece. Breaking through the crowd, Elizabeth hurried toward Reece. She saw the startled look on his face, then heard him call her name.

The truth of what would happen hit her with full impact. She and she alone could save Reece. Only she could zero in on the killer. Only she could read a person's mind. She had to go to the jail and stop the killer before he shot Reece.

Elizabeth eased the intravenous needle from her hand. When she tried to sit up, her head spun around and around. Slow and easy, she told herself. You can't pass out. Not now. Taking her time, she slipped out of bed and stood, holding on to the bed rails.

Glancing down at her open-backed hospital gown, she wondered where they'd put her clothes. Damn, they would be covered with blood. Taking tentative steps, gauging her strength as she walked across the room, Elizabeth opened the closet. She sighed with relief when she saw her bag lying on the floor. Bending over, she gasped when the pain in her side sliced through her like a sharp rapier.

She knelt, undid her bag and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a heavy peach wool sweater. Her shoes lay beside her bag. She dressed as quickly as she could, but each movement came with pain. Pulling her purse out of the bag, she slung it over her shoulder.

Easing open the door, she peered out into the hallway. She didn't see anyone, not even one nurse. She made her way along the corridor to the elevators, punched the Down button and waited. She wondered how close the hospital was to the jail. If necessary, she'd call a cab when she got downstairs.

Once on the ground level, she stopped at the reception desk and inquired about the location of the local jail. She couldn't believe her luck when the young woman told her that the county jail was only two blocks away, directly behind the courthouse.

When she walked outside, the winter wind bit into her heavy sweater, chilling her. The wound in her side ached, and she still felt a little light-headed from the medication. Her pain didn't matter-nothing mattered except saving Reece. With each step she took, she knew she was one step closer to keeping the man she loved alive.

She could hear the crowd several minutes before she rounded the corner and saw them. Reece Landry's capture and transport to Arrendale had to be the media event of the year in Newell, Georgia. The sidewalk leading to the jail was lined with people, so many people that Elizabeth couldn't even see the sidewalk.

She made her way through the fringe crowd that waited around near the street, dozens of people who were there simply to see the spectacle. Directly in front of her, toward the back of the crowd, stood Kenny Stanton, Tracy at his side. Elizabeth glanced to their right and to their left, searching for Christina. Then she saw her, standing directly in front of Kenny. The whole Stanton family was here to see Reece off. Everyone except Alice.

Kenny was the most likely suspect. No one could hate Reece more than Kenny, unless it was Harry Gunn. Elizabeth tried to connect with Kenny, but found it impossible. The psychic energy coming from the crowd mixed and mingled, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint the exact location of a thought or feeling.

If only she could touch Kenny, she might be able to separate his energy from the energy of those around him. And if he saw her, he would know that she was on to him, and might not make a move against Reece. Regardless of what Kenny might or might not do, she had to approach him.

Breathless from her two-block walk from the hospital, Elizabeth made her way through the crowd, nudging between the curious men and women waiting for a glimpse of Reece Landry. Christina saw her, her eyes widening, her mouth forming a circle. Elizabeth shook her head. Christina nodded.

Elizabeth brushed up against Kenny. Turning quickly, he stared at her. Her knees trembled. She gripped Kenny's arm. Glaring at her, he looked down at her hand clutching his coat sleeve.

She could sense doubts in Kenny's mind-grave doubts. He was no longer certain that his half brother had killed their father.

Kenny looked Elizabeth in the eye, then placed his hand atop hers. "You shouldn't be out of the hospital, Ms. Mallory."

Tracy jerked her head around. "What are you doing here?"

Elizabeth pulled her hand off Kenny's arm, willing herself to find the strength to stand alone. "Please, I have to find him. It isn't you."

"What are you talking about?" Kenny asked.

"You aren't the murderer. You didn't come here to shoot Reece."

The crowd's rumble grew louder. Elizabeth shoved past Kenny and Tracy to see the front doors of the county jail swing open. The sheriff walked out first, followed by two deputies who led Reece down the steps. Sam Dundee and Gary Elkins were only a minute behind the others.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, trying desperately to pick up on any kind of signal the killer might be emitting. She couldn't rush in front of Reece this time and take the bullet for him. She had no idea from which direction the bullet would come; the crowd circled Reece.

Hatred. Deep, soul-wrenching hatred. She felt it so strongly that she almost doubled over in pain. And the hatred was directed at Reece-because he was B. K. Stanton's illegitimate son. Because Reece's existence had caused Alice Stanton unbearable shame and heartache. Reece could not be allowed to live, to lay claim to a fortune that didn't belong to him.

"Oh, dear God," Elizabeth said, her voice inaudible in the boisterous racket coming from the crowd. She glanced across the sidewalk. There in the front row stood Willard Moran, dressed in a conservative blue suit, his charcoal gray overcoat unbuttoned, his hand in his pocket.