“Hunting him was pointless. I could never take him unawares. But if he trusts me, it will be easier to take his head.”
Luca grunted. “You mentioned a woman before.”
“Yes. But she’s of no importance. She isn’t with Saintcrow any longer.”
“Where is she now?”
Paul shrugged. “I imagine she went home, wherever that might be.”
“I think she may be the answer.”
An icy knot formed in the pit of Rhinehart’s stomach. “How so?”
“Saintcrow was looking after her. He must care for her. Perhaps enough to bargain for her life.”
“I don’t know where she is. I don’t know anything about her,” he said, hoping the witch couldn’t detect the lie.
“Her name?”
“I think it’s Rosa something.”
“Find out.”
Rhinehart nodded, his gaze moving around the room, searching for something he could take for Kincaid’s witch. Something that wouldn’t be missed right away. A crystal ball? The silver pocket watch lying on the coffee table? The delicate figurine of a sea nymph carved from ivory? The long, gray cloak hanging by the front door?
“We’re through here,” Luca said. “Bring me Kincaid’s head or the woman. Now be gone.”
Paul swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to get Luca out of the room, but nothing came to mind. He went cold all over when Luca’s gaze trapped his. Oh, Lord, he had to get out of here, now!
“I’ll find the woman,” he called over his shoulder, his words tripping over each other as he dashed toward the door. Only to be halted by Luca’s voice calling his name.
Swallowing hard, he turned to face the witch.
“I’ve decided I want Kincaid alive,” Luca declared. “I want to take his head myself.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Once Jake planted the idea of moving to Morgan Creek in her mind, Rosa couldn’t think of anything else. She liked the town and whatever it didn’t have could be found in Custer or Cheyenne or one of the other major cities. Distance was no problem, not when Jake could quickly transport her anywhere she wanted to go.
Rosa smiled as she headed home on Friday night. With work taking up her days and Jake taking up her nights, the time seemed to fly by.
On Saturday, she asked Jake if they could go visit Blair House before she made her decision about moving to Morgan Creek.
Five minutes later, they were there. Rosa wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. The front door opened onto a small foyer, which led to a large, rectangular living room, also empty of furniture, as were all the other rooms but the kitchen, which held all the modern appliances, but nothing more. Rosa guessed that, once Sofia was turned, they had no further use for a stove, a refrigerator, microwave or dishwasher.
“Guess we’ll have to furnish the place,” Kincaid remarked as he followed her from room to room.
“We can use my furniture,” Rosa said, “unless you’d rather buy … ”
“Maybe you’d better ask me before you start moving in,” Saintcrow said, materializing in the doorway. “Last time I looked, I still owned this place.”
“I planned to ask for your approval,” Kincaid said. “Once Rosa agreed to live here.”
Saintcrow glanced at her. “You want to move to Morgan Creek?”
She shrugged. “Jake asked me about it, but he was supposed to talk to you before we did anything.”
“Uh-huh.”