The Catalyst
by Sandy Marshall
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Eirelander Publishing
Release Date: March 6, 2009
Buy: Amazon
Dark revelations and secret love lead to personal resurrection.
Carolyn Madison didn't kill her husband but didn't mourn him either. The rapist deserved to die, or at least she thought so. Beneath a myriad of family secrets, Carolyn drags the skeletons out of the closet and in the arms of her true love, learns to love again.
Walt Tollhouse has pined for Carolyn since she was a shy seventeen-year-old. Little did he know Robert Dubois would steal her away, and then destroy the beautiful spirit he still loved? Beneath the guise of clean-up man, the martial arts instructor never pushes his battered love but gives her silent support she deserves.
Robert
rolled his window down, fanning himself as he waited for the cars in
front of him to exit. He’d run the company since the death of
Carolyn’s father and hadn’t expected to see her at the party
tonight.
She’d
never taken an interest in the casinos while she raised the kids, but
then she hadn’t needed to. He’d paid child support and
maintenance to impress old man Madison, so she hadn’t needed to
work, but she’d gotten an accounting degree. Hell, she could’ve
been working at the firm. He wouldn’t have known it; he didn’t
spend any more time there than he had to. She wouldn’t risk coming
face to face with him unless she’d found out about his dealings.
Damn,
she had to be onto him; otherwise she’d never chase him. He was in
deep trouble, and he didn’t want to get into it with the ex-soldier
before he left town.
Even
though the old man had always treated him like a son, for the last
few months he’d ignored Robert. He’d been left out of the loop
and treated like a piece of shit by Madison before he died.
Suddenly,
a figure rose outside his door. Before he could act, someone grabbed
him by the collar and jerked his head through the window.
“You
bastard. Come out here, you asshole,” Walt roared. “Time to learn
some manners, Dubois.”
Stunned,
Robert instinctively hit Walt in the jaw and yanked himself back
inside the car. Damn. He had to get away from this madman. Robert
tried to roll up the window while trying to push Walt out. “What
are you talking about?” Damn these cars. Why don’t they move?
“You
know what I mean.” Walt grabbed the handle, trying to open the
door. “Get out here. Time you fight someone your own size.”
The
car in front of them took off. Without even looking for traffic,
Robert tromped on the accelerator, exiting the lot. The son of a
bitch still hung on, running beside him.
“It’s
not over, Dubois,” Walt hollered and let go.
Robert
watched him in his rearview mirror. Walt hated him, and he suspected
the man loved Carolyn from the way he hovered around her.
He’d
only wanted to party one more night in his Kansas City casino. Barely
seeing the road, he glanced at the railroad tracks and the trees
lining the Missouri river as he sped along Highway 210 and groaned.
He needed to get the hell out of town if he wanted to stay alive, but
he couldn’t just quit gambling cold turkey.
Twenty
minutes later, Robert glanced over his shoulder before he entered his
favorite casino. Good! No one he knew was around him. He took a
handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped it across his forehead.
The stories about Walt’s skills and the way he took care of
Madison’s enemies made him nervous. Although Tollhouse stayed in
the background, Robert knew he was capable of anything.
Robert
headed to the high stakes table to get his usual line of credit. He
strode across the room and smacked into a man in a loud red shirt
surrounded by a large, riotous group of people, but with only a
scowl, he went on.
He
threw ten one hundred dollar bills on the blackjack table. “Give me
five blacks and the rest in green.” Tonight he had the cash to back
it up; he had paid the loan shark. Absolutely, never again would he
get indebted to him.
A
waitress walked nearby, and he waved at her. “Scotch straight.”
He placed a couple of black chips worth a hundred dollars a piece on
his spot and watched the dealer throw the cards out one by one to the
players.
Blackjack.
This
time, he would leave the five blacks out. Someone sat beside him, and
he glanced at the other player. Robert knew the man in the loud red
shirt and greasy hair was a loser. He could spot them a mile
away--he’d been snakebit. Quickly, Robert grabbed his chips before
the cards were dealt.
“Here’s
your drink, sir.”
“Thanks.”
Robert handed her a green chip. He gulped the Scotch in one swallow
and handed the glass back to the busty redhead. “I’ll take
another, but I’ll be over there.” He pointed to the roulette
table.
Moments
later, Robert stood at the roulette wheel and called out, “Red,”
as he placed a hundred on the table. The ball pinged around the wheel
before it landed, then cheers went up. He’d won.
“Red
again.” He let it all ride.
Cheers
again.
People
gathered.
“Here’s
your drink, sir.” The waitress handed him a glass. Robert clasped
the drink and dropped a green chip on her tray.
“One
more time.” A hand clapped him on the back. Robert winced at the
touch and the swarthy man in the red shirt leaned forward to place
his tokens on red. “I’m going to clean up with you.”
The
jinx had followed him, but he’d leave before the man’s luck
rubbed off on him. Robert shrugged him off and picked up his tokens.
He handed them to the croupier. “Give me black.”
“Damn
you,” the red-shirted man yelled when he lost his money.
Robert
had known the guy was a jinx, but with a glance at the fellow, a pang
of fear coursed his body. Was the man following him? Could he work
for the loan sharks? Hell, he could even be following him for his
partner, Bill Rutherford. A couple of days ago, Bill had questioned
him about the stocks. When Robert told him everything was going as
scheduled, his partner had sounded as if he didn’t believe Robert.
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