by Lori Wilde
He ground his teeth, remembering the unpleasant task of plunging his arm into the toilet bowl. “No, you just threw them into the toilet.”
Nick burst out laughing. “Wow, I can’t wait to tell the boys about this.”
“Sounds like you’ve got quite a reputation with the other cops in town,” Gracie said to Sam, shaking her head.
“He’s talking about our brothers,” Sam admitted. Maybe it was time he started telling her the truth. “My real name is Sam Holden.”
“What?” Gracie whirled around to face Nick. “He’s your brother? Does this mean you’re not going to arrest him?”
Nick shrugged. “I’m still considering it.”
“Thanks a lot,” Sam muttered.
But Gracie was incensed. “You can’t let him off the hook just because you’re related. At the very least, he’s a public nuisance.”
“Well, that is true,” Nick agreed. “But if Sam’s accusation that you took his property is also true, then it looks like you both could level charges against each other.”
Sam watched the conflicting emotions on Gracie’s face. For a moment, he wondered if she’d go to jail just for the pleasure of seeing him arrested too.
“Fine,” she said at last. “I won’t press any charges.”
“I won’t either,” Sam told her. “If you give me my stuff back.”
With a huff of exasperation, Gracie walked over to her black leather purse sitting atop a pile of debris and pulled open the zipper. After pulling out Sam’s wallet, she hurled it at him.
He caught it in midair. “Thanks.”
“You can count the money,” she said heatedly. “It’s all there.”
He slid the wallet into the back pocket of his blue jeans. “I trust you.”
She rolled her eyes, then turned back to her open purse. “Wait,” she said, staring into it. “What is this?”
“What?” Sam and Nick chorused together.
Gracie reached into the bottom of her purse, then pulled out a round black disc about the size of a half dollar. “This.”
“It looks like a GPS tracking device,” Nick said, taking it from her. “Any idea how it got in there?”
“No.” Concern creased her brow. “Does this mean somebody has been following me?”
Sam cleared his throat. “Actually, I slipped that tracker into your purse last night.”
They both stared at him in disbelief. Then Nick breathed a deep sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sam, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m trying to keep Gracie safe,” he snapped. “Gilbert’s still out there and I have good reason to believe she might be in danger.”
“In danger from Gilbert?” Now it was Gracie’s turn to burst out laughing. “My Gilbert? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The way she said My Gilbert rankled Sam to his very soul. “No,” he clipped. “I’m dead serious.” Then he opened his wallet and pulled out his special license, handing it to her.
Gracie’s jaw dropped as she looked at it. “You’re a bounty hunter?”
“Yes, and I’ve been searching for your Gilbert for the past three years.”
She looked shell-shocked. "That's not possible. He’d never do anything criminal."
Sam wondered how much he should tell her. Like the fact that he’d read all the email correspondence between the two of them. And worse, written a few of those emails himself, posing as Gilbert.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about Gilbert Holloway,” Sam said at last.
Without another word, Gracie dropped the GPS tracker on the floor, then spun on her heel and disappeared down the hallway. He heard a door slam shut, the noise echoing throughout the house.
"Good job, Sam," Nick told him. “You really have a way with women.” Then he bent down and picked up the discarded GPS tracker. “I’m taking this with me so I don’t have to arrest you for stalking. If you want my advice...”
“I don’t,” Sam said sharply.
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m giving it to you anyway.” Nick lowered his voice, his face somber. “You’re too close to this case. Just like before.”
“It’s not the same. I’m going to get him this time.”
“And you’re willing to use Gracie to do it? That’s the real reason you had that tracker in her purse, isn’t it? You want her to lead you to Gilbert.”
Sam opened his mouth to deny it, then realized Nick was right. Everything he’d done up to this point, including his impersonation of Gilbert Holloway, hadn’t been in pursuit of justice.
He just wanted vengeance.
And now it was too late to back down. Gracie was in danger, judging by the condition of her house, and it was up to Sam to protect her.
He looked up and met Nick’s concerned gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Nick stared at him for a long moment, then he nodded and clapped one hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t let anything happen to you either, little brother.”
#
Twenty minutes later, Sam stood alone on Gracie’s front porch, keeping watch.
According to Nick, whoever had trashed Gracie’s beautiful turn-of-the-century house hadn't left any fingerprints behind or other incriminating evidence. That was just further proof to Sam that this had been more than a random break-in. Pine City was hardly a hot bed of crime.
He knew in his bones that it was connected to Holloway.
Gracie emerged from the front door and onto the front porch. She placed his cowboy boots and hat on the porch swing. "Here you go. You can leave now.”
Sam steeled himself for her hostility before turning around. "We need to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you," she said, bristling. "The only thing I want is for you to go away!"
Her words stung, but he didn't back down. Sam knew she'd probably hate him before this job was over, but he didn't have a choice anymore. "Sorry to disappoint you, Gracie, but I'm not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER FIVE
This cowboy bounty hunter had some nerve!
Gracie stared in disbelief at the arrogant man standing in front of her. She was still grappling with the fact that someone had invaded her home and her privacy while she’d been in Hay Springs. At least they’d limited most of the damage to her living room and kitchen. And as far as she could tell, nothing was missing.
But the last thing she needed was this sexy bounty hunter making things worse. It only reminded her of what a fool she'd been last night.
"If you’re not going to leave," she cried, turning away from him, “then I will!”
He stepped in front of her path. "Not until we settle this. You have to let me explain about Gilbert Holloway. And about my part in what happened here today." He reached out to gently pull a fluffy piece of upholstery stuffing from her silky blond hair. “Please, Gracie. Hear me out.”
The contrition in his voice made her hesitate, but she knew it was probably phony, just like everything else about him. She had no idea if Sam Holden was a decent bounty hunter, but he was one hell of an actor.
"Why should I?" she asked, purposely ignoring his reference to their time together. “You didn’t bother to explain anything about Gilbert last night.”
Sam motioned to the front door. "Why don't we go inside? We don’t know who might be watching us out here."
Gracie wanted to refuse because she didn’t scare that easily. But something told her this conversation wouldn't be a short one, so she might as well get it over with. Brushing past him, she walked into the house and started picking up the trash and debris off the living room floor.
Sam sat down on a broken armchair, an antique piece from her aunt’s shop that had been upholstered in pink damask before a knife had ripped it to shreds. His broad hands smoothed over the damaged fabric, reminding her of the way they'd slid over her bare shoulders last night when she’d kissed him. The memory set off a traitorous warmth deep inside of her.
"Well?" she prodded,
stuffing broken pieces of her home into a garbage bag. Gracie couldn’t seem to shake off the effect this man had on her. Despite his deception, there was something about Sam Holden that still attracted her, something primal that she'd never experienced before.
And never would again, she vowed to herself, at least not with him.
Sam rose to his feet and picked up one end of the toppled sofa to set it upright. "I'll start from the beginning—a little over three years ago, we discovered Gilbert Holloway was involved in an ongoing crime.”
She had no reason to believe him, not when he'd lied to her from the moment they’d met. But she'd already agreed to hear him out. "What kind of crime?"
“Identity theft." Sam lifted the heavy walnut credenza that had been tipped on its side and put it back in place. “He was stealing credit card numbers.”
Gracie found herself staring at the muscles bulging through his shirt, then averted her gaze. "So, you're calling Gilbert a thief?"
Instead of answering her question, he asked her one of his own. "Do you remember that internet consignment store that Gilbert started a few years ago? He sent a mass email about it to everyone in his address book, trying to drum up some customers. You were one of the names on the list."
Gracie nodded, remembering how Gilbert had always had one get-rich scheme after another, even back in high school. When they were seniors, he'd opened a safe-deposit box at the bank in Hay Springs to store all his riches. But all his business ventures had ultimately failed, though she'd admired his tenacity.
"Well, I know his internet consignment store was legit," Gracie informed him. "Sort of like eBay, but on a much smaller level. My aunt even bought a few pieces for her antique shop on there.”
He stopped powerlifting the furniture and turned around to face her. “Did your aunt ever have any issues with identity theft or a freeze put on any of her credit card accounts?”
“No, absolutely not,” she exclaimed. “Gilbert would never do such a thing to Aunt Jolene. He always loved coming to her house to spend time with us. It was almost like he lived there with me.”
Sam slammed a wooden chair down on the floor hard enough to rattle the windows. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I don’t know my own strength.”
She smiled, despite her irritation with him. “Well, at least you’re modest about it.”
He chuckled, then carefully checked the chair over to make sure it wasn’t damaged. “All good,” he announced. “I’ll try to be more gentle next time.”
There was something in his words that sent a shiver through her. Then she remembered how he wanted to hunt down her best friend and throw him in jail. And she doubted he’d be gentle with Gilbert.
“I still haven’t heard any proof about Gilbert’s guilt.” She tied a knot in the full garbage bag, then set it aside and reached for a new one from the box. “Or why I’m involved in all this.”
“Your involvement is my fault. Some people weren’t happy to see ‘Gilbert’ at the reunion last night.” Sam motioned to the mess all around them. “I think this was their way of sending a message to both of us.”
“Or they’re just jerks. Gilbert and I weren’t exactly popular in high school.”
“We won’t know the reason until I track down Gilbert. And not just him, either. He had a couple of silent partners who invested in his business. With all three of them involved in the identify theft, it makes it harder to follow their trail of fraudulent activity.”
A headache began to throb in Gracie’s temple. The last twenty-four hours had been the most confusing of her life. And now she had a tall, dark, and dangerous bounty hunter helping her clean up her living room while talking about silent investors and identity theft.
“Maybe Gilbert wasn’t involved at all.” She found it hard to concentrate while in the same room with Sam, especially when her feelings toward him were so conflicted. The man had kissed her and lied to her. One an act of intimacy, the other of betrayal.
Gracie took a deep breath, trying to maintain her equilibrium. "It's not his fault if the silent investors are crooks."
"We thought the same thing at first." Sam reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow. "But he was the linchpin to solving this case. So, we got a warrant for his cell phone records and discovered he’d set up a meeting with his silent partners at his family’s old homestead.”
“We? I thought most bounty hunters worked alone.”
“I do now,” Sam said. “The truth is I wasn’t a bounty hunter back then. I was a deputy with the county sheriff’s office when my partner Ray and I were assigned to the case.”
She appreciated his newfound honesty, but she felt like he was still holding something back. “I’ve been to the Holloway homestead. It’s pretty run-down, and it’s not a working farm anymore, but Gilbert always loved that old farmhouse. He’d spent a lot of time with his grandparents there before he moved to Hay Springs.”
Sam gave a brisk nod. “Yes, I’ve been there. We set up a sting operation outside the farmhouse, hoping to entrap all of them and gather the evidence we needed, but something went very wrong."
She watched him shove a large cast iron vase into a far corner of the living room. It had been a gift from a former boyfriend and had sadly proved indestructible. “So, what happened?”
“Your good buddy Gilbert must have discovered our surveillance and tipped off his partners. The night of the meeting, things spun out of control.”
She waited for him to finish, but his back was turned to her now and she could see the taut line in his broad shoulders. Apprehension fluttered inside her, and she found herself barely able to ask the question that hadn't occurred to her before.
"Was Gilbert hurt?”
Sam muttered something under his breath. "No, Gilbert escaped without a scratch. But my partner Ray wasn’t so lucky. He took a bullet in the back.” Sam’s jaw clenched. “He almost didn’t make it.”
“Oh, no!” Gracie cried. "Is he alright now?”
Sam turned around to pick up a fallen coffee table. “He’s in a wheelchair.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I can't believe Gilbert would ever be involved in something like that. It just isn't like him."
"No offense," Sam said wryly, "but you haven't seen the guy since high school. You didn't even recognize the fact that I wasn't him last night."
“Yes, I was stupid,” she admitted. “But he’d emailed me two to three years ago about needing extensive plastic surgery due to an accident, so it kind of made sense that he wouldn’t look the same.”
“Since I’m done lying to you,” Sam said slowly. “I think you should know that I was the author of that particular email.” He grimaced. “I made up the story about the accident and the reconstructive surgery.”
Just when Gracie thought it couldn’t get any worse. “Why?”
He hesitated long enough that she knew she wasn’t going to like his answer.
At last, he said, “I was monitoring Gilbert’s email account for several months after the incident at the farmhouse. I was hoping he’d use it so I could track him down. But he was silent, so I tried to provoke a reaction from him.”
She closed her eyes. “Does that mean you read the emails I sent to Gilbert? And you made me think he was replying to them instead of you?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “I was desperate to find him, but that’s no excuse for involving you.”
Heat rushed up her cheeks when she remembered how honest she’d been in those emails to Gilbert. How she’d confided her hopes and fears to him, complained about her stepfather, and even shared stories about her dating life.
Now Sam knew all of it.
Gracie found herself resisting the urge to shove Sam into a corner. “Then last night wasn’t the first time you pretended to be Gilbert?”
“Nope.”
Gracie closed her eyes, reeling from this latest revelation. It certainly explained the change she'd sensed in those emails, the intimacy. She'd never even consi
dered a romantic relationship with Gilbert until she’d received those last few emails from him. Because the Gilbert in those emails wasn't the same Gilbert from her past.
"Look, I'm sorry," he said, obviously realizing his mistake.
"Not as sorry as I am."
He flinched, but she didn't care. Gracie had always prided herself on her business ethics, but Sam obviously took a different approach. That's why he'd sought her out last night—to use her knowledge of Gilbert to help him bring in his bounty. And that was the only reason he was here now.
She watched him run his hand through his thick brown hair.
"Look, I was wrong to hide my identity from you last night,” he told her. “I'll admit that. But look around you. We're obviously dealing with people who are desperate to conceal their crime."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"I don’t know. Why did Gilbert contact you for the first time in three years by sending you that package? Was there anything else in it besides that movie?”
Without a word, she walked to the front door and held it open for him. “I think you should go now.”
“And leave you here by yourself? Not a chance.”
“I believe I made it clear to you earlier that I can take care of myself. I got some lessons from a client who owns a martial arts studio. He was a great teacher.”
Sam reached up to rub his neck. “I can vouch for that.”
“Then you should probably go home now and put some ice on that neck.” She glanced around the living room, realizing it already looked much better than it had earlier. “I suppose I should thank you for helping me get this mess cleaned up.”
“It’s the least I could do.” He moved so close to her she could see the gold flecks in his dark-brown eyes. “I’d like to clean up my other messes too. If you’ll let me.”
Gracie couldn’t believe his audacity. Or her own longing to give in to temptation again. But she was just asking for trouble. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”
She picked up the full garbage bags nearest to her and handed them to Sam. “And thanks for tossing these into the dumpster on your way out.”