“They’ll catch him,” Boone assured her.
Abbie hung on to that, but her hopes vanished when she saw Mason making his way back through the park and toward them. Judging from his expression, the shooter was still at large.
Abbie wanted to run to Mason, to make sure he was okay, but Boone anchored her in place. She didn’t fight him, not until Mason stepped inside, and then she threw off Boone’s grip and ran to Mason. He caught her in his arms and pulled her to him.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded and checked him for any signs of injury. None, thank God. Just that look of pure frustration on his face.
“He got away?” Abbie wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
The muscles in Mason’s jaw flickered. “The others will keep looking.”
She wanted to be strong, needed to be because Mason already had enough on his shoulders, but Abbie couldn’t help it. Tears burned her eyes.
Mason mumbled something. Not his usual profanity. She couldn’t make out what he said, but it soothed her more than anything else could have. So did the way he kept her cradled in his arms.
But it didn’t last.
Abbie had only a few seconds of that comfort before she heard the footsteps racing toward them. Mason obviously heard them, too, because he maneuvered her behind him again. However, this wasn’t a threat in the same way gunman was. It was Dr. Mickelson, and he was hurrying up the hall toward them.
“Something wrong?” Mason immediately asked the doctor.
Dr. Mickelson nodded. “I need you to come with me. Now.”
Chapter Fifteen
Dead.
Mason figured that wasn’t the worst news he could hear today, but it wasn’t good. Ace Chapman was dead. Now, not only wouldn’t he get the answers about who’d hired the man, but he also had another problem. A big one.
Because Ace hadn’t died of natural causes.
“Looks as if someone smothered him,” Dr. Mickelson explained. His voice was shaky. Heck, he was shaky. The doc had no doubt seen death before, but murder was a whole different story.
Mason had seen death, and yeah, Ace had been smothered.
“What’s going on?” Mason heard Abbie ask from the doorway of the recovery room. He’d told her to stay put, but obviously she’d followed him.
Mason couldn’t blame her. This was their lives here, and they had a dead hit man and another live one loose somewhere in town. He scrubbed his hand over his face and looked back at her. Mason didn’t say a word, but she must have picked up on his body language.
“Who killed him?” she wanted to know.
And Mason wanted to know the same darn thing.
He glanced around the room. No surveillance cameras here, but there was one in the hall. Not outside the door exactly, but it might have enough range to show them who’d waltzed into Recovery and put a quick end to Ace’s miserable life.
“I need the surveillance disks for the last hour,” Mason told the doctor.
The doctor nodded. “You can use my office, and I’ll have the disk delivered there.” His attention drifted to Abbie. “Might do her some good to get off her feet for a while—and get away from this.”
Mason couldn’t agree more, and because he couldn’t take her outside with the gunman still on the loose, the hospital was the safest place to be. Hopefully.
“What should I do with the body?” Dr. Mickelson asked.
“Don’t touch it. I’ll call the Rangers and have them send down a CSI team. Lock this door and don’t let anyone enter.”
Not that he thought there was any evidence to tamper with, but they might get lucky. Still, this was likely a case of premeditated murder, so the killer had probably covered his or her tracks.
“I’ll go ahead and take Abbie to your office,” Mason let the doctor know.
Where he could hopefully prevent anyone else from taking shots at her. While there, he intended to arrange for someone to question their suspects—all of them—and find out if they had alibis for these latest incidents—the shooting and Ace’s murder.
Mason went to Abbie, slipping his arm around her waist to get her moving. She seemed frozen, unable to take her attention off the dead assassin.
Boone was there, too, just a few feet away from her. Standing guard. Mason considered thanking him for protecting Abbie, but he wasn’t feeling that generous. Besides, it was possible that Abbie was in danger because of Boone. And if so, there went any chance of ever feeling anything but the hatred he already felt.
“Should I go to the doctor’s office with you?” Boone asked.
“No need. I’ll take care of her.” It sounded a little like marking his territory, but Mason was too riled and weary to tone it down.
But Abbie didn’t budge. “You won’t go outside?” she clarified to Boone.
Boone managed to muster up a reassuring smile. “I’ll stay put. Go with Mason.”
She hesitated a moment, as if deciding if he was being truthful, but the adrenaline crash must have been the tipping point because she nodded and got her feet moving.
While he led her down the hall, Mason made the first call to the Rangers to request a CSI team. Grayson was still likely tied up with his sick baby, Dade and Gage were in pursuit of the gunman, so Mason went to the next on his call list. His sister-in-law Bree, a deputy sheriff and former FBI agent.
“Ferguson, Stone and Nicole will just lie and say they know nothing about this,” Abbie concluded after Mason had requested that Bree reinterview all of them.
“Probably, but Bree’s good at what she does. She might be able to get one of them to snap.” But Mason wasn’t holding his breath.
Abbie stopped cold, and her eyes widened. “Bree won’t be at the sheriff’s office alone with that trio of vipers?”
“Not a chance. Kade will be with her. Luis, the other deputy, too.”
Relief went through her eyes. Not much, though. Probably because they didn’t seem to be any closer to ending the danger.
Mason ushered her into Dr. Mickelson’s office, shut the door and tried to maneuver her to the leather sofa. But again Abbie stopped, looked up at him and then slipped into his arms. Yet another dangerous place for her to be, but judging from the small sigh she made, she didn’t think so.
She was wrong.
Yeah, this felt good. Right, even. But Mason knew this holding could end with a boatload of hurt for both of them.
“I really have to figure out better coping skills for nearly getting killed,” she whispered with her breath hitting against his neck.
Because he was thinking about the hurt, and the heat, it took him a moment to realize she was talking about the shooting and not this latest hugging session.
“No one has coping skills like that,” he assured her.
“You do,” she challenged.
“Not a chance.” Especially not where Abbie was concerned. Yeah, he’d been in danger before, but this was as bad as it got. Because it involved her.
And Mason wasn’t about to give that further thought.
He pushed the wisps of hair from her face and pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. Well, it was meant to be chaste, but it turned out to be a green light for Abbie to move even closer. Until she was smashed right against him.
“I’m not a real virgin, you know,” she mumbled.
Mason felt the sucker punch of surprise, and he leaned back a little so he could see her face. “Excuse me?”
“I mean I’m not naive or innocent. Over the years I’ve made out with guys. I just didn’t get to the big finale with any of them.”
“Really.” And Mason was more than sure he didn’t want to hear the details. Ditto on that part about not giving this any further thought either.
“Really,” she insisted. “I know the timing sucks for this conversation, but I can’t seem to find a peaceful moment to have a heart-to-heart with you.”
She had a point there. They hadn’t had much time for sleep, much less conversa
tion. Yet they’d managed to fire up this attraction to a very uncomfortable level.
“Marshal McKinney will have a new name and place for you soon,” Mason reminded her. While he was at it, he reminded himself of that, too.
Abbie shook her head. “I’m not going.”
That was a couple of rungs up from a sucker punch. “What?”
“I’m not going,” she calmly repeated. She stepped back, hiked up her chin. “Because wherever I go, the danger will just follow. I’m tired of running, tired of being scared. I’m making my stand right here in Silver Creek.”
But then her eyes widened. “Oh, God. I can’t do that, can I? Because it’ll put you and your family in more danger.”
“We’re already in more danger,” Mason reminded her. “And if you leave, that won’t stop.”
There. That was his argument for her staying. And it was a good argument, too.
Mason didn’t have time to dwell on things because his phone rang. He glanced down at the screen, hoping it was Dade or Gage calling to say they’d captured the shooter. No such luck.
“Ferguson,” Mason answered. Because Abbie was already trying to listen, he put the call on Speaker and hoped this moron didn’t say anything to add to her already-too-high stress and adrenaline levels.
“I just heard about the shooting,” Ferguson greeted. “Are you all right?”
“Peachy. Did you hire this guy to kill us?” Mason demanded right off the bat.
“Of course not. I keep telling you that I wish none of you any harm. When are you going to believe me?”
“When hell freezes over.” And even that wouldn’t do it. Ferguson was at the top of his suspect list. “Why are you calling me?”
“Because your sister-in-law just phoned and said I was to report to the sheriff’s office for an interrogation and I’m to produce the letter that Senator Herrington left me.”
“Why are you calling me?” Mason repeated. “If Deputy Bree Ryland told you to do those things, then you should be busting your butt to get it done. Unless you got something to hide.”
“Nothing,” Ferguson calmly said. “But there’s a problem with the letter.” He made a sound of disappointment mixed with frustration. Both exaggerated. Both fake. “I seem to have misplaced it.”
Abbie huffed. Mason didn’t even bother. He’d expected it. “We’ll get a search warrant to look for it.” Although if there was anything incriminating in that letter, then it was ash by now or else tucked away from the reach of a search warrant.
“No need. You can search my house anytime you like. Bring Abbie. You can both look.”
Oh, yeah. As if that would happen. “What did the letter say?”
“Ford just wanted to thank me for my unwavering friendship.” It sounded rehearsed. Probably was.
“You’re sure he didn’t ask you to put hits on all of us?” Abbie asked.
“Positive.” With just that one word, the smugness was crystal clear in Ferguson’s voice. Maybe he was just happy that he was able to torture Abbie a little bit more. “And even if I had, I would have declined. I don’t blame you for your mother’s sins.”
No smugness in that last comment. It sounded, well, genuine. Of course, this was Ferguson, and he was a lying expert.
“Go to the sheriff’s office,” Mason told the man. “Don’t keep my sister-in-law waiting.”
The moment that Mason hit the end-call button, the door flew open. Abbie and he automatically flew apart as if they’d been caught doing something wrong, but it wasn’t one of his siblings or Boone to cast a disapproving eye. It was Dr. Mickelson, and he held up a shiny silver disk.
“Here it is,” the doctor announced.
From the surveillance camera no doubt. Mason certainly hadn’t forgotten about it, but he’d had another lapse of focus because he couldn’t get his mind and body off Abbie.
The doctor went to his desk and put the disk into his laptop. It took only a few seconds for the images to appear on the screen, and Mason wasn’t disappointed. There was a clear angle of the recovery room where Ace had been murdered.
“I talked with the security guard,” the doctor said as they watched. “And he moved to the front of the building when the shots started. He doesn’t remember seeing anyone specific in the area of the recovery room.”
Yeah, and that made Mason suspicious. Had those shots been fired to distract the guard and them so someone could kill Ace? If so, it’d worked.
Well, maybe.
There was no audio on the surveillance footage, but Mason saw the exact moment the shots started. The people in the hall began to run and scramble for cover. The seconds ticked off slowly until someone finally came into view.
The person paused at the top of the hall, glanced around and then walked forward.
“Who is it?” Abbie asked. She moved closer to the screen until Mason and she were shoulder to shoulder.
He shook his head, not sure who they were seeing on the screen because the person was wearing a baseball cap slung low enough to cover the forehead and the eyes. Whoever it was, he or she had attempted a disguise, which meant this probably wasn’t a social call.
Mason watched, waited and finally the person stepped into view.
“Hell,” he mumbled. And Mason reached for his phone.
* * *
ABBIE STARED AT THE WOMAN on the other side of the two-way mirror. Nicole didn’t exactly look pleased about being escorted into the sheriff’s office to answer some questions. But then, Mason didn’t look pleased either, as he showed her the surveillance footage from the hospital.
“Oh, God,” Nicole said when she saw herself on the screen. “It’s not what you think.”
Mason gave her one of his best glares. “Then you tell me what’s going on—other than the obvious. Why did you kill Ace Chapman?”
“I didn’t kill him.” And as if on cue, Nicole began to cry. “I was set up to make it look that way.”
That didn’t help Mason’s glare. “Of course you were.”
Abbie heard a sound of mock agreement that mimicked Mason’s, and she looked in the doorway to see Gage standing there. Uh-oh. She wasn’t up to another round with a Ryland out to bash Boone.
But Gage didn’t bash. He strolled closer and watched his brother and Nicole. “She’s a natural-born liar.”
Abbie couldn’t argue with that. Nor could she be sympathetic to Nicole’s nonstop tears. The woman was crying so hard that she couldn’t speak. Abbie was too tired to have anything delay this interrogation and possible arrest.
Gage seemed disgusted with the display. “Rusty Burke just called and asked to speak to Mason. I guess Mason has his phone off for this little chat with Nicole.”
That got Abbie’s attention off Nicole. Rusty was the ranch hand who assisted her with the cutting horses. “Is something wrong?”
“Not really. Rusty’s just having trouble with the new paint mare and wants Mason’s okay to get rid of her.”
“No,” Abbie blurted out. She huffed. “The mare just needs some extra time and training, that’s all. And Rusty’s too timid with her.”
Abbie suddenly felt stupid and overly emotional, like Nicole. Considering everything else going on, it was small potatoes, but she wished she had some time to spend with the mare. With any of the horses. Actually, she just wanted to do something normal again.
Gage stared at her. “For the record, I don’t blame you for anything Boone’s done.” He paused. “But it’s hard.”
“I know,” she admitted and moved on to another thought that she was overly emotional about. “I wonder if Mason will ever move past it.”
He made a sound that could have meant anything. “Mason’s a complex man.” Gage went closer, propped a shoulder on the glass. “Does he know how you feel about him?”
Abbie opened her mouth. Closed it. Decided she’d already overshared too much in the emotion department. “That’s a trick question.”
“Could be,” Gage admitted. “And unlike Nico
le, you’re not a natural-born liar, so you can’t look me in the eye and say you don’t have feelings for him.”
He was right, and it was clear he wasn’t going to leave until she gave him an answer. Abbie shrugged. The answer was obvious anyway. “I do have feelings for him.”
It was an ill-timed confession. She realized that when she looked past Gage and saw Mason. Standing there in the doorway. Listening to them. She snapped toward the mirror again and saw Nicole alone in the interview room.
“I needed to get some tissues for Nicole,” Mason said. But he didn’t budge. He looked first at Abbie. Then at his brother.
“Opening cans of worms?” Mason asked Gage.
Gage grinned. “Nope. Doing you a favor. And I’ll do you a second one. Let me take a stab at Weeping Willow in there. You stay here and keep Abbie company. It appears y’all have some things to discuss.”
He didn’t wait for Mason to agree. Gage waltzed out, but not before Mason called him a smart-ass.
Abbie frowned. “I do have feelings for you,” she repeated. “And I don’t think you should get rid of the paint mare despite what Rusty thinks.”
Mason blinked. With reason. She’d just tossed both apples and oranges at him when his mind was clearly on Nicole’s interrogation.
Or maybe not.
“I never said I didn’t have feelings for you,” he grumbled. He crammed his hands in his jeans pockets and watched as Gage strolled into the interview room. “It’s just that I’m not the marrying kind.”
Abbie looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns. “You marry all the women you sleep with?”
“No.” He slid her one of his glares. “But you’re different, and you know it.”
No, she didn’t. “Different how?” she pressed.
But Mason didn’t have time to answer. That’s because Gage dropped down across from Nicole and started the interrogation. “Who are you claiming set you up?” Gage demanded.
“I don’t know.” Nicole shook her head, cried some more. “I got a phone message, and the person said he was Ace Chapman and that he had something important to tell me. He asked me to come to the hospital.”
Suddenly the tears stopped, and Nicole’s head whipped up. She riffled through her purse, grabbed her phone and handed it to Gage. “Here, listen for yourself. The message is still there.”
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