Conard County Justice (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 42)

Home > Thriller > Conard County Justice (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 42) > Page 21
Conard County Justice (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 42) Page 21

by Rachel Lee


  Now they kicked back with beers and let all the grief and fatigue wash over them.

  “Larry loved what he did,” Ben said. “I would never have asked him to stop. He was made for that job.”

  “I agree,” said Duke. “Definitely. A remarkable guy, and I don’t just say that because he’s my brother.”

  “He said that about you, too.” Ben smiled faintly.

  After a few minutes of reflection, Duke looked at Cat. “I know this is quick, but it’s driving me crazy. Would you consider marrying me eventually? I love you.”

  Cat caught her breath. Seriously?

  Then Duke turned to Ben. “If she says yes, will you be my best man?”

  For the first time since the murder, Ben smiled broadly. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Then the two men looked at Cat, who was bouncing between amazement and joy. “Are both of you asking?”

  “Seems like,” said Duke. “One big family now. If you want.”

  Oh, truth rushed through her. No deliberation or time needed. “I want,” she breathed. “Yes, definitely yes.”

  A bright ray of sunshine filled her, warming her.

  So much joy out of so much sorrow. Life could still be beautiful.

  And justice could still be served.

  * * *

  Don’t miss other romances in Rachel Lee’s thrilling Conard County: The Next Generation series:

  Stalked in Conard County

  Murdered in Conard County

  Conard County Watch

  Conard County Revenge

  Available now from Harlequin!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from What She Knew by Barb Han.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Seek thrills. Solve crimes. Justice served.

  Dive into action-packed stories that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Solve the crime and deliver justice at all costs.

  6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  What She Knew

  by Barb Han

  Chapter One

  Amber Kent didn’t normally pick up calls from numbers she didn’t recognize on her personal cell. She tapped her toe on the floorboard while waiting for Harvey Baily to finish loading hay bales onto her truck. He’d insisted she stay in the cab in order to keep warm.

  The temperature hovered just above forty degrees. The sun was covered by thick gray clouds. She stared at her buzzing phone. The call could be coming from a distant relative. She’d had a few of those since losing her parents a few years ago. It was past the holidays.

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, she noticed that Harvey wasn’t even close to being done loading. She had a couple of minutes to spare.

  “Hello,” she said. The silence on the other end had her thinking answering was a bad idea.

  “Amber, this is Rylan Anderson...” The familiar voice came through the line clearly. He didn’t need to say his name for her to know that voice. It was deeper now, but that unmistakable timbre goose bumped her arms. Talk about a blast from the past. How long had it been? Eight years? Nine?

  “I heard you moved back to town, but I thought people were pulling my leg.” After nearly a decade of being gone, she was surprised he’d come back to Jacobstown, Texas.

  “Yeah, sorry I didn’t get in touch.” That was an odd thing to say. Had he planned on seeing her at some point?

  “It’s fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly?

  “I know it’s been a long time but I need a favor.” At least he didn’t pretend this was a social call. So why did disappointment wrap around her? A little piece of her wished he was calling to see how she was, or if she wanted to meet up for coffee. Hearing from him after all these years was a shock to the system.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked, suppressing a small sigh.

  She heard something or someone in the background. Then again, it could be a TV. She couldn’t make out the noise clearly.

  “I didn’t have anyone else to call who could handle...” His voice trailed off, and that really got her curiosity going. He didn’t sound like himself. Although, what did she expect? He’d gone dim on social media after leaving Jacobstown to join the military. Platforms had changed, phone numbers had changed and she didn’t keep up with him.

  “What is it?” she asked. Curiosity was getting the best of her. What on earth could make him call after all this time?

  “It’s hard to explain. Can you stop by my house?”

  “Um, sure.” She didn’t have a clue about why. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “Yeah. Kind of,” he hedged. “I don’t know—”

  “The bank’s closed if you need mon—”

  “It’s not like that.” There was a hint of defensiveness in his voice that she hadn’t meant to put there. “You know what? Never mind. This is a mistake.”

  “Hold on, Rylan—”

  It was too late. He’d ended the call.

  Amber wasn’t letting him get away with that. She called him back.

  He picked up on the first ring. The noise in the background confused her. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

  He issued a sharp sigh.

  “Rylan, I can drop by. Don’t be a mule,” she said.

  There was a long pause. “I’d really appreciate it.”

  He sounded like someone with a migraine coming on, and for a split second she wondered if he needed medical attention.

  “You’re okay, right? I mean, you’re not injured,” she said, and she didn’t bother hiding the worry in her tone.

  “It’s not like that.” At least she’d ruled out a trip to the ER.

  “Text your address and I’ll stop by on my way home.” She should probably turn and drive in the opposite direction from her brother’s former best friend. The trouble was that she’d counted Rylan as a friend once, too. Plus, it was just beyond the holiday season. Rumors that he’d moved back to town were true. And he shouldn’t be on his own. How could she refuse his plea for help? The text came through immediately after the call ended. She knew exactly where that was. Mrs. Parker used to live there, and Amber had stopped by many times to drop off a meal before the widow moved away.

  Harvey tapped on Amber’s truck bed as he closed the tailgate. He waved. His job was done. She rolled down the driver’s side window and shouted a thank-you through the howling wind. A chill settled over her, and she realized the temperature had dropped another ten degrees. It was going to be a cold night if the rest of that front moved through town.

  Jacobstown was an hour’s drive south of Fort Worth. It was considered a bedroom community that had been a safe haven until recent weeks when some twisted individual started mutilating the left hooves of animals. The perp had started with small animals and then worked his way up to heifers. Several had been found on the Kent Ranch, a place she owned with five brothers.

  Amber navigated onto Main Street and across town to Mrs. Parker’s old house. It was Saturday, and there weren’t many vehicles on the roads. She imagined grocery stores were probably busy with everyone anticipating the weather. She tapped her right thumb against the steering wheel. There was something about the tone of Rylan’s voice that wasn’t sitting right. Her first thought was that she should’ve asked him to come to the ranch. But she was close enough to stop by his house on her way home from the feed store, and she figured part of the reason he hadn’t contacted her yet was because of the blowout he’d had with her brother Will. Eight years was a long time to hold on to a grudge. It wasn’t like Will to do that, either.

  Whatever had transpired between the two of them was kept quiet, no small feat for a town that seemed to know everyone’s business in real time. People weren’t nosy. They cared. Ranch families had a long history of looking out for one another.

  Fifteen minutes later Amber pulled up in fron
t of Rylan’s bungalow-style house and parked. At least the place wasn’t on fire. She’d worried his emergency was something like that based on the urgency in his voice, but she also realized he’d be calling the fire department and not her.

  Her curiosity had her mind running through half a dozen wild scenarios before she’d arrived. Last she’d heard, Rylan was a Navy SEAL. There probably wasn’t much that he couldn’t handle on his own. Needing her made even less sense as she rolled over possible problems in her head.

  By most accounts Rylan had been in Jacobstown for two weeks already, and she had yet to see him. He’d basically pushed her out of his life before he’d signed up with the military eight years ago. He’d walked away without looking back not long after the one kiss they’d shared, but this wasn’t the time to rehash that memory. Besides, he probably didn’t even remember it.

  Amber hopped out of the truck, took a deep breath and moved to the front door. There were ten-gallon buckets of paint littering the covered porch. Paint chipped off the outside of the building. She stepped over a ladder in order to get to the front door.

  Rylan didn’t seem to expect any visitors. She knocked, and it felt like it took forever for him to answer. It didn’t. She had a case of nerves. She’d tried to shake them off before seeing him again and clearly hadn’t.

  “Thanks for coming, Amber.” Rylan opened the door for a peek, blocking her view into his home. He looked a little too good in what she could see of his jeans and long-sleeve T-shirt. Her heart performed an inappropriate little flip-flop routine at seeing him again. She didn’t want to have those feelings for him, like the childhood crush she’d had. She was an adult now, and there was no room in her life for childish pursuits.

  Rylan’s dark curls had been clipped off, but that did nothing to take away from his good looks. The military had filled him out even more, and she had to force her eyes away from his chest, which had always been at eye level.

  “You’re welcome.” She tried to look past him and see what he was blocking. “What’s going on, Rylan? I don’t hear from you in eight or nine—”

  “Eight,” he interjected.

  “Fine, eight years it’s been, and now I get an emergency call from you out of the blue? I don’t see your house burning down, and you’re not letting me inside. I’m a little confused as to why I’m here.”

  “Damn.” He muttered something else under his breath that she couldn’t make out. “This is harder than I thought.”

  “What is it, Rylan? Why did you call me?” Impatience had her tapping the toe of her boot on his concrete porch.

  “Did you buy this place?” She hoped Mrs. Parker was okay. She’d moved six months ago to be closer to her daughter in San Antonio.

  “I’m in the process,” he said, and an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint darkened his eyes.

  “It’s good to see you, Amber.” He closed the door a little tighter against his side. He was massive at six foot three inches. He’d always been tall, but now he was filled out, too. It made a huge difference in his size and aided his ability to completely block her view.

  Amber planted a balled fist on her hip, ignoring the reaction her body was having at seeing him again. “What’s so important that my hay had to wait?”

  A baby let out a wail.

  “Come on in and see for yourself.” He looked at her with the most helpless expression.

  “What have you done, Rylan Anderson?” Amber stomped through the doorway and froze. Her jaw must’ve dropped. Rylan stared at her, but all she could focus on was the baby on the floor, lying on a blanket with couch pillows tucked all around her. “Is this yours?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “What do you mean by that?” Okay, she understood what he was saying, but it was more like a seriously? How could this happen? And how could you not know if this is your child?

  “A random person showed up at my door with her.” Rylan looked helplessly at the little girl who’d settled back down already. He really did sound lost and confused. His dark eyes had that lost quality, too.

  “Where’s her mother?” Amber scanned the place. Her blood boiled that a person could drop a baby off and run like that.

  “That’s a great question.” His voice held a mixture of frustration and desperation.

  Thankfully, the baby had gone back to sleep.

  “How did this happen?” She walked over and stood near the little pink bundle. She was young, a few months old if Amber had to guess. She’d been around her brothers’ children enough to know a little bit about babies.

  Looking down at that sleeping angel caused Amber’s heart to squeeze. The air thinned, and it became difficult to breathe. She would never be able to look at such a young baby without remembering her loss. She reminded herself that it was a long time ago. And she still couldn’t go there, couldn’t allow her thoughts to run rogue without the world trying to crash down around her. She refocused on her former friend.

  Rylan stood there, looking at a loss for words and staring at her like she had three foreheads.

  “Okay, fine. I’m not that naive. I know how this happened. I’m just wondering...never mind...you got coffee?” She figured she was going to need some serious caffeine if she was going to think straight. She shook off the cold and shrugged out of her coat, which he immediately took from her and tossed onto the chair near the door.

  “I put on a pot.” He turned toward the kitchen. “Here, let me—”

  “No, thanks. You stay in here in case she wakes up again.” Amber didn’t want to explain the sudden burst of emotion that made tears well in her eyes. She knew better than to let Rylan see them, or he’d have too many questions. She stalked past him and into the adjacent kitchen.

  She opened a couple of cabinets before she found the right cupboard. The coffeemaker was near the sink and easy to spot. There were unpacked boxes stacked against the wall in one corner. “You want a cup?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  Amber wiped her eyes and straightened her back before filling the mugs she’d taken from the cupboard and returning to the living room with two steaming coffees.

  “Here you go.” She handed one to him and then took a sip of hers, enjoying the burn. She needed to clear a few cobwebs in order to think clearly. She plopped down on the floor, near the baby.

  “Come join me, Rylan,” she said.

  He did.

  “You’ve been in some messes before, Rylan Anderson, but I can’t even begin with this one.” She took another sip and lowered her voice. “You don’t know if you’re the father?”

  “This is the first time I’ve set eyes on her,” he admitted. “I had no clue that she existed until someone knocked on my door looking panicked, asked me to hold her and then ran. She was crying, and I had no idea what to do. The person said her mother asked him to drop the child off. He also said I’m her father, apologized and was gone before I could stop him.”

  Amber looked down at the sleeping baby. She had Rylan’s dark curls, which didn’t exactly mean she belonged to him. She just looked like she could be his daughter. The thought of Rylan being a daddy hit her hard in the chest.

  “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. You can get a DNA test down at the store. I think they’re pretty easy to take. If she’s yours, we’ll take the next legal steps for you to claim her.” Her statement didn’t get the reaction she was hoping for.

  “How accurate can a drugstore test be?” Rylan looked even more lost. “I need to track down her mother, and I can’t do that if I don’t know who she is.”

  “How many women have you been with?” Before he could answer, she held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. It’s not my business.”

  “This situation is complicated, Amber. But I’m not some jerk who runs around getting women pregnant and then ditching them. I just got out of the military and, yes, there’ve been
a few women, but none who were important, and I’m always careful.” The indignation in his voice shouldn’t make her want to smile. Rylan would be considered hot by pretty much any woman with eyes. He was also smart and funny.

  “I’m not trying to judge you unfairly, Rylan. I’m really not.” It was a mistake to look into his dark brown eyes while sitting this close.

  He looked away and took a sip of coffee. “It doesn’t matter. She’s here and I have no idea who she is, where she came from, or if she’s mine. But I can’t help wondering who would track me down and play a twisted prank like this, either.”

  “Did you say the stranger dropped off a diaper bag?” She was already looking around for one.

  The living room had a sofa, chair and boxes. On the opposite wall was a perfectly set up and organized flat screen. There were two-by-two-inch swatches of paint colors taped to the wall that got the most natural light.

  “It’s over there.” He pointed next to the sofa.

  “Did you check it for a name?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  Amber retrieved it and opened the zipper compartments one by one. She blew out a breath. “I don’t see anything.”

  She held up the bag. A name was embroidered on the front pocket in small letters. Brooklyn. She showed it to Rylan. “The bag might’ve been borrowed, but we can call her Brooklyn for now.”

  “It’s a start,” he agreed.

  “What about social media? Surely, if you spent time with someone intimately you’d be following them or the other way around.” Discussing Rylan’s sex life wasn’t high on her list of post-holiday musts. Jealousy took another jab at her, so she straightened her shoulders. A man as hot and charming as Rylan had sex with women, probably any women he wanted. It wasn’t her place to judge. She’d had sex, too. She figured the only difference was that they were presently talking about his sex life.

 

‹ Prev