by Eve Gaddy
Rico Santiago flashed a grin, teeth white against his olive skin, and lowered his hand to extend it in greeting. Will gripped it, feeling another one of those odd rushes of emotion similar to what he’d experienced the first time he saw Jed and Emmy again. Damn, he was getting sappy in his old age. He stepped back and let Rico in, closing the door after him.
“Muy bien. ¿Como estás, Will?” Slapping him on the back, Rico added, “But I think it’s the other way around. It’s about time you showed up here. Why did you run off like that? You know Mama and Papa would have taken you.”
“The last thing your parents needed was another kid to feed. Besides, your mother’s already lectured me about that.” Remembering, he rubbed his ear.
Rico laughed. “She told me. I’d have come to see you sooner, but I just got back in town. Been on vacation with my wife and kid.”
Rico Santiago with a wife and kid. Will shook his head, thinking back on some of their wilder adventures and Rico’s reputation with women. “How many kids?”
“One.” He smiled proudly. “A beautiful little girl.”
“Isabella said you married Layla St. Cloud. How’d you manage that? I know you always had the hots for her, but when I left, you couldn’t even get her to go out with you.”
“There was this storm. The rest is history,” he added with a wicked grin.
“Someday I want to hear that story.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Rico said, and they both laughed.
“I thought your mother was going to bust when she told me you’d become a doctor. You did good, Rico.”
“I had a lot of help, and it was still hard. I can’t imagine what it was like for you. It must have been tough.”
“It wasn’t much fun,” Will said, then shrugged away the memories. “But I survived.”
“And became a Ranger. I was surprised at first, but when I thought about it, it made sense. I could see you as a Ranger. It’s hard to imagine you working with Fielder, though.”
Will smiled briefly. “He’s not real thrilled about it.”
“Why don’t you come to the restaurant with me?” Rico said. “I’ve got something to talk to you about, and I don’t want to do it here.” He frowned at his surroundings.
“About the case?”
Rico didn’t look happy. He nodded. “And you’re not going to like it.”
WILL WAITED until after they’d finished lunch before broaching the subject that occupied both their minds. “Okay, give. If you’ve got something about Frannie’s case, why not tell me at the station?”
Rico leaned back in his chair, but he didn’t look comfortable. “I didn’t want Fielder in on it. It’s about Jed. I heard you arrested him.”
“Yeah.” He frowned, a picture of Jed as he’d looked that evening flashing into his mind. “Not one of the days I want to relive.”
“No, I don’t imagine you would. It must have been hard.” Will nodded, saying nothing. “I also heard you were looking for anyone who saw Mrs. Granger the morning she disappeared.”
Will brightened. “Why, did you see her?”
Rico leaned forward, propped his arms on the table. “No. But I saw Jed.”
Again Will didn’t speak, just waited for his friend to go on.
“I hooked school that day and went down to Bubba’s dock. I decided to con Rob Boulder out of some night crawlers so I could fish. Around eight-thirty, maybe a little later, I saw Jed pull up in his boat. He didn’t see me.”
“What are you saving, Rico? Just tell me.”
His friend’s bleak gaze met his. “There was blood on his shirt, Will. A lot of blood. More than just a cut finger would account for.”
“Shit.” He thought a moment. “He could have hurt himself fishing. It’s easy to do.”
“Except he probably hadn’t been fishing yet.”
Given the timing Will was forced to agree. “You’re absolutely sure he was bloody before he gassed up his boat?”
Rico nodded. “I’m sorry, Will. I never told anyone because we didn’t know Mrs. Granger had died. It didn’t seem important at the time. Then when they found her bones, well, I thought about it, but I just couldn’t see going to Fielder. You know how he is with the Hispanic community.” He made a crude gesture that signified what he thought of the sheriff. “Besides, I didn’t want to implicate Jed if that’s all there was to go on. But when I heard you’d taken over the case, I knew I had to tell you.”
“Damn it!” Will pounded his fist on the table. “Damn it, why did it have to be Jed?” After a moment he said, “You did the right thing, telling me. I just wish to hell you hadn’t seen anything.”
“Me, too, amigo. Me, too.” They were both silent, then Rico added, “Look, Will, I’m no cop, but I see a lot of people in my practice. See them hurt, upset, grieving, angry. And I don’t think Jed did it. He looked angry and upset, but he didn’t look or act like he’d just killed someone. He was too—” he shrugged “—too normal.”
Small consolation. The D.A. would steamroll right over that comment. “It doesn’t make sense. I can’t see him burying Frannie under a bush and going off fishing. I just don’t see it.”
“No, I don’t, either. Do you have to tell Fielder?”
He heard no censure in Rico’s voice, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like hell. He nodded slowly. “Fielder and the D.A. I can’t conceal evidence pertinent to the investigation.” No matter how damning for Jed.
One more nail in Jed’s coffin.
AFTER MAKING PLANS to get together later in the week, Will had Rico drop him back at the station. He immediately called Thorndyke, Jed’s lawyer, arranging to question Jed about the new development later that day. He sure as hell hoped Jed had a good explanation for the blood, but he had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t.
Deciding he’d better bring Fielder up to speed before the questioning, he sought him out, finding him in his office. “I’ve got something new on the case,” he said without preamble.
“About Louis?”
“That’s right.” Will told him the story, with Fielder giving the expected response. The sheriff brushed aside Rico’s comments about how Jed had looked, focusing instead on his bloodstained clothes.
“She died of a blow to the head,” Fielder said. “There’d have been a good bit of blood. Especially when he dragged her around to bury her.” He shook his head, all but rubbing his hands together in pleasure. “It sure don’t look good for Louis.”
Standing by the window, Will frowned at him. “We haven’t questioned Jed yet. Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation for the blood.”
The older man snorted scornfully. “You betcha. It’s called murder.”
“You’re so convinced of Jed’s guilt, you can’t see that this isn’t logical.” He crossed the room to stand over the sheriff’s desk. “Be reasonable. You’ve got an eighteen-year-old kid who kills his foster mother, the woman who raised him since he was six. You think he’s going to bash her head in, bury her under a bush and go off fishing like nothing had happened?” he asked scornfully. “And not even look upset?”
Fielder leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “I’m not saying he meant to do it. Maybe he just wanted to scare her and things got out of hand. You gotta admit, the blood don’t look good.”
Of course, the blood didn’t look good. Not a damn thing looked good for Jed. “Okay, so he tries to scare her to get his way and ends up killing her. You think he’d have been that cool about it? He probably wouldn’t have realized she was dead. Don’t you think he’d have gone for help?”
Fielder nodded. “Yep, his lawyer’ll say that all right. But I don’t buy it.”
Will smacked a fist down on the desk in frustration. “And I don’t buy that Jed Louis killed his foster mother and t
hen went fishing like not a goddamn thing had happened. We’ve got an eyewitness who’ll swear Jed didn’t look like he’d just murdered someone.”
“Could be he don’t remember.”
“If he remembers the blood, then he’d remember what Jed acted like, what he looked like. And Rico Santiago is a doctor now. His word, his professional opinion will carry some weight.”
“It’s up to the D.A.,” Fielder said stolidly, “what we do with this new development.”
Someone knocked on the door. Glaring at each other, they both ignored it.
“I plan to talk to the D.A., too,” Will said. “I intend to make sure he pays full attention to Rico’s statement. All of it, not just the part that screws Jed.”
“Sheriff?” Deputy Masters called through the door. “Is McClain in there with you? Tessa Lang is out here and she says she needs to see him. Says it’s important.”
“Tell her I’ll be right there.” He looked at Fielder grimly. “Think about it, Sheriff.”
He found Tessa in the waiting room, bag in hand. As he led her to his office, he was almost afraid to ask what was in it. He couldn’t decipher her expression. “Bad news?”
“I don’t know.” She stared pointedly at the bag, not at him. “I think, though I’m not certain, that it’s a glasses case.”
He looked at it through the clear plastic. “A glasses case? What kind?”
“It’s badly tarnished and corroded, but I believe it’s silver.”
He turned it over in his hands, but really couldn’t tell much about it, so he took Tessa’s guess as to what it was. Glasses. Jed didn’t wear glasses. And if he did, he sure as hell wouldn’t have had a silver case for them. Neither would Frannie. For the first time, a little hope stiffed in his chest. “Found in the same location?”
She nodded. “Very near where I found the ring.”
“How the hell did the sheriff’s men miss something this size? The ring I can understand, but this thing should have stood out like a beacon.”
“They might have found it and thought it was trash,” she offered. “It’s hard to tell unless you’ve been trained.”
But they should have kept anything from the site, trash or not. Staring at it, Will frowned. Something about the object was ringing a bell. He’d seen something like it, but he couldn’t place where or when. He looked up at Tessa and smiled. “This is the first break Jed’s had. If I can date this case, find its origin, it might cast suspicion on somebody else.” For a change. Finally, something good to report.
He glanced at Tessa and noticed she was looking at him oddly. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing.” She bit her lip, then said, “No, that’s not true. I—I need to talk to you.”
He stepped forward and put a hand under her chin. Beneath the slight sunburn, she looked pale, fragile. “The heat’s getting to you.” His fault, since his job had kept her out in the sun.
She jerked back, away from him. “It’s not the heat,” she snapped. “I’m an archaeologist, I’m accustomed to being in the sun.”
“What is it, then?”
“I don’t think this is the place to talk. It’s personal.” Her hands twisted together nervously.
Personal. He cocked his head and studied her. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, especially considering she looked anything but happy. What could be so bad? “Okay. I have to get this to the lab, but I can come by after work.”
“I’d rather come to your place.”
“All right. I’ll call you.”
She nodded, then started for the door. Will caught her arm. “Tessa, wait. Don’t go back to the dig. It will keep until morning.”
Her gaze met his. Once again, he couldn’t read her expression. “I’m not sick, Will.”
Maybe not, but something was sure as hell wrong. “Trust me. You don’t need to go back there today.” An odd look flickered in her eyes. He bent to kiss her, but she turned her head and his lips landed on her cheek. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, releasing her.
Tessa tore out of his office like she was running from a wildfire.
Women are really weird, he thought, and then, since he couldn’t do anything about Tessa, he got down to business. The business of finding something to clear Jed.
Chapter Twelve
THAT EVENING, Tessa arrived at Will’s with her course of action planned. Giving herself a pep talk, she raised her hand to knock. She intended to be calm. Dignified. She would simply ask him for the truth. And if he admitted he had been with Amanda? What then?
Simple. She’d kill him.
Will opened the door and pulled her inside. Before she could speak, he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her as if it had been days, not mere hours, since he’d last touched her. In spite of herself, her muscles began to go lax, her body throbbed.
Had he kissed Amanda like this?
A swift pain stabbed her heart. Tessa put her hands on his chest and shoved him, at the same time, turning her head. “Stop. We have to talk.”
Clearly baffled, he released her. “All right. Do you want to sit down?”
She shook her head, choosing instead to walk to the window and stare sightlessly out of it. Asking about Amanda was even harder than she’d imagined.
“What’s on your mind, Tessa?”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I realize we haven’t . . . That is, we never talked about our . . . I don’t know what your feelings are about it, but I can’t—”
“Tessa.” He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. Instead of their usual green, his eyes were gray and filled with concern. “Just tell me.”
Could he look at her like that, so sweet, so sincere, and all the while be sleeping with another woman? Other men have done it, she thought bleakly. “I realize neither of us is looking for anything permanent, but I . . . You may think I’m old-fashioned, but I . . .” Furious with herself that she couldn’t even get the words out, she broke off.
Totally mystified, Will stared at her.
She blurted out, “I can’t be with a man who’s sleeping with another woman.” Her throat closed. To her horror, she sniffed. “I know I should have said something in the beginning, but I didn’t think—” Composure cracking, she halted again.
“That’s what you’re upset about? You think I’m sleeping with someone else?”
She nodded miserably. “Are you?”
“Of course not. I’m involved with you.”
He said it so easily. So quickly. As if it shocked him that she’d even imagine such a thing. “That doesn’t matter to—to everyone,” she said, thinking of Kirk. He had thought nothing of chasing everything in a skirt, all the while telling her he loved her.
“It matters to me.” He put his hand under her chin and forced it up, holding her gaze. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, Tessa. Don’t you know I’m crazy about you?”
Startled, she blinked. “No. I mean, I knew you liked me but—“
“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” He took her in his arms and kissed her mouth gently. “Because I’m seriously—” he pulled her closer and kissed her again, harder this time “—seriously crazy about you.”
He smiled at her and her heart gave the funny little lurch it always did when he looked at her that way. As if . . . as if he really cared about her. He didn’t look guilty, or worried that she might not believe him. Will expected people to believe him, she realized, because he didn’t lie. With Will, what you saw was very much what you got. A man trying to do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt him. A man of his word.
How could she have believed him capable of anything else? He was nothing like Kirk.
Sighing, she leaned into him, her forehead against his chest, content to feel his arms around her. �
�I’m sorry. You must think I’m an idiot.”
He rubbed her back. “No, I think you’ve been burned. And if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He led her to the couch and sat, pulling her down beside him. Taking both her hands in his, he kissed them. “But first tell me where this idea came from. What happened?”
Glancing away, she bit her lip. “You know what they say about eavesdroppers never hearing anything good. At the Catfish Corner, I heard Amanda Jennings talking to a friend. She implied you and she were lovers.” Drawing a breath, she looked at him. “More than implied, she flat out said it.”
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Damn, I knew better than to tell her about you. I should have known she’d take that as a challenge.”
“What do you mean?”
Dropping her hands, he leaned back and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, settling her against his side. “Last night, before I went to your place, I stopped by Amanda’s to question her about Frannie’s case.” He smiled wryly. “Amanda had other things in mind. So I told her I was involved with someone. I guess she figured out it was you. Seeing us together at Santiago’s would have been her first clue.”
So Ellen was right. Amanda had been making sure Tessa heard her. “She’s a beautiful woman. I’m sure she’s wondering what you see in me.”
“Don’t do that,” he said, frowning. “Don’t run yourself down.”
“It’s not running myself down to recognize that I’ll never look like Amanda.”
“So? You look like Tessa. That’s better. I’m partial to redheads, myself. Redheads named Tessa.” He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Forget Amanda. Tell me about him.”
“Who?”
“The guy who did the number on you.” He held her hand, rubbing his thumb gently back and forth over her pulse.
She’d never told anyone. Who had there been to tell? Until Ellen, she hadn’t had any close girlfriends. Her mother wouldn’t have understood—or even cared. But Will cared. So she told him.