Ultimate Heroes Collection

by Various Authors

  Now she found herself wishing she had a girlfriend, somebody she could talk to about her confusing emotions where Zack was concerned, about the fear that now ruled her every movement, about how overwhelmed she felt about everything in her life at the moment.

  Grabbing a handful of files, she shoved those thoughts away. She’d never had much time for needy, weak people and she certainly didn’t intend to become one herself. She’d get through this.

  She returned to the kitchen to find Zack pouring himself another cup of coffee. “This is probably a waste of time.” She placed the files in the center of the table.

  “Maybe.” He carried his coffee cup back to his chair and sat. “But it’s been my experience that it’s the little things that sometimes matter the most. I’d rather waste time than overlook a clue.”

  She sat back in her chair with a frown. “It should be Jim Ramsey doing all this investigation work. As sheriff, that’s his job.”

  “True,” he agreed easily. “But would you be comfortable leaving the investigation in his hands?”

  She grinned ruefully. “I wouldn’t be comfortable leaving a donut in his hands.”

  He returned her grin as he reached for one of the files. She grabbed a file, too, trying not to think about how handsome he looked when he smiled.

  Again they focused on the material contained in the files. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the information, Zack kept intruding into her thoughts.

  “How did you meet my father?” she asked, realizing she’d never known what had brought the teenage Zack and her father together in the first place.

  He leaned back in his chair and although only a hint of a smile curved the corner of his lips, his eyes warmed as if the memory was a pleasant one.

  “I was sixteen-years-old and having a bad night. I wound up sitting on the bench in front of Crazy Joe’s bar looking for somebody of legal age who’d go inside and buy me a bottle of booze.”

  She looked at him in surprise and this time his smile involved his entire face. “Don’t look so shocked, I’d guess most every teenager suffers at one time or another with a dose of healthy teenage rebellion.”

  “Ha, you didn’t act that way the night you dragged me out of that motel room,” she countered. “That night you were full of self-righteousness and judgmental and acted like you’d never seen anyone indulging in a little rebellion.”

  “By that time I was older and wiser and I couldn’t believe you had been so foolish.” His eyes darkened just a bit. “You could have been drugged or raped that night.”

  She felt the flush that warmed her cheeks. “Let’s get back to the part of the story where you were young and rebellious and probably foolish, as well.”

  He grinned. “Okay, anyway, there I was sitting on the bench trying to get somebody, anybody, to buy me some booze and along comes Gray. He sits next to me on the bench and asks me which of the West boys I am. I told him who I was and we just struck up a conversation.”

  His smile faded but the light in his eyes remained warm, almost soft. “I can’t tell you what we talked about that evening. I just remember we sat on that bench for hours and at the end of it all Gray told me that if I ever felt like talking or just needed to sit a spell that his porch was a much better place to sit than in front of Crazy Joe’s. That was the beginning.”

  The beginning of the end as far as Kate was concerned. She’d been ten years old when Zack had first started coming around in the evenings. Her reaction to him had been one of irritation and resentment. She’d hated the handsome young man who seemed so easily to capture her father’s time and attention.

  She’d always believed deep in her heart that her father had wished she were a boy, that his life would have been much easier if Kate’s mother had died and left him with a son rather than a daughter. As far as Kate was concerned, Zack was the son her father had always wanted.

  “Why didn’t you come to his funeral?” she asked as a burst of that ancient resentment fluttered through her.

  He hesitated a long moment, then replied. “I did. I was out at the cemetery, but I stood up on the hill and watched the proceedings from there.”

  Shock filled her. “Why didn’t you come down and join the rest of us?”

  The light of his eyes was warm, so soft, then hardened before he looked away from her and took a deep sigh. “I’d just come off a bad assignment and didn’t feel like socializing. I said my private goodbye to your dad and that’s all that was important to me.”

  He cleared his throat and leaned forward. “And now we’d better get through these files. It’s getting late and I’d like to get through these before we call it a night.”

  As he focused back on the paperwork, she did the same but her thoughts were on the information he’d just given her. So, he had been at the funeral.

  She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d resented him for not being there. But he had, saying his own private goodbyes.

  He’d said he’d come off a bad assignment and she wondered what he meant. Was the bad assignment what had made him quit the family business? She shot him a quick glance. His expression looked closed off and forbade her to ask any questions about what he’d experienced before he’d returned to Cotter Creek.

  Besides, she reminded herself, it was none of her business. She had no desire to know Zack West in any capacity other than his work as her investigator and bodyguard.

  It was nearly ten when they grabbed the last two files from the center of the table. Kate opened hers at the same time she stifled a yawn. Exhaustion had set in about a half an hour ago. She’d had little sleep the night before and the bed in the spare room was calling her name louder and louder with each passing moment.

  The file folder in front of her was filled with what appeared to be receipts for farm equipment, some unframed awards from her dad’s bronco riding days and miscellaneous other papers too important to throw away but not falling under any particular category.

  Occasionally she found a slip of paper holding her father’s handwriting and the sight squeezed her heart with pangs of grief. Her father hadn’t been an old man. He’d only been fifty-five years old, far too young to die.

  She still couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t be around to walk her down the aisle when she eventually married, wouldn’t be here to spoil and love the grandchildren she might have given him. She was only twenty-three, too young to be all alone in the world.

  Thick emotion pressed against her chest and she knew it was probably overtiredness that made her feel vulnerable to the grief she’d tried desperately to keep at bay.

  “Nothing here,” Zack said with a weariness in his voice.

  “I just have a few more papers to go through.”

  “You want any more coffee? If you don’t, I’ll go ahead and shut it off.”

  “No more for me,” she replied. “I can’t wait to finish this up and get some sleep.” She returned her attention to the papers in front of her.

  All trace of sleepiness disappeared as she picked up the next-to-last piece of paper in the file. She stared at it for a long moment, knowing what it was and yet not understanding its very presence.

  “Katie?”

  She looked up at him as her heart plunged into the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter 9

  Katie had one of the most expressive faces Zack had ever seen. There had never been an emotion that she could hide and the expression on her face now indicated to him that she’d found something … something not necessarily pleasant.

  “What is it?” he asked. He returned to the table as she held up two sheets of paper.

  “It’s an appraisal.”

  “An appraisal? Of what?”

  “The ranch … this house, the land.” She held the papers out to him and he saw the slight tremble of her hands.

  He took the papers from her and looked at them, noting that apparently the appraisal had been done six months ago. It was a straightforward form, detailing the
condition of the house and the outbuildings, a legal description of the property and the appraisal price of value.

  He looked at Katie once again and noted the paleness of her skin, the hollowness in her eyes, and knew she was upset, but he didn’t understand why.

  “I don’t see how this could have anything to do with your dad’s murder,” he said. He set the papers down on the table. “What’s wrong, Katie?”

  She stood and without saying a word left the kitchen. He stared after her in surprise, wondering what was going through her head.

  He waited a moment to see if she’d return. When she didn’t, he got up from the table and went into the living room, but she wasn’t there. Frowning, he went down the hallway, past the empty bathroom and the master bedroom to the spare room. The door was closed but he could hear that she was inside and she was crying.

  For a long moment he stood in front of the door wondering what he should do, if he should do anything. What was wrong with her? Was it simply grief that had sent her away from the table and into the bedroom?

  He knocked on the door. “Katie?”

  “Go away,” her muffled voice replied.

  He told himself there was nothing he’d love to do more than go away and leave her alone. He had no desire to entangle himself in her grief, her drama, but he couldn’t go away. Not now, not knowing if the reason she was crying had anything to do with a potential motive for her father’s murder.

  He twisted the doorknob and opened the door. She sat at the foot of the double bed and scowled at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “How can you possibly mistake ‘go away’ for ‘come in’?”

  He ignored the scowl and her words and sat next to her. “You want to tell me what has you so upset?”

  She bit her bottom lip as if to stem another flow of tears. Her hands clenched tightly in her lap and the sight of her whitened knuckles let him know how hard she fought for control.

  “Katie, talk to me,” he said softly as silent tears once again trekked down her cheeks. There was something heart-wrenching about a woman weeping without sound, without any discernible sobs.

  She took a deep breath and unclasped her hands, then moved them up to wipe at her cheeks. “That appraisal was done six months after I came back here from college, six months after I told Dad that I wanted to work the ranch, be his partner.”

  She stood and walked over to the window, her back to him. “He never believed in me. That’s what the appraisal was all about. He never believed I would be able to run this place and so he was going to sell out.”

  Zack got up and walked to the window. With one hand he pulled the cord to drop the miniblind and with the other hand he took her arm to steer her away from the window.

  Even though she was caught up in an emotional tailspin, he was aware that she’d be a perfect target standing in front of a lit window at night.

  She allowed him to guide her back to the bed where they once again sat side by side. “Katie, you can’t know the reasons your dad had an appraisal done. It’s possible it had absolutely nothing to do with any sale of the ranch.”

  “Why else would he have one done?” she asked, her voice filled with the yearning of a woman wanting answers that made sense, answers that would still the misery coursing through her.

  “There are lots of reasons people have appraisals done. Maybe he intended to remortgage the ranch or get some kind of equity loan. Maybe he was just curious as to what this place was worth in today’s market.”

  Her blue eyes held his gaze and he saw how desperate she was to believe him. “Katie, the appraisal was done six months ago. If your father intended to sell the ranch, don’t you think he would have taken the next step? Told you his plans? Prepared you for losing your home?”

  Some of the hollowness in her eyes disappeared. “Surely he would have done that,” she agreed slowly. She reached out and covered one of his hands with one of her own. “Thank you, Zack.” She laughed uneasily. “I guess I just got a little carried away.”

  “Look, we’re both tired. It’s been a long day and what we both need is a good night’s sleep.” He stood, the action pulling his hand from hers. “Go to bed, Katie, with the knowledge that Gray would have never sold this place without telling you. He would never have put you out of your home. He loved you, Katie. He loved you more than anyone else on this earth.”

  For a moment her eyes shimmered with new tears. “Good night, Zack,” she said softly.

  “Sleep with the door open, okay? And I’ll see you in the morning.” He left the bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief. In the few hours he’d been inside her house he’d learned that bedrooms were much too small for the both of them.

  Over the years there had been occasions when Zack had bunked on Gray’s sofa. He knew the linens he needed would be in the closet in the hallway. He grabbed a sheet and a spare pillow from the closet then returned to the living room.

  It took him only minutes to prepare the sofa for sleeping. He shut off the kitchen light, then the one in the living room. He pulled off his T-shirt, then eased down into the familiar contours of the sofa, his 9mm on the coffee table within easy reach.

  As he lay there in the dark he could hear the sounds of Katie preparing for bed. A vision of her in that pink filmy nightgown flashed in his head. Did she have another one of those sexy little nightgowns? Was that what she was putting on right now?

  As always when he was on an assignment, all his senses were more finely attuned. He heard the chirp of crickets coming from someplace outside the living room window, the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. The light went out in the spare room and he heard the groan of the mattress beneath Katie’s weight as she settled in for the night.

  He tried to keep his mind away from the mental vision of Katie in bed, wearing something skimpy and smelling like a field of wildflowers. He needed to stay focused on business.

  He heard nothing amiss, nothing to indicate any danger lurking nearby. If it were physically possible, he would have gone without sleep until the threat to Katie had passed, but human limitations made that impossible.

  The best thing he could do was sleep lightly and keep in mind that danger could occur at any time. With this thought in mind he closed his eyes and willed himself to relax.

  It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly as he stood on the courthouse steps, waiting for Melissa to arrive. Summer rode the air with its sweet, flowery fragrance and he felt the pride of a job well done.

  He’d managed to keep her safe from her abusive exhusband. She would have a bright and wonderful future and after all the abuse and misery she’d experienced, she now deserved all the happiness that life could bring her.

  That was his wish for her … a life of happiness and love. He straightened as he saw her car pull into the parking lot. She stepped out of the car, wearing a pristine-white sundress. He raised a hand in greeting and at that moment a shot rent the air and the front of her dress exploded in a blossom of red.

  Zack shot up, his heart pumping like a piston. It took only seconds for him to orient himself and to realize that the woman in his dream had not been Melissa, but rather had been Katie.

  He wiped a hand down his face as his eyes adjusted to the semidarkness of the room broken only by the shafts of moonlight that filtered through the windows.

  Katie.

  How had she made it into the nightmare that had haunted him for the past month?

  A sound from the kitchen froze his blood. He stared toward the kitchen doorway at the same time his hand reached out and he grabbed his gun.

  Somebody was in the house … in the dark of the kitchen. Without making a sound, scarcely breathing, he eased up to a sitting position, his mind whirling with suppositions.

  Had the windows in the kitchen not been locked? He’d checked them twice. Had he missed something? He slid off the sofa and stood, the gun steady and reassuring in his hand.

  He approached the kitchen doorway, nerves calm, blood cold. As he moved closer t
o the door he spied a shape that didn’t belong standing just to the side of the refrigerator.

  “Freeze!” he said, and jumped into the room.

  “Don’t shoot! It’s me.”

  Zack muttered a curse, lowered his gun hand and hit the light switch to see Katie standing next to the refrigerator eating out of a carton of ice cream. “Jeez, Katie. I could have killed you.”

  “Sorry. Want some?” She held out a spoonful of black-speckled green ice cream. “It’s chocolate mint.”

  “What in the hell are you doing in here?” He was angry, but not at her. He was angry because she’d managed to sneak right past him and into the kitchen. He’d been sleeping too damned soundly. Mistakes like that got clients killed.

  She put the lid back on the ice cream carton and placed the carton back in the freezer. “I couldn’t sleep. I sometimes get up in the middle of the night and eat ice cream. It soothes my nerves.”

  “Yeah, well, it could have gotten you shot,” he retorted. He set the gun on a nearby countertop, hoping the surge of adrenaline would slowly filter out of him.

  She put her spoon in the sink then leaned back against the counter, her gaze holding his intently. He was grateful she wasn’t wearing one of those silky, see-through nightgowns but instead was clad in an oversize T-shirt.

  “Are you ready to go back to bed?” he asked.

  “Not just yet.” Her eyes held a strange light as she continued to gaze at him. “You were moaning.”

  “Excuse me?” He returned her gaze blankly.

  She pushed off the counter and advanced toward him, and every muscle in his body tensed once again. “When I came through the living room and passed the sofa, you were moaning in your sleep.”

  He stared at her, horrified by the very idea. “You must have been mistaken.”

  “No. I’m not mistaken.” She moved to within mere inches of him, so close he could feel the heat of her body radiating toward him.

  Had he moaned her name? Had the nightmare of her death so troubled him that he’d whispered her name in his sleep?