Briefly, Ryan described to her what the police had discovered. “They found the dead man’s car parked outside of Gary’s house. Well, close to outside Gary’s house. They don’t know the significance of that, obviously, because they don’t know about Leanna. But clearly Leanna tried to get the guy to drive her somewhere, something went wrong, she shot him, and then she dumped the body and took the car.”
“And my fingerprints are in it.”
“All the police can prove is that, at some point, you were in that car,” he said. “They don’t know when you were there. They don’t know why you were there. There are plenty of legitimate reasons for you to have been in that car. Quentin is working on coming up with an explanation. Barrett is hanging around, ready to help them lose some evidence if need be.”
Angela looked out the small hospital room window. She was on a lot of medication, and he could tell that she was processing things more slowly. She was also a bit anxious, despite the fact that she had survived the worst of it all and was going to be all right. He wasn’t surprised. She had been through so much, and she hadn’t had any time to work through most of it. It was going to take her quite some time to figure out if she was actually all right or not.
And he had no doubt that she wasn’t going to want to stay here to do it. It had been nice of her supervisor from the university to stop by to see her and assure her that the university was behind her, but if Ryan was Angela, he wouldn’t want to stay in a place that had tormented him and almost killed him.
He had said he would go with her, and he had meant it. But he wasn’t sure that he had meant he would go indefinitely. He was free, emotionally, to travel now, and he wanted to see somewhere outside of the home that had also, in a way, been his prison. But to leave his friends and his family forever?
That would be hard.
He had only known Angela for a few days. No one would understand, and it would be a ludicrous life decision.
But despite knowing that, he also knew that he just didn’t want to be without her. Even though he was worried that he would always regret leaving his home behind, he knew that if he lost Angela, he would regret that more.
“Gary killed Leanna,” Angela said, the statement coming out of nowhere. “Didn’t he?”
Ryan nodded. “Yes. He did.”
“And he tried to pass it off as a disappearance?”
“Yes,” Ryan said again. “I think it was an accident. I’m not sure. You can’t trust anything that Leanna said. But there was some struggle for the gun.”
Angela looked back at him, her eyes becoming bleary with sleep. “I don’t want to ruin his life, or those kids’ lives. Or Dahlia’s life. They’ve all been through enough if they had to live with Leanna for any period of time. Can we just let him keep his lie?”
Ryan smiled slightly, rubbing her hand. “Yes, I think we definitely can. Justice is funny sometimes. Leanna’s death is justice, I think. And it would be wrong for Gary to pay for it for the rest of his life.”
Angela nodded, turning her head back towards the window. “Yes, it would. But what about the man that Leanna killed? It’s not right that his family never know what happened to him. If they can’t prove that I did it, either because there’s not enough evidence or because you tamper with the evidence they do have, then no one will ever know how he died. That’s not justice.”
There was something so pure about Angela. She was a genuinely good person in a world where few of them remained. Ryan lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I know, honey. I wish there was a way around it, but it isn’t justice for you to pay for the crime either. I can’t let that happen.”
“I’m not a martyr enough to suggest that,” Angela said, watching as his fingers caressed hers. “I just …nothing will ever be quite right again, will it?”
“You won’t ever forget what’s happened,” Ryan agreed, wishing that he could change that for her, but knowing that there was no way he could. “You’ll always be different than when you arrived here in Louisiana.”
“In more ways than one,” Angela said, lifting her eyes to his. “Ryan—about us …”
There was something about the tone of her voice that gave him pause. Dread settled into his stomach, but that seemed to be a constant state for him now. “What about us?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“We haven’t known each other that long.”
The dread grew. “That’s true.”
“We’ve shared a lot.”
“Also true,” he said, watching her face.
“I care about you a lot.”
Ryan looked away from her, knowing what was coming next. He hadn’t considered this possibility, and he was a fool for it. He had fallen for her so completely, and he was willing to give up everything for her. But, of course, she might not want him to. She might not feel that much for him. He had told her he loved her, but he didn’t know if she had heard him. And he didn’t know if she felt the same way.
Clearly, she did not.
“Ryan,” Angela said, when he didn’t respond. She pressed his fingers, and he let go of her hand, his palms sliding across the denim of his jeans. “Ryan, I’m not saying—.” Angela’s words cut off, as though she really wasn’t sure what she was saying. “I just …I want you to know that I don’t expect anything. I think that we have a connection. I know we do. You’re amazing …”
“Don’t,” Ryan said, finally turning back to look at her. “Don’t do that whole part of it, please. You can just say what you mean. It was the silver lining to what we were dealing with, you and me. That’s all it was.”
“No,” Angela said “No, I’m not saying that. I’m getting it all wrong. I …should have waited until I wasn’t so foggy.”
Ryan stood up from her bed and reached for the remote that would lower her down into a prone position. “You should get some rest,” he said, keeping his eyes averted from hers and his tone light and casual, despite the turmoil inside of him. “You’ve dealt with plenty today. You have an alligator attack to recover from. That’s no small thing.”
“Ryan,” Angela said, her voice soft and pleading. “Please don’t take it this way. I care about you so much. I …too much, maybe. I just don’t know how this works. You, here. Me, there. Across the ocean.”
He wasn’t going to remind her that he had offered to move with her. Or at least visit long-term. She knew that.
“If we were back home, it would be different,” Angela said. “Maybe it still can be different. I don’t know anything right now. I don’t know when I’ll walk again. I don’t know if I can stay at the university. I don’t know if I can see the trees of the bayou in the distance and feel safe.”
“You need to go home,” Ryan agreed, keeping himself busy with making her comfortable in her bed and checking her various devices to make sure they were monitoring correctly. “I understand that.”
“And if you came with me, you would only resent me,” Angela said. “Maybe not immediately, but some day. You have a purpose and a life here. There …how would you be who you really are?”
It wasn’t that she was wrong. It was that he didn’t want her to be right. Or rather, he wanted her not to care that she was right. He wanted her, like him, to be willing to fight for what was between them.
But it had only been three days, and she had only fallen into his arms because she thought that nothing was real and that it didn’t matter one way or another. He had thought that there was something real there, but maybe that had only been him.
“Go to sleep,” he said, tucking the blanket around her. “You need plenty of rest. I’m going to take care of everything.” He still wasn’t looking directly at her when he spoke. The sight of her beautiful face would be too much to handle right now. “In the morning, when you wake up, you’ll have your life back. And whatever you do with it will be your decision.”
“Ryan,” Angela said, gripping his wrist as she straightened up. “Please don’t hate me.”
He finally did
look at her, giving her a small smile. “Angela, I could never hate you.”
“I’m trying to do what’s right for you.”
Ryan gently eased his hand away from hers, pressing her fingers lightly before releasing her. “I won’t be far away. I’m going to step out into the hall to check on things. Hannah will sit with you tonight, and I’ll be back in the morning. Jordan will stop by periodically to help you heal. That’ll be our secret—the doctors will just think that you’re making marvelous progress.”
He took a step back and started to turn away, but then he looked back at her, deciding that there was little left to lose at this point.
“I meant what I said, Angela. I love you. Everyone wants to know that there is someone in the world who loves them. You can always know that.”
Chapter 39
Angela
The medications she was on for her leg dragged her into a deep sleep, despite her troubled mind. She slept deeply for long stretches, but then woke with fitful spells. During those times, she thought only about one thing—Ryan. She should have known better than to say anything to him about their relationship when she was still processing the shock of what she had gone through, and while she was still on medications. The look of hurt on his face was burned into her mind, and it was almost unbearable.
She had wanted to tell him that she loved him, too, but doing that would have been cruel after she told him that no matter what they felt for each other, she didn’t see how they could be together.
And the fact that she loved him didn’t change her mind about what was in store for them, ahead. She didn’t want to stay here in Louisiana, and he couldn’t move to Bristol. Wouldn’t it hurt so much more if they tried to make it work and only ended up hating each other?
Somehow, Angela made it through the night. When the pain in her leg grew unbearable, a nurse always came in and gave her more medication. She was aware of Hannah, Ryan’s friend, nearby in the room, but Hannah didn’t ask her to talk and Angela didn’t volunteer anything. Now and then, Jordan would slip into the room and put her hands on Angela’s leg. Angela knew that it was helping her, but at moments, she felt as though she would never really be whole again.
When the morning dawned and light filled her hospital room, she was both hopeful and despairing, alternating back and forth between the two without warning.
It was in one of her moments of despair that an officer knocked on her door, then walked into the hospital room. “Ms. Winston?”
Angela opened her eyes, pushing away her regrets about Ryan and peering up at the stranger. “Yes?”
“I’m Detective Harkrider. How are you feeling?”
“Not quite myself,” Angela said, the words thick in her throat. The police were here, and she didn’t know what to say. What was her story? Inevitably she was going to say something wrong, and then everything that Ryan had planned would fall apart.
Hannah was on her feet, standing up out of the chair she’d spent the night in. “Officer, Ms. Winston isn’t up to questioning at this moment. She’s on a great deal of medication and in a lot of pain.”
“I understand that,” Harkrider said. “I’m sorry to come at such a bad time. But there are a few things that I need to go over with you, Ms. Winston, and I’m afraid they can’t wait.”
“They’re going to have to,” Hannah said firmly, stepping between the detective and Angela’s bed. “Ms. Winston is unavailable.”
The officer stepped toward Hannah. “Ms. Winston is going to need to make herself available. Ms. Winston has some serious questions to answer about an open homicide.”
Angela decided that she could speak for herself. “Officer, I’m not an American citizen, but I believe that I have certain rights. Is that correct? I believe I have the right to remain silent, given that anything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law. I believe that I also have a right to a lawyer, and that if I request one, you cannot continue questioning me until such time as that lawyer is present and has adequately advised me.”
Harkrider stepped around Hannah, who now allowed him to, and narrowed his eyes at Angela. “You’re right—you’re not from around here. See, here, we think those things make you look guilty.”
“And I think that you tell people who resist your questioning that doing so makes them look guilty, when, really, you just want to circumvent their rights,” Angela said. “I may look guilty to you, detective, but I intend to assert my rights. I have nothing to say to you, and I won’t until I’ve been fully advised by a lawyer.”
She didn’t know if this is what she was supposed to do, but she couldn’t risk saying anything to the man without knowing what else Ryan had done during the night. Her memories were still too blurry for her to remember the details of what she and Ryan had discussed the night before—except for their discussion about how they couldn’t be together, the look on his face, and the way he had abruptly left.
“How about I set you up with a lawyer, then?” Harkrider asked, his tone sharp and irritated. “Something tells me you won’t be in a hurry to obtain counsel.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Ryan appeared in the doorway to the hospital room, walking in and getting into Harkrider’s personal space just enough to demonstrate that he was in charge of this situation. His frame was much larger than Harkrider’s, and he towered over the man, looking down at him through narrowed eyes.
Ryan’s presence was huge, but that wasn’t what Angela was thinking about. The sight of him had slammed right through her, taking over her senses and sending her heart pounding. Just seconds before, she had been resolved to walk away from him, but the sight of him appearing that way, the sight of his handsome face, the sight of his hands, both strong and gentle—the sight of all of him. She was suddenly breathless with emotion, and if there had been any doubt in her mind that she loved this man, it was gone. For the first time, she realized just how much she loved him, and the realization that there was that much love that one person could feel took her breath away.
It changed everything, whether she wanted it to or not.
Harkrider raised his eyebrows. “Ryan Minton. Causing trouble again, I see. I thought I might run into you here. Do I need to remind you that you and your fellow private investigators aren’t actually cops? In fact, I hear that the agency is going a bit downhill these days. Misplacing some money and some paperwork?”
Angela didn’t know what Harkrider was talking about, but she could tell from the way that Ryan’s eyes narrowed even further that he was not happy.
“You leave the agency to us,” Ryan said. “We might not be cops, but we’re clearly better investigators.”
“Oh is that so?”
Ryan crossed his arms over his chest, widening his stance, so that he really was bearing down on Harkrider. “Must be. Because I seem to be the only investigator in this room who knows about your new lead, detective. See, Ms. Winston here goes to school with the dead man’s sister, who borrowed his car on Saturday. The sister gave Ms. Winston a ride to a party that they both went to, and on the drive home, the sister was too intoxicated to drive safely. So Ms. Winston drove. That’s why her DNA was in the dead man’s car.”
Harkrider scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s a very convenient story that would be very easy to verify. It’s hardly a new lead.”
“No—the new lead is that there happens to have been an escaped prisoner in the area. Known to have been armed and dangerous.”
Harkrider had nothing to say to that, clearly caught unaware. His jaw worked as he clenched it, and then he suddenly turned back towards Angela. “Retain counsel, Ms. Winston. I will be checking your supposed alibi.”
He left the room, and Hannah followed after him at Ryan’s glance.
Suddenly, Angela and Ryan were in the room alone together, and neither of them quite knew what to say.
“How are you feeling?” Ryan asked.
Still overwhelmed with the emotion that had hit her when he walked i
n, Angela swallowed hard around the lump that was suddenly in her throat. “I’m all right.”
His brow knit with concern and he walked closer toward her. “You don’t look all right. What is it? Are you in pain?”
Without warning, Angela began to cry, the tears rolling down her cheeks. She abandoned all of her responsibility and her resolve, and she reached for him. Concerned, Ryan took her hands in his, moving to her bed and sitting down. She was in his arms in an instant, clutching him to her, and then her mouth was on his, and he was holding her desperately tight, returning kiss after kiss after kiss.
“I’m sorry,” she said, between kisses. “I’m so stupid. I was miserable all night. I never meant—I mean, I did mean what I said about not knowing how this will work. But I …I love you.” She had been afraid to say the words or even think them, but the way she had felt when he stood there in front of her made her realize that the feelings that she’d had all night since she’d sent him away were only going to get worse. And even if she didn’t know how to make it work, not even trying wasn’t the answer.
“I love you,” she whispered again, looking up into his eyes. “Please tell me that it’s not too late, and I didn’t scare you off.”
Ryan smoothed her hair back, resting his forehead against hers. He smiled, his hand caressing her cheek. “I haven’t slept at all. I’ve been rehearsing the speech that was supposed to convince you that I won’t resent you if I move to Bristol.”
She closed her eyes, more tears falling, but they were tears of relief. “Really?”
“That, and getting you off from a potential murder charge,” Ryan said, tilting her chin up for another kiss. “Beautiful girl. He wrapped her up as close as he dared with her injuries. “I love you. Nothing else matters. We’ll figure it out.”
“I love you, too,” Angela said, “and not just because you got me off on a murder charge.”
“Not yet,” Ryan said, kissing her shoulder and then easing her back against the bed. “You have to rest,” he told her when she protested. But he kept her hands in his, and he never looked away from her face as he spoke. “The alibi that I gave the detective will check out. I’ve arranged that. Don’t worry. And there is an escaped felon in the area right now, but there’s no link to the dead man. That lead will never pan out. Barrett was able to tamper with the hairs and the fibers, contaminating the samples so that they won’t serve as good evidence.” He laced his fingers through hers and pressed warmly. “They won’t be able to charge you with anything. Not with a verified alibi and no solid evidence. It’s going to be okay.”
Rockwell Agency: Boxset Page 24