Despite Charlie’s efforts to protect Hope, what little information Zack got from the girl offered no alternative suspect and merely added to the mystery of what exactly happened in the Covington mansion that morning.
After an hour and a half of questioning, it was Grace who finally called a halt to the interrogation. “That’s enough for tonight, Zack,” she said firmly, as she rose from her chair. “Hope is exhausted. She isn’t going anywhere. If you have more questions for her, you can ask them another time.”
Zack nodded and reached over and turned off the tape recorder, then slipped the small device into his pocket. “I’ll be in touch. I guess I don’t have to tell you and Hope not to leave town.”
“Innocent people don’t leave town,” she replied vehemently.
Zack left the room and Grace leaned over her sister. “We’re going to go now, honey. We need to take care of some things. Nobody will bother you for the rest of the night. Just get some sleep and try not to worry. Charlie is going to fix all this, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Charlie nearly groaned out loud. Sure, that was easy for her to say. But he was a defense attorney turned rancher, not a miracle worker.
They left the room together, and once out in the hallway Grace slumped against the polished wall. For the first time since arriving at his ranch, she looked lost and achingly fragile.
His need to touch her—to somehow chase away that vulnerable look in her eyes—was incredibly strong. “Do you need a hug?” The ridiculous words were out of his mouth before he’d realized he was going to say them.
She released a bitter laugh and shoved off the wall. “I’d rather hug a rattlesnake,” she said thinly.
If he had any question about the depth of her dislike for him, her curt reply certainly answered it.
“It doesn’t look good, does it?” she asked.
“It doesn’t look great,” he replied.
“So what happens now?” she inquired, as they continued down the hallway to the hospital’s front doors.
“Nothing for now. Questioning Hope is only the beginning. We really won’t know how much trouble she’s in until Zack’s completed his investigation into the murder.”
They stepped out into the unusually warm spring night air, and again he caught a whiff of her sweet floral scent. He wanted to ask her if she was dating anyone, if she’d found love with somebody else in the eighteen months since they’d been together.
He reminded himself he had no right to know anything about her personal life, that he’d given up any such right the night he’d gotten drunk and fallen into bed with a woman whose name he couldn’t even remember.
“I don’t want to wait for Zack,” she said. “I want us to investigate this murder just as vigorously as he will.”
Charlie looked at her in surprise. “That’s a crazy idea!” he exclaimed.
“Why is it crazy? You told me once that you worked as an investigator before you became a lawyer.”
“That was a long time ago,” he reminded her.
She crossed her arms, a mutinous expression on her face. “Fine, then I’ll investigate it on my own.” She turned on her heels and walked off.
Charlie sighed in frustration. “Grace, wait,” he called after her. “I can’t let you muck around in this alone. You could potentially do more damage than good for Hope.”
“Then help me,” she said, her voice low with desperation. “I’m all that Hope has. The only way to make sure she isn’t railroaded for a crime she didn’t commit is for me to find the guilty person, and that’s exactly what I intend to do—with or without your help.” She paused, her eyes glittering darkly. “So, are you going to help me or not?”
He shoved his hands in his jeans pocket and shook his head. “I’d forgotten just how stubborn you could be.”
“I don’t think you want to start pointing out character flaws in other people,” she said pointedly.
To Charlie’s surprise, he felt the warmth of a flush heat his cheeks. “Touché,” he said. “All right, we’ll do a little digging of our own. The first thing you should do is make a list of William’s friends and business associates. We need to pick his life apart if we hope to find some answers.”
“I can have a list for you by tomorrow. Why don’t you meet me at my shop around noon, and we can decide exactly where to go from there.”
“You’re going into work?” he asked in surprise.
“I’d rather meet you at the shop than at my place,” she replied.
“All right, then, tomorrow at noon,” he agreed reluctantly. Charlie had worked extremely hard over the last six months to gain control and now felt his life was suddenly whirling back out of control.
She nodded. “Charlie, you should know that just because I came to you for help—just because I need you right now—doesn’t mean I like you. When this is all over, I don’t want to see you again.” She turned and left without waiting for a response.
Jeez, he seemed to be watching her walking away from him a lot, especially after throwing a bomb at him. Still, he couldn’t help but notice the sexy sway of those hips beneath the suit skirt and the length of her shapely legs. A surge of familiar regret welled up inside him.
He was a man who made few excuses or apologies for the choices he made, but the mistake of throwing Grace away would haunt him until the day he died.
The morning sun was shining brightly as Grace parked in front of her dress shop on Main Street. She turned off the engine but remained seated in the car, her thoughts still on the visit she’d just had with Hope.
Hope had been no less confused about the events of the day before and didn’t seem to understand that at the moment she was the best suspect they had.
Fortunately, Dr. Dell wanted to keep her under observation for another twenty-four hours, and that was fine with Grace. The tox screen had come back showing a cocktail of drugs in Hope’s system but Hope was still vehemently denying taking anything. At the hospital, Hope was safe and getting the best care.
Grace wearily rubbed a hand across her forehead. The day was just beginning, and she was already exhausted. Her sleep had been a continuous reel of nightmares.
She’d been haunted by visions of Hope stabbing William and then taking the drugs that knocked her unconscious. And if that hadn’t been bad enough, images of Charlie also filled her dreams.
Charlie. She got out of the car and slammed the door harder than necessary, as if doing so could cast out all thoughts of the man.
She focused her attention on the shop before her. Sophisticated Lady had been a dream of hers from the time she was small. She’d always loved fashion and design, and five years ago for her twenty-fifth birthday, William had loaned her the money to open the shop.
Grace had worked her tail off to stock the store with fine clothing at discount prices, and within two years she’d managed to pay back the loan and expand into accessories and shoes.
Now all she could think about was whether she’d sacrificed her sister’s well-being for making her shop a success. She’d spent long hours here at the store, and when she wasn’t here she was away on buying trips or at Charlie’s place for the weekend.
As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t know what had been going on in Hope’s life lately, but she intended to find out.
She entered the shop, turned on the lights and went directly to the back office, where she made a pot of coffee. With a cup of fresh brew in hand, she returned to the sales floor and sat on the stool behind the counter that held the register.
Much of her time the night before had been spent thinking about William, grieving for him while at the same time trying to figure out who might want him dead. The list of potential suspects she had to give to Charlie was frighteningly short.
The morning was unusually quiet. No customers had entered when Dana Taylor came through the door at eleven-thirty. “Hey, Grace,” she said, her tone unusually somber. “How are you holding up?”
“As well
as can be expected,” Grace replied. “Right now I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around it all.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dana replied sympathetically.
“I was wondering if maybe you’d be available to take some extra hours for a while. I’m going to be busy with other things.”
“Not a problem,” Dana replied, as she stowed her purse under the counter. “When Ben got home from the hospital last night, he told me not to expect to see a lot of him for the next week or two.” She didn’t quite meet Grace’s eyes.
“There’s a new shipment of handbags in the back. If you have time this afternoon, could you unpack them and get them on display?” Grace asked, desperate to get over the awkwardness of the moment.
“Sure,” Dana agreed. “Any business this morning?”
“Nothing. It’s been quiet.” Grace turned toward the door as it opened to admit Charlie.
An intense burst of electricity shot through her at the sight of him, and instantly every defense she possessed went up.
“Morning, ladies,” he said as he ambled toward the counter. Clad in a pair of snug jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt, he looked half rancher, half businessman and all handsome male.
His square jaw indicated a hint of stubbornness and his eyes were fringed with long, dark lashes. His nose was straight, his lips full enough to give women fantasies of kissing them. In short, Charlie was one hot hunk.
His energy filled the air, and despite her wishes to the contrary, Grace felt a crazy surge of warmth as she gazed at him.
“Good morning, Charlie,” Dana replied. “How are things out at the ranch?”
“Not bad. The cattle are getting fat, and I’ve got a garden full of tomato and pepper plants that are going to yield blue-ribbon-quality product.”
Pride rang in his voice, a pride that surprised Grace. Two years ago, the only things that put that kind of emotion in his voice were his fancy surround-sound system, his state-of-the-art television and the new Italian shoes that cost what most people earned in a month.
He turned his gaze to Grace. “We need to talk,” he said. His smile was gone, and the enigmatic look in his gray eyes created a knot in Grace’s stomach.
“Okay. Come on back to my office,” she said.
He followed her to the back room, where she turned and looked at him. “Something else has happened?”
“No, I just have some new information.”
“What kind of information?” She leaned against the desk, needing the support because she knew with certainty whatever he was about to tell her wasn’t good.
“Did you know that Hope has a boyfriend?” he asked.
She frowned. “Hope is only fifteen. Their relationship can’t be anything serious.”
One of his dark eyebrows quirked upward. “When you’re fifteen, everything is serious. His name is Justin Walker. Do you know him?”
Grace shook her head, and a new shaft of guilt pierced through her. She should have known her sister’s boyfriend. What other things didn’t she know? “So, who is he?”
“He’s a seventeen-year-old high school dropout with a bad reputation,” Charlie replied. “And there’s more. Apparently Justin was a bone of contention between William and Hope. William thought he was too old and was bad news and had forbidden Hope from seeing him.”
Grace sat on the edge of her desk. “How did you find out all of this?”
“I had a brief conversation with Zack this morning. I wanted to be up-to-date on where the investigation was going before meeting you today. And there’s more.”
She eyed him narrowly. “I’m really beginning to hate those words.”
“Then you’re really going to hate this,” he said. “On the night before the murder, Hope and William went out to dinner at the café. An employee told Zack that while there, they had a public argument ending with Hope screaming that she wished he were dead.”
Grace’s heart plummeted to her feet, and she wished she didn’t hate Charlie, because at the moment she wanted nothing more than his big strong arms around her.
Chapter 3
Justin Walker lived with a buddy in the Majestic Apartments complex on the outskirts of town. The illustrious name of the apartments had to have been somebody’s idea of a very bad joke.
The small complex had faded from yellow to a weathered gray from the Oklahoma sun and sported several broken windows. The vehicles in the parking lot ran the gamut from souped-up hot rods to a rusty pickup truck missing two tires.
“You sure you want to do this?” Charlie asked dubiously, as he parked in front of the building and cut his engine.
Grace stared at the building in obvious dismay. “Not really, but it has to be done. I want to know exactly what his relationship with Hope was…is. I want to hear it from him, and then I want to hear it from my sister.” She turned to look at Charlie. “Does he work?”
“He’s a mechanic down at the garage, but he called in sick this morning.”
“You managed to learn a lot between last night and now,” she observed.
He shrugged and pulled his keys from the ignition. “It just took a phone call to find out if he was at the garage today. Somehow I knew you’d want to talk to him.” He directed his gaze back at the building. “But, just because he isn’t at work doesn’t mean he’s here.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” She opened her car door and stepped out.
Charlie joined her on the cracked sidewalk and tried not to notice how pretty she looked in the yellow skirt that showcased her shapely legs and the yellow-flowered blouse that hugged her slender curves.
This whole thing would have been so much easier if during the time they’d been apart she sprouted some facial hair or maybe grown a wart on the end of her nose.
“Which unit is it?” she asked.
“Unit four.” He pointed to the corner apartment, one that sported a broken window. Grace grimaced but marched with determined strides toward the door, on which she knocked in a rapid staccato fashion.
Charlie stepped in between her and the front door, protective instincts coming into play. He had no idea if Justin was just a loser boyfriend or an active participant in William’s murder.
The door opened and a tall young man gazed at them with a wealth of belligerence. He looked like he wasn’t having a good day. “Are you more cops?” he asked, his dark eyes wary and guarded.
Grace moved closer to the door. “No. I’m Grace Covington, Hope’s sister, and this is her lawyer, Charlie Black. Are you Justin?”
He hesitated a moment, as if considering whether or not to tell the truth, then gave a curt nod of his head, his dark hair flopping carelessly onto his forehead. “Yeah, I’m Justin. What do you want?”
“Sheriff West has already talked to you?” Charlie asked.
Justin’s eyes darkened. “He was here half the night asking me questions.”
“May we come in?” Grace asked.
Justin’s eyes swept the length of her and he scowled. “You don’t want to come in here. The place is a dump.” He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
“You were dating my sister?” Grace asked.
Justin barked a dry laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call it dating. She’s not allowed to date until she turns sixteen. We hung out, that’s all. When she’d show up down at the garage after school, I’d take a break and we’d just talk. It was no big deal.”
There was hostility in his voice, as if he expected them to take issue with him. “Were you sleeping with her?” Grace asked. Charlie wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the question, himself or Justin.
Justin gave her a mocking smile. “Don’t worry, big sister. As far as I know your baby sister is still as pure as the driven snow.”
“Where were you yesterday morning?” Charlie asked. “Your boss told me you weren’t at work.” He felt Grace stiffen next to him.
“Funny, the sheriff asked me the same thing.” Justin clutched his stomach. “I’ve bee
n fighting off this flu bug. Yesterday I was here in bed, and if you don’t believe me, my roommate will vouch for me. I didn’t leave here all day.”
“And your roommate’s name?” Charlie asked.
Justin stepped back toward his apartment door. “Sam Young, and now I’m done answering your questions.” He stepped back inside and shut the door firmly in their faces.
“Do you believe him?” Grace asked when they were back in Charlie’s car and headed for the hospital.
He cast her a wry glance. “In the words of a famous television personality, I wouldn’t believe him if his tongue came notarized.”
Her burst of laughter was short-lived, but the sound of it momentarily warmed his heart. Charlie always loved to hear her laugh, and there had been a time when he’d been good at making her do so.
“After we speak with Hope, I need to find out if I can go to the house and get some of her things,” Grace said. “Dr. Dell thought he would release her at some point this evening or first thing in the morning, and we’ll need to get some of her clothes and things to take to my place.”
“When we get to the hospital, I’ll call Zack and see what can be arranged.”
“I’d like to talk to Hope alone. I don’t think she’ll be open about her relationship with Justin if you’re there, too.”
“Okay,” he replied. He glanced at her and caught her rubbing her temple. “Headache?”
She nodded and dropped her hand back into her lap. “I think it’s a guilt thing.”
“Guilt? What do you have to feel guilty about?” he asked in surprise.
A tiny frown danced across her forehead, doing nothing to detract from her attractiveness. “I should have been paying more attention to what was going on in her life. I should have been putting in less hours at the store and spending more time with her.”
“Regrets are funny things, Grace. They rip your heart out, but they don’t really change anything,” he replied. He was an old hand at entertaining regrets.
“You’re right.” She reached up, massaged her temple once again and then shot him a pointed look. “You’re absolutely right. The past is over and nothing can change the damage done. What’s important is to learn from the mistakes made in the past and never forget the lesson.”
The Rancher Bodyguard Page 3