“Who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
He searched her face, absorbing the implications of that. “And you went there alone?”
“He demanded it. He said he’d leave if I brought anyone with me.”
She’d wanted information. He’d have been desperate for that, too. And he could think of only one man who’d use that tactic to draw her out. “It was my father.”
“His voice was strange. Like he was talking through something.”
“Disguising his voice?”
“Yes.”
His father had lured Eliza out to the stable and then he’d set it on fire.
“Why would he try to kill me?”
That’s exactly what Brandon would like to know. A fireman approached while others went to work on the stable. Local police weren’t far behind.
He looked toward his destroyed stable and then back to Eliza. A paramedic worked with her. She wasn’t hurt badly enough to be taken to the hospital, thankfully. But Brandon would be damned if he’d let his father get another chance at her. He’d kill him first.
* * *
The next evening, Eliza sat in Brandon’s library that also served as his office. It was a bright and cheery room with very little clutter. The white bookshelves and simple gray chairs promised hours of comfortable reading time. The desk with only a computer faced the window and a view of the back patio, dark now that the sun had set.
She’d come in here to think. And to get away from Brandon. With his father still on the run, he was on heightened alert and wouldn’t stop stressing that she not go anywhere without him.
“There you are.”
She plopped her head back against the gray-and-white fainting couch. “Can’t I go into another room without you?”
“I didn’t know if you’d left.”
“I won’t leave without you.” She’d told him that more than once. Didn’t he believe her? The man sure had trust issues.
Leaving would, however, be the smartest decision for both of them.
He sat in one of two solid gray chairs in front of a white corner bookshelf with a wry smirk shaping his mouth and eyes. “You keep running away from me.”
Now it was her turn to smirk. His use of the word running had been deliberate. “Maybe you should learn by example.” They both should run from each other, lest they end up in bed together again.
No longer taunting, he said, “My father hasn’t been captured yet.”
Would he come after her again? She’d be much more careful now. “I still can’t believe he’d try to burn me alive in the stable.”
“Believe it.”
“What if it wasn’t him?”
“It was him. It was him in the tan car. He’s been watching me and David. And he’s—”
He stopped abruptly.
“He’s what?”
He met her eyes with reluctance. “He’s seen us together.”
Where? In town? Here at the ranch? Had he seen them horseback riding? If he’d noticed the chemistry between them, maybe he’d drawn his own conclusion that Brandon felt something for her and decided to take her away from him as a form of punishment. For doing nothing wrong. For crimes his father had invented against him. His father had killed someone while driving drunk. Brandon had not killed his mother. But Jack Reed was determined to have his imagined revenge.
“Do you think he could have killed David?”
“Yes.” There was no inflection of doubt in his answer. His father was capable of murder. He was an evil man. “But would he kill the sheriff and senator?”
The sheriff was blackmailing the senator, not David, and David was probably taking money from one or both of them and not paying them back. Where was the connection? She didn’t see a connection to Jack Reed other than through David. It must be what had the authorities stumped. Who would have a reason to kill all three? A liar, a cheater and a thief.
“I wish David would have talked to me before he died,” Eliza said. And she wished they could have talked about more than his trouble. Before he was strangled to death. Strangulation seemed like such a passionate method to kill someone. A lot of hatred would have to go into that effort. And strength. Or the element of surprise.
“I wish I could have talked to him, too.”
The quiet way Brandon said it veered her focus to him. What he was really saying was he wished he could have saved his brother. Again. Brandon had spent most of his life protecting people. The only time he protected himself was when he sent his father to prison. And whenever women got too close to him.
If only they’d had closure with David before he had died. If they had, maybe it wouldn’t feel so awful to think of the night she’d slept with Brandon. And so good. Naughty pleasure. Remove David’s murder and her marriage to him and she’d be falling in love with Brandon all over again.
“What would we have said to David?” If they’d had the chance. What would they have said? Sorry, we slept together? David may have gone through with an annulment, but the betrayal would have hurt nonetheless.
“Made him tell us what kind of trouble he was in.”
Brandon was still stuck on that side of the tragedy. “Yes, of course. But what would we have said to him about...”
She didn’t have to finish.
“Nothing.” His brow sank low.
He would have denied it? Hidden it from his brother?
“That feels just as cheap as letting it happen in the first place.”
Brandon stood up. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Neither did I. That doesn’t change the fact that it did.”
“You would have told him?”
She turned her head, trying to imagine how David would have reacted. She’d always been an honest person. Secrets didn’t travel well with her. The truth was always better than the lie.
“Yes. I would have told him.”
“Why?”
“I would have apologized. I never dreamed I’d be one of those women. You know, the kind who sleeps with another man when there is a marriage at stake. I don’t care how bad my marriage was. David was still a good person. He deserved more respect than that.”
The shadows under Brandon’s brow deepened. He was growing more and more angry. “How do you think it makes me feel? If there is a way to make it right, we will.”
“But how? We can’t change what happened. We can’t take it back.” And yet, even though he was dead, she still wanted to give David respect. How else could she live with herself?
“By never making that mistake again. For David.”
It was where she’d been heading, but now that Brandon had voiced it, she felt a sort of impossibility. Why did it feel so impossible to give David respect by not sleeping with his brother again? It should feel right. Integrity should rule. Instead, it seemed the scandal did.
“Do you think we’ll be able to?”
His hesitation revealed he felt the same as her. “I’ll make sure we do.”
He would make sure. Watching how torn he was over this, she began to realize more than guilt over sleeping with his brother’s wife ripped him apart. Fear played a role. This powerful attraction had mushroomed into something uncontrollable. He’d push her away again if she got too close.
She’d be a fool to let her heart get wrapped around him again. Best to follow his lead and cling to the integrity in avoiding him in David’s memory.
Discontented, Eliza rose from the couch and walked to the big window. Darkness blanketed the glass. All she saw was her own reflection. Sad blue-green eyes. Flat mouth. Her long brown hair was a mess. She ran her fingers through it to smooth it a little. Distraction in its smallest form.
The figure of a tall man appeared on the other side of the glass, mixing with her reflection. Shock paralyzed her. He wore black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, and his dark eyes bore through the window at her, menacing and purposeful.
Before Eliza could scream, the man lifted a gun.
/> She dove out of the way of the window as he fired, shattering glass. She landed on her side. Hearing Brandon’s gun go off several times in rapid answer, she rolled as he came to her.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded quickly. “Who was that?”
“I’m going to kill him!” He straightened, his words chilling. Watching him pick up a chair and hurl it through the cracked window alarmed her. Then he jumped over jagged edges of glass and ran after the man who’d appeared in the window. It had to be his father, Jack Reed. Jumping to her feet, she followed.
“Brandon, no!” He was going to kill his father. While it seemed justified, he should leave it to the FBI.
Brandon crossed the darkness of the minimally landscaped backyard and disappeared into the trees bordering the property. Going after him, she could barely make out his form. Moving slower than him, she listened to him thrashing through the underbrush.
The sounds ceased. A few steps deeper into the woods, she spotted him. He stood with his gun raised, turning in circles in a small clearing. Eliza heard no other sounds. Jack must have either gotten away or gone still somewhere in the trees.
She was just about to go to him when Jack emerged from the trees behind Brandon.
“Brandon!” she yelled.
But he was already in motion. As he turned, Jack knocked the gun from his grasp. Then he had his gun on Brandon.
“You think you can come after me?” Jack hissed.
Brandon didn’t answer.
“You think you can follow me into these woods and shoot me?”
Eliza stayed by a tree trunk, helplessly watching.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. All I need you to do is see this.” He turned his aim to Eliza. “It’s time for you to learn your lesson, boy.”
Eliza ducked behind the tree trunk just as Brandon knocked his father’s wrist and the gun fired. The bullet caught some bark to the left of her.
The man was delusional! He’d stop at nothing to kill her.
“Bastard!” Brandon roared, punching Jack in the face. His head bounced backward with the force. He grunted in pain and looked at Brandon in surprise. He hadn’t expected his son to be so strong. He may have crept up behind him, but he couldn’t overpower Brandon, who was at least four inches taller and thicker in the arms and shoulders.
Brandon grabbed Jack’s wrist and squeezed. Jack winced and held firm to the gun. Brandon pushed his wrist so the gun whacked Jack on the temple. Jack resisted, but Brandon was stronger, hitting him like he was a rag doll or a puppet on a string.
The gun was loosened from Jack’s grasp, and Brandon threw it in Eliza’s direction. Then he swung his fist. Jack ducked and plowed into him. The two went down. Rolling on the ground, Brandon wrestled his way on top and began hitting Jack in the face.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” Brandon said between slugs.
Jack swatted his arm and grabbed Brandon by the throat. Brandon stopped hitting him and tried to pry his hand away. Jack twisted his body and threw Brandon off. He punched Brandon and managed to crawl to his feet.
Brandon stood and moved toward Jack, a predator with clear and fearless intent. Jack backed away, wary of Brandon’s rage and agility.
“I’m going to kill you,” Brandon said, his voice low and full of dark menace.
Eliza didn’t doubt he meant it. She walked toward him. There was enough murder going on in town. She slid her hand over his biceps.
He kept advancing on Jack, who kept stepping backward.
Brandon bent and came up with his gun, never having moved his gaze off Jack.
“Brandon, no.” Eliza gripped his biceps again, harder this time. “Let the FBI do that.”
He didn’t glance at her, but she saw a softening in his eyes. She’d made contact with his reasoning.
Jack continued to back away.
“Go call the police, Eliza.” He took a step toward Jack.
Jack pivoted and bolted into the trees. Brandon fired his gun several times and then ran after him.
Picking up Jack’s gun, she waited for Brandon to return. A few minutes later, she hurried back to the house to call the police. Shortly thereafter, Brandon appeared in the clearing from the trees. As he neared, she saw his fury.
“What happened?”
“He got away.” He began pacing along the edge of the patio on the grass, looking toward the trees, gun gripped tightly in his hand.
“The police will catch him. Let’s go inside.” She moved toward him, putting her hand on his biceps. “Zimmerman will be here soon.”
He stopped pacing and looked down at her, nearly trembling with anger. “I let him get away.”
“It’s all right. He got away. He’ll be caught eventually and be sent back to prison.”
The dark menace of his eyes told her prison wasn’t enough. Brandon wanted to kill his father. Really wanted to kill him. The desire consumed him. His jaw was rock-hard and his eyes were a passage to the darkest part of his soul. She began to worry about him. “Brandon.”
“Go inside, Eliza.” He shrugged away from her touch and stepped back.
“Let’s both go inside.” Why did he want to stay out here? To stand guard? Or would he try to find his father? She’d never seen him like this. “It’s okay, Brandon. No one was hurt tonight.” She reached for his hand and eased the gun from his grasp.
The killing drive didn’t lessen in his eyes. He looked at her, boiling on the inside, years of abuse swarming over him. Instinct compelled him to fight back.
He moved his gaze off her, across the patio to the table. Barely restrained, he moved to one of the chairs and picked it up, lifting it high over his head. Turning, he hurled it with a growl, sending it sailing far across the lawn.
After it tumbled and went still, he faced her again, his eyes flashed fiery brown rage. “You shouldn’t be with me right now.”
Sympathy poured through her. His temper was well justified. “Come inside, Brandon.” She backed farther into the house to give him plenty of room.
After a brief hesitance, he did. Was he wondering if his show of temper would frighten her?
“I need to be alone right now,” he said.
“No, you need to be with me right now.”
“Eliza, it isn’t safe for you to be with me.”
Because he threw a patio chair? “You wouldn’t hurt me.”
He went into the living room and stood there, tipping his head back and breathing as though trying to find his chi.
She walked up to him, putting her hand on the back of his shoulder. He turned.
“It’s okay.” She tried to calm him.
He slid his hand along the side of her face. “I don’t know what I would have done if he hurt you.”
“He didn’t. You stopped him.”
Unable to refute that, his temper began to cool. His thumb caressed her cheek. Heat soothed the angry energy in his eyes. He kissed her, the need to finish venting his frustration compelling him. She gave him all he asked. Deep, gnashing. Until passion forged a burning path through anger and the kiss turned sweeter. Softer.
Eliza moved her hands up his chest, wrapping her arms around him. He put his hand over her rear and pulled her closer.
Careful not to let the kiss get carried away, Eliza moved back. He released her.
“You see?” she said, lightening the mood. “You don’t have to be alone.”
* * *
The marshal showed up with Zimmerman this time. Eliza experienced a bit of déjà vu sitting on the sofa in Brandon’s living room with the detective on the same chair as the first time she’d been questioned. Last night she’d been questioned outside, and the time before that she’d been taken to the station. This should feel like old hat by now. The only difference was the austere marshal standing on the other side of the coffee table, no notebook in hand, no change in his expression as Zimmerman introduced him as Marshal Dodge. Tall and lean and wearing a cowboy hat, the marshal listen
ed without interrupting as she explained what happened. Brandon stood beside him, facing Zimmerman and closest to Eliza.
“Your father tried to shoot Eliza?” Zimmerman directed his question to Brandon.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure he wasn’t trying to shoot you?”
The detective doubted even Brandon. Eliza found that very curious.
“I’m sure. He aimed the gun at her, not me.”
Zimmerman leaned back on the chair, arms comfortably resting on the armrests. “Isn’t it true you and Eliza are having an affair?”
Eliza felt her head move back with the impact of that. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d heard about the rumors.
“No, that isn’t true,” Brandon said.
“Both Jillian Marks and your brother—” Zimmerman turned to her “—Ryker Harvey, think you are.”
“Ryker?” Her face went white-cold. Why had he said that?
“He told us about the history of your relationship and how close the two of you are becoming.”
Eliza was too astonished and hurt that her brother would do such a thing to say anything. She couldn’t think about anything other than the maliciousness of it.
“He doesn’t know. He’s speculating.”
“It isn’t only him. Jillian saw the two of you together, kissing. Ryker has seen you together, as well. Not kissing, but he’s seen you and noticed something in the way you are together. They can’t take their eyes off each other were his exact words.”
Eliza couldn’t stop her face from flaming. Neither she nor Brandon could deny the claim. The rumor was based on assumptions and Jillian’s lie. That woman hadn’t seen them kissing. She was doing everything she could to split them apart.
They weren’t even together.
But who would believe that? Zimmerman didn’t. He thought Brandon was protecting Eliza.
Brandon’s jaw clenched with Zimmerman’s skepticism. She wondered which it had more to do with, the rumor or the danger his father presented.
“Jack Reed is trying to kill me,” Eliza insisted. She’d rather avoid the rumor herself.
“Why would he do that? I see plenty of motive to go after Brandon,” the detective said, “but none for you.”
“He was going to shoot her in the woods,” Brandon said, explaining what Jack had said.
A Rancher's Dangerous Affair Page 15