by Cassie Miles
But their subsequent behavior had been ruthless. Joey was murdered in cold blood. They’d torched their own vehicle. These were the acts of pros—men who operated without conscience.
“With any luck,” Barry said, “they’ve got a criminal record. If we find forensic evidence in the burned-out Jeep, we’ll want to use the FBI crime lab.”
“I’ve got no problem with cooperating,” Mace said. “That’s all I wanted from the start.”
But he didn’t intend to worry about the investigation now. His entire focus was on the woman who leaned against him. He wanted to make her world a safe, secure place. He wanted to end all her nightmares and give her sweet dreams.
She was so precious. She’d gone through so much. And, he realized, she would never feel truly safe until Joey’s murderers were apprehended.
Chapter Fifteen
After two days in bed, Nicole was more than recovered from her superficial bumps and bruises, but Mace insisted on treating her like an invalid. He wouldn’t even let her walk out to the barn unless he stuck to her side like flypaper—a particularly handsome scrap of flypaper, but annoying nonetheless.
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being with him, but she was anxious to return to a real-life routine, helping Jewel with chores, going back to work at the café and saving up for a car. She wanted something real with Mace, too.
Propping herself up against the pillows, she decided that this was the morning she’d assert her independence. Though the outside world was a dangerous place where the kidnappers were still at large, she couldn’t stay locked up forever like Rapunzel with her long golden hair. All the attention had been pleasant, and she deeply appreciated the “get well” flower bouquets from Deputies Philips and Greenleaf, from the gang at the Elkhorn Café, from Daisy at Las Ranas and from Barry. But it was time to move on.
There was a tap on her bedroom door, and she called out, “Come in.”
Mace entered, carrying two coffee mugs. One for him. One for her. He placed her mug on the bedside table. “How do you feel this morning?”
“Fine.”
He leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. All this gentleness had to change. Her enforced closeness to Mace without really touching him was driving her mad. She wanted real kisses—deep, hard kisses that she could feel all the way to her toes. She wanted to make love to him. But that was impossible while they were surrounded by dozens of caretakers. If they made love now, she’d feel like the entire population of Elkhorn was watching.
She picked up her morning coffee and took a sip. “How’s the investigation going? Any developments overnight?”
He nodded. His dark eyes glistened warmly, but she sensed an underlying nervousness. Over the past few days, she’d become expert in reading every nuance of his mood. She asked, “Bad news?”
“The opposite. Remember how I told you that we found a set of fingerprints on the burned-out vehicle?”
“On the gas cap. It was very clever of your men to look there.”
“We have an ID,” he said. “It’s a guy with a criminal record as long as my arm. The police in Denver have taken him into custody.”
This was wonderful news, but Mace didn’t sound too happy. “What’s the problem?”
“He has an airtight alibi for part of the time he was supposed to be here in Elkhorn. The cops are still holding him, but one fingerprint isn’t enough to make a case against him for kidnapping.”
“How’s Heflin taking this?”
“He’s back in Denver, too.”
She could tell something was bothering him. “Does it upset you that the momentum of the investigation has shifted to Denver?”
“Not really,” he said. “Like most folks around here, I’ll be glad when we’re left alone to handle our own business.”
“I feel that way, too.” Now was a perfect opening to tell him that she had to get out of bed. “It’s time for me to stand on my own two feet. I need to get out of the house.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“It is?” She was perplexed.
“Because I want to take you to Denver.”
The air squeezed out of her lungs. “I can’t go there. Derek is in Denver.”
“I know how you feel,” Mace said, “but it’s important to the case against this kidnapper that you go to Denver. You’re the only witness, Nicole.”
“I didn’t see anybody’s face,” she protested. She didn’t want to go to Denver. She couldn’t possibly be safe in that town. Derek would find her and tear her transient happiness to shreds.
“The Denver PD wants you to do a voice lineup.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like a visual lineup. You sit behind a protective screen. Nobody can see you. And you listen to several voices saying the same thing. If you can pick the kidnapper out of the lineup, it’s another piece of evidence they can use against him.”
“I still don’t like the idea.” But how could she refuse? She wanted the kidnappers behind bars. “But I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Mace stood. “We leave in half an hour.”
“Wait a minute. Why were you so sure I’d go along with this plan?”
He paused at the door to her bedroom. “The sooner we put the bad guys in jail, the sooner you’ll feel safe.”
As if she’d ever feel safe. The threat would always be alive in her memory. Fear was her constant companion. It had always been so.
Though the kidnappers had terrorized her, drugged her and left her to freeze in a cemetery, she was one hundred times more frightened of Derek. And now she was returning to his realm.
AFTER HITCHING A BOUNCY ride in a twin-engine airplane, she and Mace disembarked at Centennial Airport at the south end of town. She was back in Denver, the scene of her disastrous marriage. But this time she wasn’t alone.
Mace was never more than three feet from her. Though he was armed and carried his badge in his wallet, he didn’t look like the sheriff of the Western version of Mayberry, RFD. He wore his city clothes—a black business suit and polished loafers instead of cowboy boots. Still, no woman in her right mind would mistake him for an urban businessman. Mace radiated virility. The collar of his blue shirt was open, and she could see the gleam of his silver bear necklace, a symbol of protection. When he walked, he moved with the confident stride of a conquering hero. His dark eyes were in constant motion, scanning for threats. All in all, he looked untamed, like a sleek alpha male wolf in sheep’s clothing.
She had also changed from her standard blue jeans and sweater for the Denver trip. She wore her one and only skirt—a plaid wool A-line, midcalf—and a blue sweater. She’d fastened her hair on top of her head in a fashionably messy bun. She’d even put on lipstick and a bit of mascara.
“You look pretty,” Mace said.
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Sheriff. Where’d you get the outfit?”
“I used to dress like this all the time when I worked for Denver PD.”
“Even with the necklace?”
He nodded. “Turquoise and the bear are good luck, and a cop needs all the luck he can get.”
As they drove toward downtown in a rental car, Mace sprang another surprise. “We’ll stay here tonight.”
“In Denver? Why?”
“For one thing, it’s already two o’clock in the afternoon. We won’t get done with the lineup until five o’clock. Then it’s too late to fly back to Elkhorn.”
“What’s the other thing?” she asked suspiciously.
“While we’re here, I want to talk to Blake Wentworth again. I have a few questions for him.”
She grumbled, “This is a new theory, isn’t it? You think Blake was involved with the kidnappers.”
“He makes a good suspect,” Mace said. “His oil exploration business has suffered recent setbacks, and all that money was sitting there in Joey’s trust fund. I can see how Blake might have arranged this to get his hands on a share of the cash.”
“Surely you don’t believe he killed Joey.” Though she certainly wasn’t fond of Blake, who had been nothing but rude to her, she didn’t think he was the sort of vicious monster who would callously arrange for his own nephew’s brutal murder. “I think Blake liked Joey. He encouraged him in his artwork.”
“We traced those phone calls he made to Denver,” Mace said. “Three times he called an untraceable phone with a Denver prefix and talked for a total of thirty-three minutes.”
“How could a phone be untraceable?”
“It’s like the cell phones the kidnappers used, registered to a person who doesn’t exist,” Mace said. “He’s explained all this to the Denver cops, but I want to ask the questions myself.”
She settled back in the passenger seat and watched through the windshield as the suburban streets near Centennial Airport became progressively more urban in character. Her home with Derek had been in the upscale central area near the Denver Country Club where some of the stately mansions had been in the same family for more than a hundred years. Old money.
She knew that Blake Wentworth lived farther southwest in a relatively affluent suburb. Joey had told her that his uncle had picked a modest house close to his divorced wife and their three children. Would a cold-blooded murderer stay in contact with his family?
“There’s a third thing,” Mace said. “One more reason I want to stay in Denver overnight.”
“What’s that?”
“Alone time. Just you and me. I want one night when we can be together without my sister, ten deputies and half the population of Elkhorn looking over our shoulders.”
Her heart lifted. “I like thing number three.”
He glanced over at her and smiled. “I hoped you would.”
When she smiled back, he didn’t see a bit of wariness. He loved to see her smile. Nicole had changed so much since he first picked her up off the floor in the Wentworth cabin. Her fears weren’t gone, but they were quiet. Her confidence was real instead of a prissy princess act to keep outsiders away.
He was so eager about being with her tonight that he hardly gave a damn about the lineup and pursuing his investigation with Blake. Tonight belonged to him and Nicole.
In downtown Denver, he pulled into a familiar space outside the police headquarters. This wasn’t the first time he’d been back since he was elected sheriff of Sterling County. He’d stayed on decent terms with the guys in the big city, and they all pretty much agreed that Mace was a lot easier to handle as an ex-detective than when he and Barry built their reputation as two cops who never knew when to quit.
Inside the station, he introduced Nicole to a couple of guys he’d worked with. He said she was a friend.
“A good friend?” one of them asked.
“I hope so,” she responded.
“Tell me this,” the Denver detective said. “Does Mace still come up with a theory for every crime?”
She grinned. “You bet he does.”
“Oh, man!” The detective rolled his eyes. “He used to make me nuts with all his crime theories. He sounded like Sherlock Holmes himself.”
“Elementary,” Mace said. And maybe this time he’d found the evil genius worthy of his deductive skills. It was hard to imagine a crime more complicated than the abduction and murder of Joey Wentworth.
When Nicole was shown into the lineup room where she’d hear several different voices and, with luck, come up with a positive identification, he continued his shop talk, reviewing old cases. Successes and screw-ups. But his heart wasn’t in the good-natured joking. Even though Nicole was completely safe and in the company of other law officers, he didn’t like being away from her. Not even for a few minutes.
Also, his entire being focused on what would happen later tonight. He’d already made the hotel reservations and arranged for a suite. That way, if things didn’t work out, he could sleep on the sofa. Mace sure as hell hoped not. In the past few days he’d taken more cold showers than a rainbow trout.
She came out of the lineup room and flashed a brilliant smile. For a second he thought she might run across the room and throw herself into his arms. But Nicole was still too reserved for that kind of outward display.
“She nailed him,” the investigating officer said. “Perfect identification. We’ll hold him here until you and the FBI figure out what to do with him.”
Nicole stepped up close beside him and slipped her hand into his. “I knew his ugly voice as soon as I heard it. Finally I feel like I’ve done something useful.”
“And that deserves a celebration.” Mace nodded to the other cops. “Sorry, boys. You aren’t invited.”
NICOLE DIDN’T TELL MACE that the hotel he’d chosen for their alone time was the place where she’d suffered one of her most horrible evenings with Derek. In the banquet room her husband had received an award for some kind of phony achievement, and she’d received a punishment when they returned to their home.
It had been less than a year ago, but the hotel seemed very different when she swept through the revolving door on the arm of her studly lawman. The lights in the lobby didn’t glare so brightly. The air seemed warmer.
Since there was only one suitcase between them, they didn’t wait for a bellboy. Mace escorted her to the elevators, and they rode to the twelfth floor.
Their suite was beautifully furnished in Danish modern with fresh flowers on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
Mace turned to her. “What should we do for dinner?”
She hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob before closing it and purred, “Room service.”
“Are you sure? We’re in the big city. I’m pretty sure we can get something gourmet and not fried.”
“I’m not hungry. I’d rather be alone with you.”
“You’re not too tired?”
“Perfectly fine,” she said.
“Good.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the passion she’d been waiting for. The pressure of his mouth against hers was fierce but exquisitely tender. Their bodies fitted together like two halves made whole.
Trailing kisses to her ear, he nibbled on the lobe and whispered, “I’m pretty hungry.”
“I’m starved.”
He leaned back to look into her face. His head cocked to one side. His dark eyes absorbed her, drawing her inexorably closer, making her a part of him. She reached up and touched his bronzed cheekbone, traced the firm line of his jaw. Her thumb played across his lips.
“We should call for food,” he said. “I have a feeling I might need my strength tonight.”
“Let me order.” She went to the phone beside the sofa. Without consulting a menu, she ordered filet mignon, medium rare, with asparagus and pasta. A bottle of burgundy wine. And flan with caramel icing and dark chocolate for dessert.
“Sounds good,” he said. “How’d you know what to ask for?”
“Lucky guess.” She hung up the phone. “I haven’t spent my whole adult life working in restaurants without learning a little bit about food.”
He took off his suit jacket and sat on the sofa beside her. “Tell me what happened in the lineup at headquarters.”
“Everyone was very polite and introduced themselves—a couple of cops and a couple of attorneys. They asked me what the guys in the lineup should say—something I’d heard them say before.”
Two phrases had stuck in her mind. She’d played them on an endless loop, hoping that, with repetition, they would lose their ability to scare her. “When he saw me outside the café, he said, ‘We meet again.’” As soon as she spoke the words, she heard the echo of the kidnapper’s voice, a hateful sound.
“What else?” Mace asked.
The other threat came when she was delivering the ransom in the convenience store rest room. “He said, ‘If you tell him, you’re both going to die.’ I’ll never forget how terrified I was. I was sure he’d kill me. And you, too.”
“But he didn’t,” Mace said.
She hadn’t wanted to relive
those dark moments, but she couldn’t erase her memories. “He killed Joey, instead.”
Mace wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her for several moments, allowing time for the fear to dissipate. Softly he said, “You’ve been through a lot of trauma.”
She’d been shaken to the depths of her soul. Not even a lifetime of abuse could have prepared her for the terrifying regime of the kidnappers—from her ransacked cabin to the ransom delivery to that surreal night at Boot Hill. “I’m glad I didn’t have to do it by myself. If it weren’t for you, I’d be a total wreck.”
“I don’t believe it.” He nuzzled behind her ear. “You’re stronger than you look.”
Though his little kisses felt good, she stopped him. She held his face between her hands. “There’s something I need to tell you, Mace. Tonight I expect to make love to you. I want you to know that I’m doing this for all the right reasons.”
“What reasons are those?”
“Because I care about you. I feel a deep…” She hesitated, trying to find exactly the right word. Was it love? Somehow the time wasn’t exactly right to say that word. There were a few barriers left between them. “I feel a deep affection for you.”
“Okay, princess.” He enfolded her hands in his. “Same here. And no more lies.”
“Right.”
“Since we’re making confessions, there’s something I ought to tell you.” His eyes were warm. “Ever since I first met you, I’ve been fascinated by one thing. Nicole, will you take down your hair for me?”
“My pleasure.”
She rose to her feet and circled the coffee table to stand in front of him. Maintaining direct and slightly sexy eye contact, she reached up and pulled out the pins that held her bun in place. One by one she removed the fasteners.
Intently he watched her every move. His lips parted. His breathing quickened. His barely suppressed arousal excited her, as well.
Finally her long blond hair was free. She shook her head and the long tresses cascaded past her shoulders to her waist in a shimmering, silky curtain.