“I had my reasons.”
“What? To get shot and die from blood loss? I’m going to have to call Drummond to check on your stitches and make sure you didn’t rip anything out. As soaked as that bandage is, I’m betting you did.”
“I should have called Liza.”
“Hmm, you’re calling an FBI agent by her first name.”
Shane rolled his head to glare at Nic. “Yeah, so what of it?”
Her eyes gleamed with some of that Irish mischief she’d gleaned from her in-laws as she wagged her dark hair back and forth. “You don’t like the FBI. Not once in the all the years I’ve known you would you call an agent by their first name. Hell, it took you almost a year to actually say Boyce. What gives?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Frankly, Bartholomew was acting strange about you, too. Is there something going on between the two of you?”
“When I say nothing, does that mean anything to you?”
“Only for me to push harder. Damn it, Shane, I’ve seen you at your best and now at your worst, but the one thing you’ve always shied away from is a relationship. What the hell for?”
“Nic—”
“Can it, cowboy, I won’t hear excuses. If that FBI agent brings out the thing that has been long dead inside of you, it’s time to get back up on that damn horse and ride it out. Quit lying to yourself.”
Shane broke eye contact and closed his eyes. Damn her bluntness, but he wasn’t about to listen to her nag. The only woman allowed to do that was his mom, and she wasn’t here to do it. “I’m not arguing with you over this. While we’re waiting on Murdoch and Hartmann, I’m going to rest.” He peeked at her through a half-open lid. “Good with you?”
Nic saluted and then shut the truck door with a smack. The sound rattled through Shane’s body, jarring his inflamed injury.
Yeah, he didn’t miss her pissy attitude that much. And he wasn’t going to miss Liza, either. It was time for all of them to hit the road.
• • •
“You didn’t lose any stitches, but you disturbed the whole wound, which is why you started bleeding again.”
And ruined another good T-shirt, along with his jacket. “But I found what I was looking for.”
The good doc was not amused. “Shane, if you don’t stay home, I’ll admit you to the hospital and have the nurses put you in restraints.”
“I swear I’ll stay home. Swear it on my honor as a cowboy.”
“A fat lot of good that’ll do you.” Drummond packed up his portable kit. “Nic, are you and Xavier going to stay here until I can find a suitable nursemaid for this big pain in the ass?”
“We can hang for a bit,” she said from her perch leaning against the doorframe to Shane’s bedroom.
“After the way he busted my ass, I’m going to enjoy this,” Xavier called up the hall.
Nic snickered. “Don’t be too hard on him, li’l brother”—which was a total oxymoron, because Xavier outweighed and stood a good four to five feet taller than Nic, though he was younger than her—“he did set you up with Jolie.”
“You had to go and ruin it,” the Aussie bemoaned.
“See what I get for sticking up for you?”
“Thanks, I guess,” Shane groused.
Drummond sighed. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an autopsy report to type.”
“Wait, Doc.” He shifted on the bed. “What’s the verdict on Schofield?”
“He died from a gunshot wound to the heart, and that’s all you get to know as it’s not your case.”
“What about the final results on Frost?”
“Shane, as your doctor in this situation, put a cork in it. I’ll give any and all findings to Agent Bartholomew or your deputies. You’re off duty.” Drummond nodded to Nic. “Later.”
“Ass,” Shane called out.
“One of the best,” Drummond answered from the hallway.
Nic’s bemused expression remained as they waited for the front door to close. Once Drummond had officially exited, she pushed off the doorway and moved to Shane’s bedside. “Who was the ring for?”
He grasped the troublesome thing and hid it in his fist. “There are still some sacred things in my life.”
“All right, for that I won’t pry.” She turned her back to him, starting to leave. “Just curious, since I haven’t seen that before today, and it looks like it’s a part of you.” She paused in the doorway to look back over her shoulder. “Does Liza know about it?”
“Return to your post, Marine.”
In a childish move that was unlike Nic, she stuck her tongue out at him and then disappeared. She’d been hanging around children too long.
Shane sagged into the mattress. The narcotics had kicked in the moment Drummond arrived to poke around. Well, at least he hadn’t undone all the good doc’s hard work at patching him up. But that didn’t stop the sizable amount of ass-kicking Shane was giving himself for pulling the stunt. He should have waited for Liza to return and gone out there together. But he never was one to wait on others. It’s what got him a chest full of medals and too many fast-track promotions.
Shane had a death wish then, and it looked like it had never left.
His weighted eyelids drifted down. He tried to snap them open, but the pull of sleep was powerfully motivated by drugs.
He lost track of time, and when he came to next, there was a pair of dark eyes looking back at him.
“Next time I’m going to remove the batteries.”
He smiled. “Please tell me you didn’t learn how to do that boosting cars?”
Liza scowled. “My foster brother was a mechanic in the army.”
“When?”
“About the same time you were.” She said it more like a question than a reply, but he wasn’t going to confirm it. Liza had figured out too much without his help.
She reached up and traced a crease in Shane’s forehead. “Why’d you go out there alone?”
“I can’t explain it.”
Her gaze searched his face. “That’s not good enough for me.”
“Liza, I’m not used to relying on anyone for help. I give the orders, and I do what I have to.”
“Quotes a stubborn man. Well, guess what, you’re now confined to a bed because you couldn’t follow orders. Worse, had Nic not got a hair up her ass to come check on you, you could have died out there.”
“I would have called you.”
Her hand stilled, and she frowned. “Why? I mean, we aren’t exactly friends or partners.”
His right hand unclenched—shit, had he been clutching Cheyenne’s ring the whole time he was sleeping?—and he took hold of hers. “No, we’re not, but there’s something here. I know you feel it, too.” He might deny to others there was anything going on, but for some reason—maybe it was the hydrocodone talking—there was a connection.
“I think it’s just bad food. Pop-Tarts aren’t a recommended part of a healthy diet.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
Suspicion creased her features. “What do you think?”
Quickly, before she clued in, he lifted his head off the pillow and claimed her lips. Liza stiffened for a fraction of a second but melted as he nudged her to accept his kiss. It was as good as he thought the first time. She was both parts sweet and spicy, and he couldn’t get enough of her taste.
Stilling, she sighed against his lips and pulled away, resting her forehead to his. “You’re confusing.”
“How so?”
Liza sat upright. “Never mind.”
She pushed off the bed and walked over to the antique dresser his mother’s family had passed down from generation to generation. Liza fingered the brown-checked cloth cover that protected the wood from scuffs and then picked up one of his champion belt buckles. Cradling the massive thing, she stared at it.
“Liza?”
She set the buckle down. “My meeting with Roslin went nowhere.”
Okay, so they were moving on from a discussi
on about them. “She couldn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know?”
“Either she’s playing dumb expertly, or she really is clueless about Ripley’s motives. What bothers me is how he met her, in a bank, apparently getting a loan.”
“A ruse to get close to her? Maybe he targeted her? Knew she’d be the perfect addition to his next job?”
Liza shrugged one shoulder. “It’s the only explanation I can think of for why he’d want an in with a bank. She still worked in one after they moved here.”
“It would have given him eyes on the school’s bank accounts.”
“Which was my next thought after I talked with the few members of the school board who showed up. I want to talk to her again. I’ve set up a private conversation with Neil Lundy this evening.”
“Didn’t he give you want you wanted today?”
“Some, but I learned from Roslin that he was harassing her last night. I didn’t want to embarrass the man in front of his colleagues by demanding what he was interrogating her about. I had hoped to do it right after I finished with them, but . . . ” Liza gave him a pointed look, “I got a message from Dr. Drummond and Nic telling me about your little escapade.”
“Would you have let me go if I brought you along?”
She turned to face him, resting her elbow on the dresser top. “First off, you would have never left the house. I would have gone myself. And second, what could have been so damn important that you’d risk it?”
“Nic didn’t tell you?”
“She felt it was best that you explain yourself to me. God only knows why. And I’m not sure how to interpret whatever hidden message she was trying to give me. She was freaking me out.”
“Ignore her. She’s a trained sniper and thinks she can see it all.”
With her head propped on her fist, Liza stared at him.
“What?”
“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to threaten you?”
“You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“I’m an FBI agent, and you want to chance that I can’t pull up some sensitive information about you that you’ve done a bang-up job of keeping from everyone in this county?”
Shane’s body seized at that. It was one thing for her to piece together the ordeal with Cheyenne and his reason for enlisting, but there was no way in hell he wanted Liza digging around in his service record.
“By the look of panic on your face, you know I’m right.”
“You don’t have to make threats. I was going to tell you.” He shifted on the bed to ease the pressure on his hips. This whole bedridden deal wasn’t going to last long. He needed to sit up. “I remembered something about the person who took a shot at me.”
“This couldn’t have waited for me to come back?”
“Would you let me finish?”
She held up her hand in surrender and then beckoned for him to continue. Impatient woman.
“It was a woman, but she wore a hood of some kind to hide her face, and her voice wasn’t familiar. ’Course, with a gun pointed at me, I wasn’t paying too much attention to that detail, just how to get out of it without getting killed.”
“It was a woman. Something to go on. But I heard multiple shots.”
“I returned fire, and I winged her. I wasn’t sure, but once back there, I remembered hearing her cry out after I fired. And I guessed right—she was hurt, and I found blood on the path she took to escape.”
“Did you tell—?”
“Nic knows and so does Murdoch. I got a sample before my body gave out on me. Murdoch took the sample to Con. He’s supposed to get Drummond to test the blood.”
Liza moved back to the bed. “You do realize this means there is a woman out there who has a gunshot wound?”
“Yes, and I overheard Nic tell her husband to get on it. But I don’t see this woman going to any clinics or hospitals anywhere near here.”
“Maybe, if she’s bad off, she’ll get desperate.”
“Eider police will monitor, along with the hospital staff.” Shane’s words were slurring. Damn this fatigue.
“You need to sleep.”
“I don’t want to.” He grasped her hand. “You should sleep, too.”
“I will, after I meet with Lundy. I’ll check with Drummond on what he suggests for you, and I’ll bring back some food.”
“Be careful.”
“I’m not the one running around getting shot.” She pressed a kiss to his knuckles and placed his hand on his chest. “Sleep.”
The last thing he saw as his eyes drifted shut was her walking out of the room. He could never get enough of seeing that side of her.
Chapter Twenty-four
A woman had shot him. Liza paced the front room floor, tapping her head. If this was the same person who waltzed into the club and shot Derek Schofield, why hang around to potentially get caught? Admiring their handiwork?
Shane said the shooter told him he shouldn’t have come there. Where, the tree grove? The club?
Liza’s mind whirled. She stopped mid-stride, and, tilting her face to the ceiling, she closed her eyes and relaxed. One piece at a time. Working backward through the chain of events that had occurred in the time since she’d arrived two days ago—was it really two days ago? God, it felt like she’d been here a week or more. Her mental flip through the incidents came to a stop on what had brought her here in the first place: Gene Avery, a.k.a. Mr. Ripley.
Her eyes flew open. The way to get to the bottom of what was going on was to find whoever killed Ripley.
Liza pulled out her iPhone and made the call.
“O’Hanlon.”
“Detective, can we meet?”
“Is this meeting about our fearless sheriff?”
“In a way, but not like you think. I’m coming loaded with all the information on my guy and what I’ve learned so far with the school. Do you happen to have autopsy reports from Dr. Drummond?”
“Not yet, but I can get him to fast-track them. Autopsies on who?”
“All three men who’ve died since I arrived. I have a sinking feeling in my gut there’s something connected about all of them.”
“Gotcha. What time?”
“In the next thirty minutes okay with you?”
“Perfect. Meet me here at the police station.”
Call ended, Liza headed into the kitchen. Her stomach was pitching the biggest tantrum, and the single Pop-Tart she’d confiscated this morning was long gone. She needed food, and that reminded her she needed to get Drummond’s recommendations on food for Shane to eat.
Look at her, being all domestic and . . . attached. What was wrong with her? This was not normal. Wait, scratch that. She did have some kind of maternal instincts with Quinn, and she was beyond attached to that kid.
She lingered in the kitchen entry, staring at the closed door to Shane’s room. What had he done to her? Two kisses—two very hot and bothered kisses—and she turned into Claire Huxtable. Turning from the room, she slipped into the kitchen.
“I don’t want this,” she whispered.
Keep lying to yourself. We both know you want what Kurt had with Stephanie, and what your adoptive parents have.
She liked Shane, as a colleague, and that’s all the further it could go.
Her phone buzzed. Oops, she forgot she’d turned off the ringer. She retrieved the phone out of her pocket. A local number?
“Agent Bartholomew.”
“Agent, it’s Deputy Murdoch. I went back to Pamela Frost’s home, checking to see if she was around.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
“Since our esteemed sheriff is out of commission and Deputy Hunt still wants us deferring to you on this, I’m telling you because Pamela is home. And she doesn’t look too good.”
“What does ‘doesn’t look too good’ mean?”
“It’s hard to describe over the phone. Come out to her place and see for yourself.”
Liza checked the time. “I can’t. I have a
meeting with Detective O’Hanlon in twenty-five minutes.”
“Are you leaving the sheriff alone again?”
“No.” Shit! She needed to get someone over here to make sure he didn’t repeat his disappearing act. “I have . . . ”
“Stop. I’ll have Xavier go over. He’s on mandatory vacation, and he’s been driving me nuts because he’s bored.”
“Wasn’t he already here?”
“He won’t mind. Xavier and the sheriff have some weird thing between them ever since Hamilton threw Xavier in jail.”
Wha . . . wait? That was a story Liza was going to have to hear, later. “I’m on my way. How do I get there?” Oh God, don’t get lost.
“It’s easy. I’ll send you directions to your phone.”
Phew! Now that Siri wasn’t acting like a bitch, Liza should be able to find this place and not look like an utter failure.
“And by the way,” Murdoch said, “call Detective O’Hanlon and tell him to come out. He’s going to want to see and hear about this, too.”
What was Deputy Murdoch sitting on?
• • •
Praise God and sing halleluiah! Liza made it to the Frost home without one bad turn. Liza parked behind Deputy Murdoch’s car and was soon joined by Con’s large green truck. They were nearly a block away from the house. It was a quiet area with houses sprinkled here and there in what appeared to be an urban style development. Most of the homes looked empty—everyone was off to work, except for the Frost home, where a lone gray/silver SUV sat in the driveway.
Liza stared at the vehicle in the drive. Was it the same one that had followed her yesterday to the hospital? She needed to look at the front more closely. She exited her car to congregate at Murdoch’s squad vehicle.
“How long has she been in there?” Con asked right off.
“About an hour now. I have no idea if she spotted me when she arrived. She certainly didn’t act like she’d noticed it. But with the way she was moving, I don’t think she was paying any attention to her surroundings.”
“How was she moving?” Liza asked, her gaze narrowing on the opulent house. “Must be a nice, fat salary she enjoys as a lawyer.”
“You have no idea,” Murdoch said. “Anyway, she moved like she was drunk. She drove that way, too. But it was kinda funky, not like a normal drunk’s stagger.”
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