“Bullshit!” Lainey exclaimed. “I was only attempting to have a conversation with you.”
For the first time since he’d entered the bar, Colt took a good look at the woman seated on the barstool. This one was a far cry from the woman he’d had lunch with the day before. Her hair was pulled back with only little ringlets of curls on her cheeks that bounced every time her head moved. The dress was tight enough to show every curve in her body, and dammit, she had a lot of them! But the legs were what stopped him cold. Where in the hell had she been hiding those?
Lainey pulled at the hem of the blue dress when she noticed him staring. A hint of mischief flashed in her eyes before they turned defiant. “I was on the way to my room, and I decided to stop by for a drink before I crashed.”
“Dressed like that?” Colt’s eyes hardened, wondering if the innocent persona Lainey had displayed earlier was merely a disguise for a darker side. Maybe looks weren’t the only thing she had in common with her older sister.
Her cheeks colored, and she jerked at her dress, trying unsuccessfully to cover a little more of her thighs. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Nothing, honey. I always say if you got it, flaunt it.”
Both Lainey and Colt turned to Porter. “Nobody was talking to you. Sit there and shut up until I’m ready for you.”
The oilman’s smile faded as fast as it had materialized.
Colt turned back to Lainey, his eyebrow raised in question. “Well?” He watched as she took a deep breath, unable to look away from the swell of her chest when she inhaled.
“I wanted to talk to Mr. Porter to see if he knew anything about Tessa’s death.”
“So now it’s Mr. Porter? A few minutes ago, it was Quinton.”
Colt shot him another shut-the-hell-up look, and without a word, Porter lifted his half-empty drink and chugged it, before signaling the bartender. “Scotch rocks this time, Mac, and make it a double.”
Colt was ready to pull Lainey out of the bar and make her tell him everything, but he hadn’t come for that. He’d labeled Porter a person of interest ever since Jerry mentioned he had been making a play for the vineyard before Tessa’s death.
During his four-hour interrogation of Tessa’s ex, he’d discovered Porter was in town until the following morning, and he’d stopped by the bar to ask him a few questions. He hoped the man might be able to shed some light on the investigation, but the minute he’d walked through the door and had his first look at the Houston man, he knew he was on to something.
He’d get to him in a minute, but first, he had to deal with his ex-sister-in-law. “Lainey, how did you find out about Porter?”
“Tessa.” Lainey blurted then covered her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that. I meant Carrie Phillips. I stopped by the winery today, and she mentioned Porter was in town to talk to Jerry about buying Spirits of Texas. Since I’m now half owner, I thought I’d just have a talk with him over a drink.”
Colt squinted. “And you needed a dress like that to loosen him up?” What the hell was the matter with him? He was acting like a jealous boyfriend. Without waiting for her response, he turned back to Porter. “Did you and Jerry make a deal this morning?”
The oilman’s lips tipped in a smile, as if the liquor had suddenly grown him a set of balls. “Frankly, Sheriff, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
Colt leaned in, lips pursed.
Porter’s smile faded. “I never got the chance to talk to Moretti. Seems he was tied up with you all morning, and he wasn’t available the rest of the day.”
Something about this man grated on Colt’s last nerve. He studied his face, searching for any telltale sign of guilt or anything that indicated he was lying. Porter was rich and arrogant, but did he have it in him to commit a murder?
“What were you doing at the Shady City Motel with Jerry’s wife?”
Lainey gasped. “That was him?”
Porter’s face turned ashen, and he gulped the rest of his drink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His confidence seemed to build back up with each sip of the double shot of scotch.
“Really? Then maybe you can explain why I have an eight by ten that says you’re a liar.”
Porter drew a sharp breath. “Who took the picture?”
“You tell me. Was Tessa blackmailing you?”
“Tessa? What did she have to do with it?”
“Probably nothing.” Colt tapped his fingers on the bar, determined to get answers. “Anybody squeezing you for cash lately?”
“Why the hell would I give anybody money because I banged a hot-looking broad who, by the way, was a willing participant?”
“Did you kill my sister?” Lainey reached over and grabbed his sleeve.
Porter jerked it away. “Now wait a minute, missy. I had sex with a married woman. That’s not a crime in my book. No one said anything about murder.”
Colt slid between the stools, his back to Lainey. The last thing he needed was for the oilman to take a drunken swing at her. By his count, the guy was on his second double, and who knew how many he’d had before Colt arrived. “Answer her question, Porter. Where were you the night Tessa Moretti was killed?”
“Jesus! You, too?” He wiped his brow. “I had no cause to kill that woman. I was about to get what I wanted with or without her.”
“And just how were you going to do that, may I ask?” Lainey’s voice dripped with anger.
Colt felt her lean forward, felt the faint brush of her breasts against his back as she grabbed his shoulder and moved her body to the left, probably to glare at Porter. He bit his lip and inched forward slightly to keep from reacting to the message his brain was sending south of his belt buckle.
For the first time, the man’s face flashed a hint of fear. “Look, Sheriff, you’re talking to the wrong guy. I had nothing to do with that woman’s death.”
Lainey leaned closer, and Colt stifled a gasp as her body pressed hard into his back. “How were you going to steal her company without her knowing it?” she asked.
Unable to take any more of Lainey’s torture without embarrassing himself, Colt backed out from the space between them. He missed having a gorgeous woman, or any woman for that matter, stirring up those kinds of feelings in him. Since his divorce from Tessa, he’d thrown himself into his work and taking care of Gracie. An occasional dinner date had sometimes ended in bed but not often enough. The way his body reacted to this woman both surprised and terrified him. He took another step away from her, but he could still smell the flowery perfume she was wearing.
“The lady asked you a question, Porter. I’d like to know the answer myself. How could you buy Spirits of Texas without Tessa’s consent?”
The Houston man sniffed, raising his hand for another drink before meeting Colt’s eyes. “Roxy and I were working on it. She was wearing her husband down, and I was checking out other angles.”
“Like what?”
The cowboy lowered his voice. “Nothing illegal. I was talking kickbacks to some of her clients if they changed suppliers. I figured if the cash flow petered out, she might be receptive to a deal that would keep her rich for the rest of her life.”
“You scumbag!” Lainey shouted. “No wonder my sister hates you so much.”
Colt swiveled to face her. “I thought you said you hadn’t spoken to Tessa in years.”
Lainey’s eyes widened as she drew a sharp breath. “Carrie told me.”
Colt turned his attention back to Porter. “Okay, let me get this straight. You were working a deal with Roxy Moretti to buy the winery, and no one was blackmailing you. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Porter admitted. “I had no idea someone was watching us. I don’t think Roxy knew, either.”
“And you’re sure you were in Houston Tuesday night? Before you answer, let me warn you. That’s easy enough to check out.”
“I was in Houston curled up in bed when Moretti’s ex bit the bullet. My lovely wife will vo
uch for that.”
“Don’t be so sure of that, asshole. When she finds out about your little tryst with a porn star, no telling what she’ll say. Then we’ll see what kind of bullet you’ll be biting.” Lainey’s nostrils flared with fury.
Colt grabbed Lainey’s arm and gently eased her off the stool. “We’re done here. I’ll walk you to your room.” As he shoved her toward the door, he glanced back over his shoulder at Porter. “Let my office know when you come back into town. I may need you to stop by the station for a few more questions.”
Silently, he guided Lainey out the door toward the elevator. Only after he punched the up button did he turn and face her. “What floor?”
“Sixteen.” She stared straight ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes.
Alone in the elevator, he finally let go of her arm. “So, are you going to tell me what the hell you were doing here tonight?”
She glanced up, her eyes challenging. “I already did. I wanted a night cap, remember?”
“Cut the crap, Lainey. You’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I can spot a lie a mile away. Need I remind you about the Carolyn Winters fiasco?”
She lowered her gaze, the bravado dissipating. “I only wanted to talk to him to see if he knew anything. I had no idea he and Roxy were in cahoots behind Tessa’s back.” Just then the elevator stopped, and she faced him. “Do you think he killed her, Colt?”
Giving a civilian details about an ongoing investigation broke every rule in a cop’s manual, but the pain in her eyes got to him. He softened. “My gut says no, but I’ll pull up his cell phone records to see who’s been talking to him lately.”
That seemed to satisfy Lainey, and she turned and exited the elevator. He followed her down the hall in silence. When she stopped at her room, she looked up at him, her eyes questioning.
For a split second, he thought she was going to invite him in. Mentally, he scolded himself for hoping she did. “I’ll leave after you’re safely inside.” He couldn’t resist adding, “You seem to have a penchant for getting into trouble.”
She inserted the keycard and opened the door. As they walked in, his eyes caught a glimpse of something on the floor inside the door.
Hesitantly, Lainey bent down to retrieve it. When she tried to speak, her voice wavered, “Colt?”
Her eyes met his as she held the folded paper in her hands. “Open it,” he said, a bad feeling coursing through his body.
The color drained from her face as she read. Without a word, she handed it to him. He met her eyes and saw the fear before he glanced down at the paper. A wave of icy panic gripped his body as he stared at the four words cut from a magazine and pasted on the single sheet of hotel stationery. Four words that tore at his gut, slicing him open with the cold reality that there was still a killer loose in Vineyard. He reread the note.
GO HOME OR DIE.
He stepped toward Lainey and shoved her behind him. “Stay here,” he commanded, drawing his gun, acutely aware of her trembling body pressed tightly into his back. Without a sound, he pulled away and searched the room to make sure whoever had left the note was not lurking, waiting to attack. Confident they were alone, he holstered his weapon.
“No one’s here now. Probably never was.” He glanced around the room a final time.
“Why would someone want me out of town, Colt?” Lainey’s voice was barely a whisper between gasps of air, as she stood rooted to the same spot he’d left her.
In one swift move, he was beside her, his arms encircling her, pressing her close to stop her shaking. Like a mother comforting a child, he stroked her silky hair, still piled high on her head. “My guess is you’ve gotten a little too close for comfort with your questions,” he whispered, hating that his reaction to her body molded into his was the same as in the bar.
She stayed that way until he felt her breathing slow. Finally, she inhaled then pulled away. “I made a promise to help bring Tessa’s killer to justice. It’s going to take a lot more than a single sheet of paper to scare me off.”
His fingers lingered on her forearm for a few more seconds before he let them drop. He tried to decide if she was really unafraid or just trying to convince him of it. “I’ll find out who did this, Lainey. I promise.”
He had no idea how he would do that, but he vowed to find a way. With the exception of a murder-suicide last winter involving an elderly couple and a death pact, Vineyard’s usual crimes consisted of shoplifting and petty theft and every once in a blue moon, someone pounding on their wife. For the first time since he’d joined the police force eight years ago, Colt felt out of his league.
“I’ll have the hotel manager pull up the security tapes. Maybe we’ll get lucky and recognize someone.”
“It couldn’t have been Porter,” Lainey said, finally showing a trace of the attitude he’d seen earlier when she’d confronted the Houston man. “He was in the bar the entire time.”
“Don’t rule him out yet. He could have paid the bellman to deliver the note.” Colt picked up a discarded blouse from the floor, probably thrown there when she dressed to meet Porter. “You can’t stay here tonight,” he said, handing her the rumpled shirt.
Panic flashed in her eyes momentarily before she recovered. “I’ll be fine. The door has a dead bolt.”
“No,” he said much too quickly. “Whoever sent you this warning probably intended only to scare you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to gamble with your life to find out.” He glanced at his watch. It was after midnight. Thank God, Gracie was at his mom’s.
He pulled out his cell phone. “Start packing and I’ll call one of your sisters to let them know you’re on the way.”
“No.”
He turned to face her. “No?”
“Maddy moved to a two bedroom condo after Robbie was killed in Afghanistan. There’s barely enough room for her and Jessie as it is.” She pulled her suitcase from the closet and plunked it on the bed. “Kate lives with two other residents. No way I can go there. I’ll call the Hilton down the road.”
“That wouldn’t solve anything. You’d still be by yourself. What about Deena?”
Lainey opened her mouth to respond then quickly closed it.
“What? Deena has a four-bedroom house. Surely, one of those is not in use.”
Lainey narrowed her dark eyes. “A long time ago, I told Deena I saw Mike with another woman at Billy Bob’s. When she confronted him, he made up some bullshit excuse, and she believed him.” Lainey paused. “I don’t blame her. They’d only been married a little over a year. I should never have told her. Anyway, Mike hasn’t spoken to me since.” She shook her head. “It has to be the Hilton.”
Colt drew a breath. “You can stay in the guest quarters at the ranch. It’s close to the main house, and the dogs guard the perimeter like they own it. You’ll be safe there.”
Lainey’s eyes widened. “I can’t do that, Colt. Really, I’ll be fine at the Hilton.”
“It’ll only be for a few days.” He rose from the chair. “It will give Gracie a chance to get to know her long-lost aunt.”
Nice touch, he thought, mentally patting himself on the back. He couldn’t resist adding, “Besides, it’s obvious I need to keep my eye on you in case you decide to do any more of your Nancy Drew impressions.”
“Ha!” she exclaimed, throwing a stack of blouses into the suitcase. Suddenly she froze when there was a loud knock at the door, a gasp escaping her lips.
Colt’s eyes met hers, and he put his finger to his lips to silence her. For the second time, he reached for his gun. “Who’s there?” he asked, inching toward the door.
When there was no answer, he waved his arm signaling Lainey to go into the bathroom. Cautiously, he opened the door, but no one was there. “Hello,” he yelled down the hall.
Nothing.
“Police! Come out slowly, hands in the air.” He was about to head down the hall to investigate when a man appeared from around the corner by the elevator.
“Can’t find my r
oom.” The words were slurred. “Could have sworn it was on this floor.”
Just then, the elevator stopped and the man disappeared. Colt stood in the hall, debating whether to go after the guy and question him further. Unwilling to leave Lainey alone, he walked back into the room and shut the door “You can come out now, Lainey. It was just a drunk from the bar who can’t find his room.”
Even as he said it, he couldn’t stop the feeling that it might be more than that. He punched in a number on his phone and waited. Lainey emerged from the bathroom, her face still ashen. He related the details to a sleepy Flanagan and instructed him to call Rogers and get down to the Conquistador ASAP.
“I’m through arguing, Colt. Let’s get out of here.”
_____
The moment the elevator door closed, the man blew out a sigh of relief. That was a close one. He wasn’t getting paid to go head to head with the law. No sir! The two grand in his pocket only covered scaring the TV bitch back to wherever the hell she came from.
Too bad that’s all he was supposed to do. He’d watched her all night in the dress that barely covered her ass. He would have loved a couple of hours with those legs wrapped around his neck.
He had no idea why they wanted her gone, but who was he to ask questions? He was only getting paid to put the note under her door, wait for her to return, then knock once to scare the shit out of her. The money didn’t cover a hayseed sheriff with a big-ass gun. He’d reached for his own automatic when the guy surprised him, then smartly reverted to the old, I-can’t-find-my-room bullshit.
When the elevator stopped in the lobby, he exited toward the bar, shrugging uncomfortably in the suit. He hated suits, never wore them, but tonight he needed to blend in with the other businessmen in the bar. He’d eyeball Porter one last time so he could include it in his report, then he’d head to Dallas and pick up a quick blow job on Harry Hines Boulevard before driving back to Waco. He patted his wallet, fatter with the extra grand they’d given him for keeping tabs on the oilman who was now so drunk he was having trouble staying upright on the barstool.
They wouldn’t be happy when they heard that. The quick and easy job he’d signed on for now involved the local pigs and a drunken cowboy. In his vast experience, that always spelled complications. He reached into his pocket for the phone and flipped open the receiver, his eyes trained on Porter, who was now proclaiming his intentions to kick the sheriff’s ass loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.
Heard it Through the Grapevine Page 9