Texas Temptation

by Kathryn Brocato

  The best thing he could do for her was to walk away. If the events of today revealed anything to him, it was that a threat on Cody’s life would send him over the edge for good. Yet he doubted she’d let him walk out on her so easily. And deep inside he knew he couldn’t abandon her after she suffered this trauma.

  If anyone understood the horror she’d been through, it was him. But how did he help her heal when he hadn’t mastered his own demons?

  “LeBeau.”

  He lifted his head and met Santorini’s concerned gaze.

  “The bus is here.” He gripped Remy’s shoulder. “CSU wants you to carry her out so the medics don’t destroy the scene.”

  “All right.”

  With Cody still in his arms, and Santorini’s help, Remy climbed to his feet. Cody cried out a few times as they jostled her around.

  “I think her ankle is broken.” Santorini steadied the leg she favored.

  It would explain why she fell before Brad caught her. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his abdomen, Remy hooked his arm under her knees and braced her back with the other. Once she was settled, Cody wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. He’d never forget how she felt, soft and dependent on him.

  Santorini led the way through the maze of cops and crime scene techs, and out of the building. “I’m gonna help Anderson. If they’ll let you, go with her.” He clapped Remy’s shoulder.

  Remy rotated as the PI walked away. “Santorini.”

  He halted mid-step and turned back. “Yeah?”

  “You’re a good cop.”

  A wide grin split his face. “Thanks, LeBeau.” With a parting nod, Santorini headed into the stadium.

  “Detective?”

  Remy faced the waiting medics. “She’s in shock and might’ve broken her ankle.” He laid Cody on the gurney.

  As he moved to back away, her hand shot out and she twined her arm around his. Her eyes locked on him, and her fingers tightened around his bicep. The haunted look tore him to pieces. These wounds would scar her for life. She had entered into his sick and twisted world.

  “It’ll be okay, chère.” The words tasted like sawdust. How could it be okay for her when it had never been for him?

  “Cody!”

  Her head jerked to the side, and she released her hold on Remy. “Dad.”

  Logan shoved past the barriers, Moreno hot on his trail, and rushed to his daughter’s side. Cody burst into a fresh set of tears. Remy backed from the Lewises as they hugged. The medics buckled Cody onto the gurney and wheeled her into the ambulance, Logan right behind them.

  Remy managed one last look at her before they shut the doors. The ambulance rumbled out of the lot and sped off to the hospital.

  “She’ll never be the same,” Moreno said.

  “But she survived.” Remy turned to the stadium. “Cody managed to do what no woman did with the Rodeo Sweethearts killer. She lived. Who will take her statement?”

  “At this point, no one.” Moreno pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think we’ll get a viable statement. We wait.”

  Jolene emerged from the building and strode toward them. The smile on her face looked weak. “I think you know why I’m out here, LeBeau.”

  He sighed and reached for the Ruger. “Three shots.” He removed the clip and handed it to her. “All chest shots.”

  She bagged the clip, then took the Ruger, bagging it also. “Anderson said this was his weapon, and you were borrowing it.”

  “Yes.”

  She jotted the info on the evidence tag and taped it to the bags. “You did what you had to. I’ll get the weapons returned ASAP. It looks pretty cut and dry on my end.”

  “Thanks, Summers.”

  She flashed a grim smile and returned to the stadium.

  Moreno sighed and crossed his arms. “This is going to be a PR nightmare.”

  “You’ll handle it.” Remy sucked in a breath and shifted.

  “LeBeau, give your statement. And head to the hospital.”

  “Lieutenant — ”

  Moreno held up his hands. “For once, don’t argue. Just do it.”

  For the first time since making detective, Remy was satisfied letting someone else handle the case. “All right. Anderson’s got it pretty well under control.” He turned to find the major crimes detective working the scene, hesitated and faced the lieutenant. “I don’t get one thing.”

  “What?”

  “If Brad was a copycat, then who was the real Rodeo Sweethearts killer?”

  “The real killer will probably go to his grave with that secret.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Cody winced at the beep and the whir and the scent of disinfectant. Telltale signs of a hospital. She’d spent too much time in places like this. And here she was again. At least it was just for tonight. Not that it would help her get any sleep.

  She ran her tongue over her dry lips. A glass of ice water would be nice right about …

  “Thirsty?”

  Her eyes snapped open, and her gaze darted to the left. Remy held up a cup with a straw. Seeing him there, her mind flashed back to the shooting.

  “Don’t go there, Cody.” His voice was raw with emotion.

  “I can’t help it.”

  He passed her the cup. “In the next few days you’ll spend more time there than you want. For now, leave it alone.”

  She averted her gaze and sucked down the water. Once she felt she’d hydrated her mouth, she leaned over to put the cup on the table next to the bed. Remy took it from her and set it down.

  “What did they say about your ankle?”

  She looked at the thick wrap. “Severely sprained. All the walking and running made it worse.” It meant no National Finals Rodeo for her. She had yet to tell anyone of her decision. It hurt worse than any physical injury. Her throat constricted, and she tried to swallow against it. She was thwarted from finishing what Momma started. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. No. She wouldn’t dwell on it. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Paperwork or something like that.” Remy stared at his hands clasped between his knees.

  Dark shadows rimmed his eyes, his clothing wrinkled and dirty, he appeared to have walked through a combat zone. Blame and regret seemed to roll off his body in waves.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said softly.

  His head snapped up. “How is it not? If I’d insisted on protective custody, or I stayed away from you, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “If we’d done all that, and Brad still got to me, what would you think then?”

  He bolted from the chair and paced to the window. Arms crossed and his back ridged, he stared outside.

  Through her hysterics at the stadium, she remembered how tender and protective he’d been with her. When he placed her on the gurney he seemed reluctant to release her. Now that the case was solved and the serial killer stopped permanently, would Remy walk away?

  Her heart throbbed. He couldn’t.

  “Cody.” The way her name slid off his tongue made her shiver. He faced her, his arms falling to his sides, and stared a moment.

  She felt her eyelids getting heavy. Blasted sedative was kicking in again.

  “You’re tired. I’ll let you sleep.”

  “No.”

  Crossing the room, he bent over the bed, his nose inches from hers. “Rest. We’ll talk later.” He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead.

  Cody closed her eyes as he lingered, soaking in the feel of his lips against her skin and his scent. When he drew back, she opened her eyes.

  “One day you’ll finish a conversation you start without having an excuse to run off.”

  A wry smile played with his mouth. “Today’s not that day.” He pushed off the be
d and headed to the door. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder. Something passed through his eyes then he left.

  Cody bit her lip and faced the wall. The tears squeezed past her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. Why did it feel like he was trying to say good-bye?

  • • •

  “You need to get some sleep.”

  Tearing his attention from the rain-streaked windshield, Remy glanced at his partner. “I’ll be fine for a few more hours.”

  The wiper blades swished across the glass as Anderson drummed the steering wheel in beat. “Yeah, Moreno figured you’d say that. He’s officially putting you on medical leave. I’m taking you back to my place.”

  Remy eyed his partner. “If I’m being forced to sit this out, I want to go to my home.”

  A crooked grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, not gonna happen. Iron Man knew you’d just sneak back to the department. If you’re at my place, you’re stuck there.”

  “And where do you plan on going?”

  “Wrapping up a few things.” Anderson flipped on the blinker at a stoplight. “And don’t bother calling a taxi, unless you wanna pay out the nose.” The light went green, and he turned left and crept along the street leading to his home. “It’s over, partner. Get some sleep.”

  “Doesn’t matter what I say?”

  “Not really.” Anderson pulled into his drive, parked, and faced Remy. “Make yourself at home. There’s plenty to drink and eat. You’re probably as starved as I am, since we didn’t really stop to eat anything today.”

  “Probably,” Remy muttered, staring at the house.

  The place was unsecured, and his back-up gun was locked away in his condo. But what was there to worry about? Until this case, no one could connect him with Anderson. It should be fine. Remy scanned the neighborhood. Anderson probably had nosy neighbors, and they’d alert the police of any suspicious activity.

  “Do I have to kick you out?”

  He shook his head and exited the car. He bent over and peered at Anderson. “Keys?”

  “Oh.” He dug them out of his pocket and tossed them at Remy. “I’ll be back in an hour. Leave the door locked.”

  Remy saluted and jogged up the drive. On the stoop, he unlocked the door, and waved off Anderson. He watched his partner back out onto the wet street and drive away, then entered the house.

  The stale scent of their morning coffee lingered in the air. His mouth watered for a cup. Hopefully Anderson had some decaf in the house. Remy didn’t need to get wired this late. He fumbled for the light switch. It should be right there.

  Blast the unfamiliar layout. Forget it. Light from the street lamps filtered through the gaps in the curtains. It was enough to get him to the kitchen.

  He cautiously tread to the right. The whisper of fabric behind him brought him to a halt. He started to turn, then pain exploded in his head.

  His knees buckled, and he crashed to the floor. Black spots blossomed on his sight. Another explosion of pain on his back laid him flat, and he sank into the inky pit.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Carlos lifted his head at the knock and waved his friend in. “Come in, Luc.”

  “You did a good job with the press. And the mayor seems happy.”

  “Sure.” Carlos removed his reading glasses and tossed them on his desk as he rocked back in his chair. “When you planning on heading home?”

  Luc sank into the lone chair in the room. “Tomorrow. The team is ready for vacation time. Christmas makes for a good excuse.”

  “I bet. Think you could get your madre to send me some of her cannolis down here?”

  “Could try.” Luc tapped his chin. “What’s eating at you?”

  “I just get this sense that we missed something vital.” Carlos sat forward, his chair squeaking. “Do you still believe Susan was involved?”

  “We went through the house top to bottom. Other than the copies found in Brad’s room, there’s nothing much there to pin on her.”

  “Huh.” Closing his eyes, Carlos tilted the chair as far back as it would go. “Maybe it’s the ulcer this case brought on.”

  “Maybe,” Luc said. “How’s LeBeau doing?”

  “Had Anderson take him home after he paid a visit to Ms. Lewis.” Carlos swiveled the chair back and forth. “I’ve put LeBeau on medical leave until IA and major cases closes the file on the shooting. He loves her, doesn’t he?”

  “Who, LeBeau?”

  “No, the pope.”

  Luc grinned. “Yeah, he loves her. But that stubborn Cajun won’t admit it. Not to himself or to her.”

  Carlos leaned forward. “What makes you say that?”

  A door clapped shut out in the bullpen. Carlos’s gaze jerked from Luc, and he craned his neck to look out of the office. Anderson strode into view.

  “What are you doing here?” Carlos barked.

  Anderson changed course and entered the office. “Should be asking you two the same thing.” He propped an elbow on the door frame. “I wanted to log out on the RS killer file.”

  “It can keep until tomorrow. Where’s LeBeau?”

  “At my place. Hopefully sleeping.”

  Carlos’s phone rang. “DPD homicide, Lieutenant Moreno.”

  “Lieutenant, CSU Summers. I have a match to the partial from the first murder scene. And you won’t believe this, it belongs to the woman you were questioning today. A Susan Hawthorne.”

  “Hold on, Santorini and Anderson are here. Let me put you on speaker.” He punched the button and set the receiver on the cradle. “Okay, Summers, tell them what you told me.”

  “All right. Mr. Santorini, I ran that print you asked me to. It’s a match.”

  “What print?” Anderson asked.

  “Luc, you want to explain?” Carlos asked.

  “After we cut Susan loose this afternoon, I had the cup she was drinking out of taken down to Ms. Summers’ lab. I ran on a hunch to see if the partial lifted from the Trisk scene matched Susan’s.”

  “It was a good hunch. I can’t get a better match than what I’ve got. Lieutenant Moreno, she was there the night Heather Trisk’s body was dumped in the trailer.”

  The call waiting beeped.

  “Summers, I’ve got another call coming in. Are we done?”

  “Sure, Lieutenant.”

  “Good work, Summers.”

  “Thanks.”

  Carlos punched a button, grabbing up the receiver. “DPD homicide, Lieutenant Moreno speaking.”

  “Lieutenant Moreno, this is Cody Lewis.”

  “Ms. Lewis, aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

  “It can wait. I just remembered something I forgot to tell Remy. There was a woman who helped Brad take me from the cemetery to the stadium. She got mad at me when I knocked her down. Slapped me up pretty good.” She drew in a breath.

  “Take your time. Ms. Lewis.”

  A husky rumble came over the connection, like she’d chuckled. “Time’s the issue, Lieutenant.” She sighed again. “I overheard them talking at the stadium. Brad called her Mom.”

  Carlos’s hand jerked up to silence Luc and Anderson. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. She threatened to kill Remy. Before I escaped I heard Brad tell his mom something about if he didn’t make it to do something. They were walking away, so I didn’t hear it all.”

  His gaze clashed with Luc’s. “And if we brought you in for a line up, you’d be able to pick her out?”

  “I know exactly what she looks like.”

  “Okay, thanks. Ms. Lewis, I’ll be in touch.” The warmth leached from his face as he set the receiver down. “Cody Lewis just told me that a woman helped Brad transport her from the cemetery to the stadium. She got a real good look at her, and took a few slaps from the woman, to
o.”

  “Did she know her?” Anderson asked.

  “No, but she heard Brad call her mom.”

  “Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus.” Luc stood. “Susan just nailed her coffin. Get on the horn and get a warrant for her arrest.”

  Carlos held up his hand. “That’s not all. She threatened to kill Remy. Before Cody escaped she overheard Brad tell his mom to do something if he didn’t make it. They were walking away, so she said she didn’t hear what it was exact — ”

  Anderson swore. “My house. She probably went after LeBeau.”

  Carlos grabbed up the phone. “I’ll have SWAT meet you there. You two go!”

  • • •

  The sting across his face jolted Remy conscious.

  “Wake up,” a woman snarled.

  As he blinked, pain — sharp and consuming — radiated from his neck and shoulders to the rest of his body. It stole his breath. He shifted and discovered his arms were cuffed behind his back. He was lying on the hardwood floor on his left side, staring at a pair of hiking boots and jean-clad legs.

  “Finally.”

  His gaze traveled up. Susan Hawthorne towered over him, a long-bladed knife gripped in her right fist. Cruel satisfaction masked her face. Bitterness reflecting in her eyes.

  “Didn’t expect to see me, did you, Detective?” She spit out the last word.

  Remy fought back the grimace and pulled out his neutral face. “Actually, you caught me a bit off guard.” And he’d pay for it later. Why didn’t he insist on going to his condo?

  She sniffed and planted her fists on her hips. “Still arrogant.” She crouched down to his level. “I’m about to knock you off the pedestal.”

  Cold dread surged through him. “You were the caller.”

  One eyebrow rose. “I warned Brad not to underestimate you. And look where it got him.” She stood and wandered a few steps away. “I provided for him, protected him.” She spun to face Remy. “And how does the little bastard repay me? He gets himself killed. After everything I did.”

  “Did you kill Holly Cantrell?”

  Susan snorted. “Stupid twit.”