Dangerous Memories

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Dangerous Memories Page 19

by Intrigue Romance


  “But you don’t need to worry about proving yourself,” Levi stressed. Jo’s mouth formed a thin line. He was close enough to hear her jaw pop as the result of gnashing her molars. This is what he did. He protected people. He could protect her with the proper resources.

  “Don’t mind me, the sleepless FBI agent that saved both your hides. I’d leave, but I need to arrange what happens next.”

  Jo showed him the back of her shoulder, essentially ignoring him and his experience. “Sorry, George, but do you really think I’m in any danger?”

  “I can’t force you to—”

  “Yes, you can.” Levi leaned forward, cupping her chin to guide it to face him before he pleaded, “Take it.”

  Jo turned a frosty gaze to him. Something he hadn’t seen since the funeral. She stood with jerky movements, making certain her elbow caught him a couple of times below the ribs. She secured the blanket around her shoulders and marched barefoot to the now standing Lanning. He ignored her extended hand and pulled her close for a Texas hug, smirking over her shoulder and extending the gesture a tad longer than necessary. Levi was about to jump out of the bed when Jo broke off the embrace.

  “George, I appreciate your arrangements. But if that’s the only option, then we’re done. I’ll, of course, make myself available for whatever the FBI needs.”

  Levi looked at George then at her. Gaping at them was probably a better description. He couldn’t believe what was happening. “That’s it? You’re just going to let her walk away?”

  “I can’t force her into protective custody. You, of all people, know that.” If Lanning’s cocky smile meant anything, it was that he’d be glad to take up where Levi had left off.

  “Go back to your life, Levi,” Jo said. “You have your job back. I need some time.”

  “Jo. You can’t turn this down. We’ve been trying to get you protection for a long time.” Telling her what to do had never worked. Would never work. He silently cursed himself for not phrasing the words as a suggestion. “It’s what your dad wanted.”

  The fierce need inside his chest hung on the edge of a precipice. Levi waited for her to agree. A look of embarrassment would confirm her consent. A look of encouragement would keep them talking, trying to convince each other of their side. And then, the look he’d dreaded, the one that confirmed she was leaving, sent his heart plunging to die a slow death.

  “I know, Levi.” She paused on her way out the door, trying to hide the tears pooling in her beautiful eyes. “I just...can’t.”

  Everything about him that was a man missed her immediately. His arms missed the way she fit within their circle. The beat of his heart missed the echo of hers beneath her breasts. She’d been willing to sacrifice everything to get to this moment. The last thing between them would not be her walking away.

  * * *

  THE DAYS HAD been very long and lonely without him—not to mention the nights. She was trying to accept that the romantic part of their relationship was over. Harder still to accept their friendship was over.

  Jolene stretched, enjoying the lumpy mattress. Lumpy was so much better than being hidden in a hotel for the past two nights while she gave her statements to the FBI. Car lights momentarily brightened her small bedroom, reminding her to get darkening curtains once she got on the road.

  “To where?”

  At this point she didn’t care. Anywhere except Dallas. Any direction that didn’t require turns until she got used to driving this huge monster. Get on a highway out of town and just keep going. She could do it. She could learn. And if she couldn’t, she’d stop and take lessons. But she needed to get lost for a while, just turn whichever way wasn’t blocked with red tape and a handsome U.S. Marshal.

  She closed her eyes, attempting to fall asleep for the countless time, excited for her big start in the morning. Her heart beat so fast she thought the motor home was moving.

  “Wait.” She threw her legs over the side and fell back when the wheels bounced over a speed bump. She charged through the door, prepared to pick up a frying pan if the driver wasn’t the familiar head she expected in the driver’s seat.

  “Levi?”

  “Did I wake you? You told Lanning you wanted to get an early start.”

  “Not at two in the morning. Pull over.” The motor home was shifted into Park and he twisted in his seat to give her a sexy onceover look that had her squirming on the laminate floor. “I told George I didn’t want to see you. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “I listened.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be here. I wrote you a letter. I explained that I wanted to travel and you’re going back to your job.” Did she really want to leave him?

  “I read it.”

  “It’s better if I’m on my own for a while, to think.” To get over you.

  “Not happening.” He shook his head and stood, shrinking the space between them. She wanted to run into his arms. She always did.

  He stood straighter, appearing taller but somewhat less confident than he had a couple of days ago when she’d marched out of the hospital.

  “Maybe I should take us back.” He got behind the wheel and returned to their spot in the park. He stayed put in the driver’s seat. “There were a couple of questions we saved for later.”

  “And this is later?” The need to take him to their bedroom was overwhelming, but he was right. There were things they needed to settle, things she needed to know about what made Levi who he was.

  “You asked me why I went along with your dad and lied to you all these years. First off, Joseph asked and I respected that, but I also gave him my word. About the same time, he sort of gave me the same talk my own dad did before he died.”

  “How old were you when you lost your dad?”

  “Ten. My mom left Amarillo by the time I was two. High school sweethearts who made a mistake.” He looked at ease, like he’d come to terms with his mother’s decision a long time ago. “Both of our fathers spoke about how important it was to keep my word. That ultimately it was the only thing I had.”

  “You lived with the aunt you mentioned?”

  “Yeah. We’d been living with my aunt and uncle most of my life already. I’ve always made it a point to keep my promises, Jo.”

  “You’ve more than kept your promise to my dad.”

  “That’s not the promise I’m talking about.” He paused a long time. “I promised not to let you go.”

  There was a look about Levi she hadn’t really seen before. Something akin to petrified. He was afraid. He was really worried.

  “That was when you rescued me. Levi, I didn’t mean forever.”

  “But I did.”

  He swooped in and spun her around the small kitchen, kissing her mouth, making her want more. “So do I.”

  Epilogue

  “You’re certain you’re ready?” Levi asked Jo, slipping on his coat once they’d finalized everything with the Vegas wedding coordinator.

  “Levi, you know everything there is to know about me. We’ve lived and traveled in a motor home from one side of the country to the other over the past six weeks.” She put her hands on her hips like the spunky partner he’d had on the train just a short time ago. “I think you’d know by now when I’ve made up my mind.”

  Yeah, he knew. She’d taken a turn at the wheel of the motor home and headed them to Amarillo to pick up his aunt Catherine. She was the one who’d made hotel arrangements in Vegas and researched wedding chapels. Even arranged for him to have a best man.

  “We don’t have to do this now, today. We could wait.” Levi took her hands, searching her eyes.

  Calm. Hope. Excitement. Love. He could see the emotions waiting to be shared with him.

  “Sounds like you’re the one trying to back out,” she teased.

  “Not happening.”

  He pulled her into his arms to prove how much he wanted her in his life. Marriage was the next step, one he’d pushed for since they’d left Dallas. His only second thoughts were of how
hard he’d pushed and if this were really her decision.

  “You said you needed to think about what you wanted. You haven’t had much alone time.”

  “I love you. It’s the only thing I don’t need to think about and that isn’t going to change.” She tipped her chin, leaning into him, her eyes closing before their lips connected.

  When they were together he tried to make her forget everything else. Each kiss took him back to the beginning of their adventure. A curious kiss at an airport that had spoiled his chances of falling for anyone else.

  “Let’s get this shindig going. I hear the slots calling my name.” George, playing the part of best man, rubbed his hands together.

  “I still can’t believe you invited this guy.”

  Lanning had kept them informed on the investigation and had kept their names out of the press—as promised.

  “I wanted your aunt to be a part of things. So...” Jo slid her hands over his shoulders, smoothing his jacket. “You needed a best man if I had a best gal.”

  “I have plenty of friends who didn’t play me like a fool.” He winked at her proving he wasn’t upset. He actually appreciated George. And Jo knew that.

  “But I don’t know them. At least not until we get back to Denver.”

  It was time. Their turn. The coordinator waved them inside the doors. Levi watched the woman he loved link arms with his aunt and march to the front of the Vegas wedding chapel. Everything was set and in a few minutes, Jo would be his for life.

  “That’s one great woman you’ve got there,” George said, slapping him on the back. “Appreciate the invite.”

  “I never had the chance to thank you for loaning me your truck or setting me back up with my girl.” He handed his best man the wedding rings he’d bought without his fiancé’s knowledge.

  “Don’t mention it.” George shrugged off the thanks. No one had mentioned the help he’d given Levi during the search for Jo. Help that had contradicted the Bureau’s orders.

  “If you take your spot, George, we can get this party started,” Jo said, returning with her chapel-provided bouquet.

  George kissed her cheek and took his place next to the minister waiting with his aunt up front.

  “You’re very beautiful,” Levi told Jo, suddenly wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.

  “This is it, Marshal Cooper. Care to walk me down the aisle?”

  “It would be my pleasure, soon-to-be Mrs. Cooper.” He hooked his arm and patted her hand once it was in place. “Is that going to feel weird to you? Being Jolene Cooper?”

  “It’s the only name that’s ever felt one hundred percent right.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Cowboy Cop by Rita Herron!

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  Chapter One

  Three months later

  “Dugan is out.”

  Miles’s fingers tightened around his cell phone as he wheeled his SUV around and headed toward the station. “What?”

  His superior, Lieutenant Hammond, didn’t sound happy. “Based on the Kelly woman’s murder and some technicality with the chain of evidence when they’d searched the man’s place, Dugan’s lawyer got his conviction overturned.”

  The past few weeks of tracking down clues and false leads day and night taunted him. He released a string of expletives.

  Hammond cleared his throat. “If we’d found evidence connecting Dugan to a partner, maybe things would have gone differently, but...”

  Hammond let the sentence trail off, but Miles silently finished for him. If he and Mason had found such evidence, Dugan would still be in a cell. And the world would be a safer place.

  But they’d failed.

  The day Dugan’s verdict was read flashed back. Dugan’s threat resounded in his head—you’ll pay.

  “Now that he’s back on the streets—”

  “I know. He’s going to kill again,” Miles said. And he’s probably coming after me.

  His cell phone chirped, and he glanced at the caller ID. Marie’s number.

  Damn, she was probably on his case for working again last night and missing dinner with Timmy. He’d thought he might have found a lead on the copycat, but instead he’d only chased his own tail.

  The phone chirped again.

  You’ll pay.

  Panic suddenly seized him, cutting off his breath. Dammit...what if payback meant coming after his family?

  “I have to go, Hammond.” Sweat beaded on his neck as he connected the call. “Hello?”

  Husky breathing filled the line, then a scream pierced the receiver.

  He clenched the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. He had to clear his throat to speak. “Marie?” God, tell me you’re there....

  But the sudden silence sent a chill up his spine.

  “Marie, Timmy?”

  More breathing, this time followed by a husky laugh that sounded sinister, threatening...evil.

  Dear God, no...

  Dugan was at Marie’s house.

  He pressed the accelerator, his heart hammering as he sped around traffic and called for backup. The dispatch officer agreed to send a patrol car right away.

  A convertible nearly cut him off, and Miles slammed on his horn, nearly skimming a truck as he roared around it. Brush and shrubs sailed past, the wheels grinding on gravel as he hugged the side of the country road.

  Images of the dead women from Dugan’s crime scenes flashed in his head, and his stomach churned. No, please, no...Dugan could not be at Marie’s house. He couldn’t kill Marie...not like the other women.

  And Timmy...his son was home today with her.

  The bright Texas sun nearly blinded him as he swerved into the small neighborhood where Marie had bought a house. Christmas decorations glittered, lights twinkled from the neighboring houses, the entryways screaming with festive holiday spirit.

  Somehow they seemed macabre in the early-morning light.

  He shifted gears, brakes squealing as he rounded a curve and sped down the street. He scanned the neighboring yards, the road, the trees beyond the house, searching for Dugan.

  But everything seemed still. Quiet. A homey little neighborhood to raise a family in.

  Except he had heard that scream.

  His chest squeezed for air, and he slammed on the brakes and skidded up the drive. He threw the Jeep into Park, and held his weapon at the ready as he raced up to the front door.

  Cop instincts kicked in, and he scanned the outside of the house and yard again, but nothing looked amiss. He glanced through the front window, but the den looked normal...toys on the floor, magazines on the table, TV running with cartoons.

  Only the Christmas tree had been tipped over, ornaments scattered across the floor.

  He reached for the doorknob, and the door swung open. His breath lodged in his throat, panic knotting his insides. No sounds of holiday music or Timmy chattering.

  Gripping his weapon tighter, he inched inside, senses honed for signs of an intruder.

  Slowly, he made his way through the den to the kitchen. The Advent calendar glared at him, mocking him with a reminder that Christmas was only a few days away.

  There was a half-empty coffee cup on the counter and an overturned cereal bowl on the table. Milk dripped onto the floor.

  Timmy...God...

  Terror seized him.

&nb
sp; A creaking sound suddenly splintered the air, and he swung around, braced to shoot but he saw nothing. Then another sound came from above, water running...the shower? No, the tub...overflowing...

  He clenched his jaw, then inched toward the staircase, slowly climbing it and listening for an intruder, for Marie, for his son.

  Any sign of life.

  A quick glance into Timmy’s room and it appeared empty. Bed unmade. Toy airplane on the floor. Legos scattered. Stuffed dinosaur on his pillow.

  Where was his son?

  His hand trembled as he bypassed the room and edged toward the bedroom where Marie slept. One look inside, and his heart stopped.

  The lamp was broken on the floor. Pillows tossed on the carpet. The corner chair overturned. Glass shards from the mirror were scattered on the vanity.

  A sea of red flashed in front of him. Blood...it soaked the sheets and led a trail into the bathroom.

  His stomach revolted, but he forced himself to scan the corners of the room before slowly entering the bathroom. Blood streaked the floor and led toward the claw-foot tub.

  A groan settled deep in his gut.

  Marie. Her eyes stood wide-open in death. Blood dripped down her neck and bare chest. Her arms dangled lifelessly over the tub edge, one leg askew.

  For a moment, he choked. Couldn’t make himself move. He’d seen dozens of dead bodies before but none so personal...none that he cared about.

  Emotions crowded his throat and chest, and he gripped the wall to steady himself. He had to. Had to get control. Slide that wall back into place so he could do his job.

  Every second counted.

  Fighting nausea, he slowly walked toward her and felt for a pulse. Although he knew before he touched her that it was too late.

  Dugan had done this. Had gotten his payback by killing his son’s mother.

  That creaking sound suddenly echoed again. He froze, hand clenching his gun, then spun around.

  Nothing. Except the evidence of Dugan’s brutal crime.

  Where was Timmy?

  For a fraction of a second he closed his eyes on a prayer. The sound echoed again...

 

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