He hadn’t made it to the last step when he saw something white stuck in the mud from the heavy downpour. Bending over the item, he looked closer. Taking out his phone, he used the flashlight to shine on what he realized was a cigarette butt. What the hell? Could Donny have been here smoking? Cull had never known the man to wander up to the houses.
Standing, he took a quick glance around the property, not that he expected to see anyone. Obviously, the butt had been there for a while. Anger splashed through his bloodstream as he put the pieces together. Someone was here, someone who didn’t belong. Had they been watching Monica? Was it the same person who tried to kill her? All indications pointed to yes.
How did they get on the property without being seen?
How did the bastard get in?
Retracing his steps back into the apartment, he sat on the chair and readied himself to sleep in the too narrow chair all night so he could watch over her. After an hour and he still couldn’t sleep, he stood and moved to her. Without waking her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, carefully placing her in the middle of the bed. She mumbled something that he couldn’t understand.
He climbed in beside her and brought the cover over them and tucked his arm over her waist possessively.
“I was sleeping on the couch so you could have your bed,” she said in a sleepy voice.
“There wasn’t enough room on the couch for the both of us.”
He could feel the quick rhythm of her breathing. Would she send him to the couch? She brought her arm out from under the cover and grabbed his hand, pulling his arm tighter around her. And if that wasn’t enough, she snuggled her bottom in the curve of his hips, driving him further down that crazy road. He truly hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d only wanted to keep her close to protect her, but he wasn’t naïve or stupid.
Laying his head on the pillow next to hers, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her hair. He couldn’t stop himself and nuzzled his chin along her neck, kissing the slender curve, enjoying the feel of their bodies lying so close. They fit so perfectly.
“I’m sorry you’re in this predicament, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“The silver lining is that I would have never met you otherwise.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Are you into call girls?”
There was a teasing lilt to her tone, so he knew she meant it lightheartedly. “When they look like you, and are you, yes, I am.”
No doubt, he could make love to her and forget the barriers between them. He could allow his hand to move over her, squeeze her breasts and unwrap her like an early Christmas present. Already he was fully hard, his body aching for release, but more than that, he wanted to offer her pleasure. He’d never much thought about giving a woman the ultimate pleasure until he met her.
Did she understand that she drove him crazy? Struck up every nerve ending and made his libido sing. He kissed her warm skin—skin that smelled so much like heaven.
She rolled over, facing him.
That heavy chemistry became thick and abrasive. She brushed her mouth over his and that was all he needed to understand that he didn’t care about her past.
He lowered his hand to the indent of her waist, making figure eights on her exposed skin with his thumb. Kissing her forehead, he wove his fingers through her hair “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re safe with me. Whatever has happened in the past we’ll get through this. I promise.” His voice was strained and hollowed.
“I wish I had half your hope.”
They entwined their fingers, holding hands. Something so simple and yet meant for lovers. She kissed his cheek.
“I want more. I truly do, but I also need to keep my head on straight. I’m useless if I can’t catch the fucker who wanted you dead.” He slid his hand down her bottom, lifting her thigh so he could move his hips between her vee. Lust and frustration mingled like a torturous cocktail.
She pressed against his zipper. “Why didn’t you take your jeans off?”
“Because we need this barrier.”
She laughed lightly. “I don’t think the Berlin Wall would have been a big enough barrier.”
“You must know how much I want you,” he said on an exhale of breath.
“But I know that we can’t.” She pulled her leg away but didn’t move more than an inch. “It wouldn’t be fair for us to sleep together not knowing if I have played a role in hurting someone. We’d only be making a tough situation tougher.”
He took ahold of her chin gently. “Whether you know it or not, you have just given me a challenge. I’ll prove your innocence.” When she lowered her gaze, he said, “Look at me. Trust in me.”
“I want you to trust me too, Cull. You can’t give yourself to someone you don’t really know.”
“Roll over,” he said tightly.
Without asking why, she did as he requested and he dragged her into the spoon of his thighs. “There, less chance of either of us ignoring consequences and doing what our bodies crave.” He did his best to sound certain but inside he quavered like a leaf in a windstorm. “Relax, darling. Sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“If you want me to sleep, then you need to quit poking me.” She gave her bottom a wiggle against the bulge in his jeans.
“Stop that, sweetheart. Give this ol’ body of mine a break.” He laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I got to get out of these clothes. They’re going to cut off my circulation.” He quickly removed his clothing and came back to drag her close.
Soon, he felt his body relax and sleep overtook him, but it didn’t last long.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been snoozing when he felt the bed wiggle and Monica say, “Wake up! Wake up, Cull!”
Reacting as any lawman probably would, he jumped up, grabbed his gun from the nightstand, then asked, “What is it? Is someone in the apartment?”
“No. I have to tell you something.”
He switched on the light, seeing her worried eyes and how she worked her bottom lip. “What is it?”
“I think I have my memory back.”
****
Monica cuddled in the corner of the couch and tightened the blanket around her shoulders. Cull paced the floor and she watched him. He was wearing only a pair of jeans and they were left unbuttoned. He looked amazing, and concerned.
When he stopped to stand in front of her, he sighed. “Now, tell me again who you think you are.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what my name is but I’m not Monica Warren.” He tore a hand through his hair. She wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t jumping for joy. “I know you probably don’t believe me, and although I can’t remember my name and there are still some voids, but I know without a doubt that I’m not Monica.”
“Okay.” He took a seat on the edge of the couch, clasped his hands and she could see his mind working through the windows of his eyes. “Help me understand. You’re not Monica Warren. So then, what were you doing in her apartment?”
She pulled at a thread on the blanket. “I had her purse and I took it to her. Why I had it I’m not sure, but I remember going into her apartment. Then I heard a noise. Someone was there with me.”
“Who?” He lifted a thick brow.
Giving her shoulder a tight shrug, she sighed. “I-I don’t know.”
“You said you have your memory back, Mon—” he stopped as if he wasn’t sure what to call her. “Is there more? Do you have a home address so that I can verify?”
Knowing this would make it even less believable, she couldn’t stop now. “I don’t have an address. I’m sure that I was living on the streets.”
He blew out a long breath and he crossed his arms. “Homeless?”
She pushed off the blanket and scooted to the edge of the cushion to be closer to him. She touched his hand and his fingers clenched. “I know it sounds crazy, but I know it’s the truth.”
His gaze roved over her face, then came to meet her eyes. “How
do you know it’s the truth?”
What could she say? She didn’t have proof. Unless…
“Think about the bag I had on me when you saved me. Would the real Monica wear any of those things? They were tattered and dirty.” Her stomach turned. She could very easily be going from one terrible situation to another.
“I had thought about that myself, but…”
“But what? I realize you need proof because you’re a lawman, but I’m telling you what I know to be the truth.”
He rubbed his forehead as if he was getting a headache. “I want to believe you, I do, but…”
“Oh my gosh. Another but!” She jumped up from the couch. “A few hours ago, all you talked about was proving my innocence and now that I’m supplying you with the details you act like I’m asking you to jump off a cliff. What is it with you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really want me to be innocent or was that just talk?”
“Monica—”
“Don’t call me that.” She tilted her chin.
He stood. “No, it wasn’t just talk. I want to prove your innocence, but none of it makes sense. You were in the apartment. You told me yourself at the hospital that your name was Monica. Why would you say that if it wasn’t true?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be the first to admit that a lot of the puzzle pieces are missing.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“I’m telling you what I know. I’m sorry that it doesn’t fit into a box with a neat red ribbon. I’m sorry that I still don’t know my name, but there are a lot of memories that haven’t come back yet. I’m sure it will in time. I was hoping you’d feel good about this too.”
He took a step toward her, but she pulled away.
“Come on.”
“No, I won’t come on. The one person who I thought had my back doesn’t at all. You think I’m a woman who prostituted and killed a man.” She grabbed the blanket and charged for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
She was for once glad that he didn’t try to speak to her.
Chapter 19
THE SOUND OF his phone vibrating woke Cull. He jumped up from the too small couch, feeling aches all over his body as he reached for the intrusion. “Yeah...Okay…I’ll be there in an hour.” He hung up with Deke and darted a glance toward the closed door to the bedroom. Monica was really mad at him. Could he blame her? He’d basically told her what she feared. That he believed she was a dangerous woman, but that wasn’t true. He’d only been caught off guard. This was all a confusing mess.
Dialing another number, Kiersten’s voicemail picked up. “Hey, I have to go into Cheyenne. Keep an eye on Monica for me.” He clicked off and dropped the phone into his pocket. Thankfully he had a clean shirt and boots in his truck. If he dared walk into the bedroom, he was certain she would shove his size thirteens up his ass.
He certainly wasn’t in a good mood when he walked into the precinct later that morning.
“What the fuck is that sour look about?” Deke waved at Cull from down the wide hallway.
“Don’t ask,” he growled. He gave his buddy a once over. “You look like shit. Did you have the flu?”
“Hell yeah. It kicked my butt. I’ve got news for you.” The detective stepped into his office and pointed at the chair in front of the desk. “Take a load off, my friend.”
Even though he didn’t feel like sitting because he had restless energy, he dropped into the chair anyway. “You said you needed to see me.”
Deke dropped a folder on the desk in front of Cull. “Take a look.”
Reluctantly, he opened the folder. “Who’s the dead girl?”
“You’re looking at Monica Warren. She was found in some brush by a jogger early this morning. We used her prints to identify her.”
Swallowing hard, Cull leaned back into the cushion of the vinyl, trying to keep a straight face, which wasn’t the easiest for many reasons. “Are you sure it’s her?”
“Yeah, we’re sure. She was positively identified, and you’ll never believe how she was killed.” He steepled his fingers and looked at Cull over the tips.
“Strangulation?”
“With a piano wire.”
With a tight chest, Cull slid the top picture off and looked at the next. Guilt pounded through him. Not just because he’d made Monica—or whoever she was, feel like shit because he hadn’t been truly sure her memory was correct, but also for the real Monica who was now dead because he’d fucked up. If he’d found her, and he knew he would have if he’d been looking for her, she wouldn’t be dead now. So, he’d screwed up double. Although her lifestyle didn’t put her safety as top priority, she didn’t deserve to die.
“Sorry about the reward, buddy. I guess next time.” Deke closed the folder.
“Damn. If I’d only found her.” He rubbed his eyebrows.
“Hell, man, you can’t blame yourself on this one. You’ve been in this biz long enough to realize no matter how hard we try, we’ll never save everyone. And we’ll never solve every case.” He dragged the file back across the desk and tapped his fingers on the folder. “Move on to the next fugitive, my friend.”
“That’s it?”
Deke shrugged. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“I have a woman living at my apartment who I thought was Monica, but she’s not.”
“I’m confused, buddy. Did she lie to you and tell you her name is Monica?” Deke asked.
“She has memory loss—doesn’t remember anything. Not even the night of the fire.”
His brows scrunched. “Let me pull this together. You rescued a woman with memory loss who can’t remember one damn thing about the person who tried to kill her? All this time you thought she was this girl.” Deke stabbed the folder with his finger. “That’s a lot to absorb.”
“She’ll remember everything.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because each day she gets more of her memories back.”
Deke’s phone buzzed. He read the screen and sighed. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I have a meeting.”
Standing, Cull nodded. “You find anything more regarding this case, let me know, okay?”
Deke assured him he would.
Although it weighed heavily on him that a young girl was dead, he also felt a sense of relief because his Monica wasn’t a killer. He had no reason not to believe that her memory was correct. Thinking of her living on the street, in the elements, with no roof over her head triggered sensations in him that he’d never known. Because he cared for her, he wanted to protect her. Keep her safe. He needed to help her figure out who she was, and make sure the man who killed the girl wasn’t wanting to take his Monica out too.
Cull made his way into the bathroom and when he came out, he spotted Deke heading toward the elevator. He was exchanging angry words with someone on his phone and limping.
****
Monica rolled the dough out on the floured surface. “Like this?”
“Perfect. You have the golden touch.” Beatrice clicked her tongue. “I know you’ve been a little quiet today. Would you want to talk about it?”
Looking at the Cade matriarch, Monica tried to smile, but she guessed it was a crooked attempt to say the least. “How did you know that Bo was the one? You know, the one.”
Beatrice wiped her hands down her white apron and laughed. “Honey, I didn’t at first. We argued all the time, but I guess the making up made it all worthwhile.” She winked and continued peeling the green apples. “My kids inherited the Cade stubborn streak. Good thing that I’ve grown a thick skin over the years.”
“They all seem like great, honorable men and Kiersten is a bright, intelligent woman. You must be proud.” Monica transferred the crust to the pie plate just as Beatrice had shown her how to do.
“Oh, they are all amazing, but rowdy as one can imagine. Now that most of them have settled down, I rest easier at night. They don’t take as many chances as they once did.” She laid her knife down. “Your feelings for
my boy are obvious.”
Monica blinked. “It is?”
“Sweetie, I’ve lived over six decades and have seen a lot. Knowing when a youngin’ is in love isn’t hard to spot.” She smiled widely.
“I might have feelings, but—”
“But what?”
“I don’t know if we can get over all the obstacles between us.” Feeling moisture in her eyes, Monica blinked them back.
Beatrice laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Honey, what makes you think you have any control when it comes to love? You might as well face the facts that when two people fall for each other they’ve lost control of the reins. Anything in the way will be worked out.”
Monica wanted to put her faith in the woman’s words, after all she had been married for over forty years, had six kids and seemed wise beyond her years, but there was a river of doubt flowing through Monica. After waking up during the night and having a huge void filled in her memory, she thought all other memories would follow, but they hadn’t which left her disappointed. Then waking up remembering the argument between her and Cull had made her even more frustrated.
She couldn’t deny that she wanted him, and she believed he wanted her too. She was torn between being responsible and following her heart that was jerking her around. Now that she knew she wasn’t the Monica Warren that was wanted for questioning, it was a huge relief, so then why wasn’t she happy? Because it didn’t answer the complete question of who she was. If she lived on the street as she’d realized last night, then she jumped from one frying pan into another.
What if her entire memory came back and she suddenly didn’t have the same feelings for Cull? What if she had buried secrets? Then it seemed best to keep her feelings in check and her hands off the hunky lawman.
When she awoke she had expected to see Cull, but instead Kiersten was in the apartment kitchen making breakfast. Apparently, Cull had been called away for business and had asked his sister to babysit Monica. Although Kiersten didn’t say those words, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.
Sheltered by the Lawman (Lawmen of Wyoming Book 5) Page 16