“What are you doing?” Curtis asked.
“Routine.”
“You didn’t take pictures before.”
A baseball bat wasn’t part of the equation then. Not responding, Ford checked the kitchen and two bedrooms downstairs before heading upstairs.
In the master bedroom, there was an open suitcase on one side of the bed. It was partially filled with clothing. Curtis had caught his wife in the middle of packing, the catalyst to the fight. The use of a bat definitely revealed the man’s passion. He took more pictures.
Back downstairs, he went into the garage and found the bat right where Dillon had directed him. He took pictures, leaning over the garbage cans to get close-ups of the blood drying on the end.
“Hey. What are you doing out here?” Curtis looked down at what he could see of the bat and his gaze swung back to Ford.
He hadn’t been able to find it before now.
“I’m placing you under arrest for assault.” Ford read Curtis Monroe his rights as he pulled out some handcuffs. “Turn around.”
Curtis’s round eyes regained their aura of false self-confidence. “You can’t arrest me.”
“I can and I will. Turn around.”
Curtis raised his fist. Ford blocked it and pushed him back before he could make impact, sending him tripping over the step leading into the house. He bumped against the open door frame, pushed off that and lunged for Ford again.
Ford slammed his fist at the spot where Curtis’s wife had scratched him in an attempt to defend herself. Curtis yelped as he landed on his hip on the step.
“If you want a room next to your wife at the hospital, I can arrange that,” Ford cautioned, almost hoping the man would stand up and fight so he could follow through with his word.
Glaring from Ford’s clenched fists to his face, Curtis didn’t move, backing down.
“Stand up and turn around,” Ford ordered.
He complied and Ford cuffed him. “Now sit down and wait.”
Outside, Ford heard a car pull up and the engine die. Slipping on latex gloves, he pressed the garage-door button.
“What are you doing?”
Ignoring Monroe, Ford waited for the detective to appear.
“What have we got here?” the detective asked.
Ford explained everything Dillon had told him. “I’ll take Mr. Monroe in, along with the weapon. I’ll report the chain of custody and take care of the processing.”
“The crime-scene team can handle that.”
“I’ll take care of the bat.” He held up his camera. “I got pictures but you may want to get your own.”
The detective stared at him for a long moment as the clear indication of distrust registered. “I understand, Deputy. Has anything been moved?”
“No. I waited for you.”
Bo wouldn’t be able to say they didn’t have enough to hold Curtis. He was facing a felony that could carry as much as a twenty-year sentence, and there was nothing either Bo or Samuel could do about it.
* * *
Late night at the Cold Plains Police Department, Gemma walked proudly beside Ford down the long hallway adorned with pictures of Cold Plains. She hadn’t stopped lusting over him since he’d got the call from Dillon. He was all grit and brawn, purpose and conviction. Her man.
She couldn’t wait to be alone with him.
Just before they reached the door leading to the lobby, it opened and Bo appeared. Gemma stopped with Ford.
“In my office. Now.” Bo passed them and turned a corner.
“I knew he wouldn’t be happy,” Ford mumbled.
“Is he going to fire you?”
“I don’t care if he does.”
He’d grown tired of working for a corrupt boss, such a complete opposite to himself, and Gemma sensed his resignation.
Bo led them into his office. Behind his desk, he leaned over and planted his hands on it. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“Upset that I arrested Curtis again?”
“Don’t mock me, McCall. You’re on a thin sheet of ice right now.”
“I arrested Curtis for beating his wife with a baseball bat. Is that what you asked me in here to talk about?”
“I asked you in here to find out why you didn’t call me.”
“I wanted the charges to stick this time.”
Gemma had no doubt Ford’s sureness had found its mark. A flicker of anger crossed Bo’s eyes and his mouth twitched. “I’m not sure I understand. Why don’t you explain why you acted on your own?”
“I didn’t. Dillon called me directly. Turns out his dad was released from jail and went home to find his wife packing to leave him. That made him pick up a baseball bat and beat her so badly that she’s now in the hospital. I called Detective Adams and waited for him to arrive at the scene before I took control of the chain of custody on the weapon. I turned the bat over to evidence, and forensics is running a test on some blood found at the scene. All I need now is a statement from Mrs. Monroe, but even without it, I have enough to lock Curtis up for a long time.”
“I told you to call me if anything else happened with the Monroes.”
“And I ignored you.”
Gemma cheered on the inside.
Bo trembled with barely contained rage. There was little the chief could say or do. He couldn’t stop Ford from sending Curtis to jail.
“Samuel should be happy I’m clearing the town of another violent man,” Ford said calmly. “It supports his idea of a perfect town. Or is there something special about Curtis Monroe that I don’t know?”
All traces of menace vanished in Bo, expertly managed by a ruthlessly calculating man. Practiced professionalism. All an act.
“You’re right, McCall. Aside from not following my orders, you did everything right. Samuel will be happy.”
Straightening, Bo moved around the desk and came to stand in front of Ford and Gemma. “But keep in mind that I can fire you for not following my orders.”
“I’m anxious to see what forensics comes up with on the bat.” Ford wasn’t fazed by Bo’s intimidation.
“What’s so special about the bat?”
“A bat was used on Jed and on the man found in Shady Meadow.”
Gemma watched Bo digest that. Did Samuel’s precious Devotee like to leave breadcrumbs at his crime scenes? Had he killed Jed and the man from Shady Meadow?
Bo scoffed. “Curtis is hardly capable of killing anyone.”
“But he’s capable of bashing his wife’s head in with a bat?”
“We’re finished with this conversation. I came here tonight to give you a warning. It’s the last one you’ll get.”
“Right. To follow your orders.”
“Precisely.”
“No warning necessary, Chief. I know exactly where I stand with you and Samuel.”
Bo regarded him with reproach before turning to Gemma. “And where do you stand now?”
What was he asking?
“Samuel believes in your innocence, but I’m not sure he should,” he said in her silence. “I’d sure hate to see that trust destroyed.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Fargo, I don’t see why my relationship with Samuel is any of your concern.”
A half smile cocked Bo’s mouth. “I just told you. He believes in your innocence.”
“That’s good. I am innocent.”
“Unfortunately for you, I’m not as convinced. I received information just this afternoon that may change even Samuel’s mind. It’s regarding your ex-husband’s estate. His attorney should be contacting you, maybe he already has tried.” He glanced derisively at Ford. “But you haven’t been available.” Bo’s gaze shifted back to
her. “It seems Jed Johnson never changed his will after the two of you were divorced. He still has you named as his sole beneficiary. You inherit everything, Gemma. And it’s a sizable estate.”
She was rendered numb with whirling questions. How had he learned that, and was he threatening her?
“Jed?” she breathed incredulously.
He’d left her everything? If her bank account was burgeoning before, it was overflowing now. Had that been intentional or a mistake? He’d intended to bring her back home, maybe that was why in his warped thinking he’d left the will alone. Or he’d just been so crazed with the divorce that he’d let it slip she’d go with the latter. His money was too important to him. It had to be a mistake.
“Yes, Gemma, you’re a very wealthy woman…if we can prove you didn’t kill him.”
He was threatening her. He was insinuating that she might have had a motive to murder her ex-husband. But if she stayed away from Ford, what then? Would he magically come up with proof of her innocence?
“If we’re finished?” Ford interrupted.
“Think about what I’ve said, Gemma.”
Ford guided Gemma out of the office. She still reeled with Bo’s dangerous warning. By the time they left the building, fear overwhelmed her.
“What if he arrests me?”
“I’ll prove you’re innocent.”
“What if you can’t?”
“I will.”
She admired his confidence. She wished she shared it. The recording was gone. There was nothing to exonerate her, and Bo might have plans to go through with his threat.
CHAPTER 11
After folding towels and putting them into the linen closet, Gemma stopped at the top of the stairs and listened. She didn’t hear Ford. Living with him was a grueling exercise in self-control. After seeing him in action last night, she’d avoided him today as best she could. Her house wasn’t enormous, though, and they’d had their run-ins. Coming out of the bathroom. In the kitchen for lunch. Hearing him moving about was equally tortuous. Closing the front door when he went on one of his patrols. Sliding the back door shut. The creak of the floor as he walked. The sound of him in the guest room.
How much more could she take? On top of the sizzling temptation of having a man who knew how to treat a lady in her house, there was too much jumbled up her mind. Jed. The whole mess with Samuel. Her possible pregnancy. All of it only added to the strain of chaining back her desire for Ford.
She was weary of it all. So was Ford. She could feel his tension, too.
He appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“It’s safe to come down,” he said.
And she smiled hugely because he must think she was afraid, but not of him. Her smile took hold of him and what she saw triggered an answering response in her.
She stepped down the stairs and decided to let him think it wasn’t him she wanted to avoid. “No sign of Bo or anyone else?”
“No.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
“Wait for your next move.” His eyes roamed her face, lingering on her eyes and mouth. Then he stepped back and turned, going to the sofa, where he sat.
Gemma sat next to him, curling her legs and rolling onto her hip. Her shoulder touched his arm and she would have moved over if he hadn’t stretched his arm along the back of the sofa.
“He must know I won’t join Samuel,” she said, trying to sound normal. Inside, her heart sputtered with the thrill of his nearness.
“He might, but does Samuel?”
Samuel wanted her money. He had hopes that it wasn’t too late to persuade her to come over to his side, to become a Devotee. She was an ideal candidate. Wealthy, healthy, young and attractive.
“Bo might convince him.”
“Let him.”
Hearing his frustration, she recalled Bo’s warning. “What will you do if he fires you?”
After a moment of thought, he turned his head toward her. “For a long time I thought the only thing I wanted was to be a cop. Eventually to run the police department. It felt like my calling.”
Because of what had happened to his family. “But now?”
“Now I’m not so sure. Sometimes I think I could do more good outside the police department.”
“Do you mean independently?”
“Like private investigations.”
Because of what Samuel was doing to the police department? It made sense. It also sounded as though he’d grown since he’d first become a cop. “Maybe it’s time you stopped avenging your family. Maybe you’ve avenged them enough.”
“You’re going to bring that up again?”
Didn’t he see that she had to? Maybe if she told him she thought she was pregnant…
“You’ll always do what’s right, Ford. Nothing or no one can take that away from you. Whether you’re a cop or not, it doesn’t matter. You’re a good man. And it wasn’t your fault that your family was killed.”
“Stop, Gemma.”
She couldn’t. This was only part of what haunted him. And she needed to know if there was any chance for them. She would have preferred time alone, not to get involved so soon after her divorce, but if what they had was the rare and real thing, she wouldn’t give up on him, especially not if she was pregnant.
“Let it go.” She brushed her fingers along the back of his ear, feeling the strands of his blond hair. “Forgive yourself for being a fourteen-year-old who survived.”
“You want me to forget?”
“No. Accept the fact that you had no control over what happened. You couldn’t have stopped them from killing your parents and your brother. If you’d tried, you’d have been killed, too.”
“Maybe.”
“Would your mother have wanted you to try?”
She saw the answer in the grief that came into his eyes.
“No. She would have wanted you to live. So would your father and your brother.”
Losing his family had driven him to become a cop and maybe there had been a time when he’d done it out of guilt, but she could tell he had different reasons now. Reasons that stemmed from a horrible tragedy that he’d turned into something good. Ford represented and stood for that good and he didn’t back down in the face of evil. That’s what made her love him.
Love…
Where had that word come from? Apprehension reared up in her. There was deeper pain in him than what had made him a cop. And it was that pain that would keep them apart, if he let it.
She began to move away from him. Maybe it would be better just to walk away, not to hope for a future.
He stopped her with his arm around her shoulder.
“You’re right, Gemma.”
She eased back against the sofa again, sinking into his blue eyes.
“I didn’t realize until now, but I’ve made peace with that. I’m a cop so that I can stop crimes. That will never leave me. I don’t do it to avenge anyone. Not anymore.”
“What about your wife?” She asked quietly, not sure if she was ready to hear his answer.
It came in the hard barrier that shuttered his eyes. “She was something different.”
Yes. Different. Damaging.
“Do you ever see yourself getting married again?” she gently asked, half of her wishing he wouldn’t answer. That way she still had denial. Except she couldn’t deny anymore.
“Maybe. Not for a while, though.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Ten, fifteen years from now.”
“That’s a long time from now.”
“Yeah. Good.”
Good? He wanted that much time to pass? Had he loved his wife that much? Had she been his true love and he
didn’t need to have another in this life? Was his job in law enforcement enough? He did pour himself into his work, all that goodness driving him.
Crushing disappointment made her withdraw. She moved away from him, leaning back but not getting up off the sofa.
Even if they decided to keep seeing each other, he wouldn’t be there for her. Jed hadn’t, either, in a different way, but he still hadn’t been there for her. She couldn’t do that again. She couldn’t let herself down like that. The next time she gave her heart to a man, she’d know he felt the same.
Add onto that the possibility that she was pregnant and things got really complicated.
Disturbed, now Gemma did get up off the sofa, unfolding her legs and standing. She rubbed her arms and moved to the edge of the living room.
Ford came up behind her, putting his hands over hers and stilling them. “What’s wrong, Gemma?”
She moved away from his touch and faced him. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been acting strange lately.”
“No, I haven’t.” She answered too quickly. “I haven’t.”
He scrutinized her in his cop way. “What’s wrong, then?”
“Nothing. I just…I don’t like hearing you say things like that.” That wasn’t completely true. She actually thought it was good he didn’t want to settle down any time soon. She didn’t, either. Well, not right away, anyway. Ten to fifteen years was too long for her, but two years seemed reasonable.
Running his hand through his thick blond hair, something she wished she had the liberty to do whenever the urge took her, he sighed and then looked at her in frustration. “I’m not planning anything, okay?”
His lack of resolve on the matter was palpable. He’d thought about this and he’d thought about it long and hard. He didn’t see himself married. And she couldn’t be more convinced of his fear.
“We shouldn’t even be having this conversation. I just got divorced from a monster. The last thing I need is another man.”
There he went again, scrutinizing her. “Then why are we?”
Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission Page 68