by Jodi Linton
He glanced at Gunner, then back at me. “With him at your back, I wouldn’t dare.”
I was pretty sure there was some hidden comment in that statement—one I had no desire to take the time to figure out. Taking two good steps back, I slung my hands upon my hips. “Well, spit it out.”
Instead of doing so, he seized my wrist and yanked me after him. “Outside, now,” he ordered, his voice rough and his breath ragged.
Gunner made a grab for me in passing, but Luke was faster, dragging me through the crush of dancers and people milling about between us and the double barn doors. Cursing, Gunner made a beeline after us. I caught a glimpse of Nathan staring curiously after us, then we were outside, Luke’s hat had flown off, and we were headed toward a tall oak hidden from his guests’ prying view. He’d just slung me against the rough tree trunk when Gunner arrived to jerk Luke away from me and twist his arm behind his back. Then it was Luke’s turn to wind up planted against the rough tree bark—face first with Gunner’s fist in his hair.
“Tell me the plan, Luke,” he said with soft menace and released Luke with a forward shove.
“All right, okay.” Hands wide from his sides in an attitude of submission, Luke turned and slumped against the tree trunk. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a toothpick and rolled it between his finger and thumb. “How well do you know Nathan?” he asked me, slipping the toothpick between his lips.
I looked from him to Gunner and back. “Oh…don’t you dare try to bullshit me, Luke Wagner.”
He flipped the toothpick about his tongue. “If I was bullshitting, cutie, you wouldn’t even know it.” He kicked the tree with the heel of a boot. “There’s a lot you don’t know. For instance, I bet you didn’t know Nathan was having money problems.” He paused to let that sink in.
I felt Gunner slide a step closer to me but said nothing, waiting for Luke to hang himself.
Watching us, Luke huffed out a laugh. “That’s right, Laney, your fiancé begged my father for a loan a few days ago. He must be missing a few marbles, because everyone knows my old man doesn’t hand over cash.”
I rammed a finger at his wide chest. “Is that the best you’ve got, Wagner? I thought you were more clever than to—”
Luke readjusted his back against the tree, shifted his boot to the ground, and hunched over me. “And I thought you knew better than most that everyone has secrets,” Luke shot back. “I mean, you used to live with the biggest liar of them all.”
“What?” I couldn’t fathom what he was talking about, but damned if it didn’t make an area in the region of my heart hurt. “What does that have to do with this?”
“Laney,” Gunner said, so uncharacteristically gentle that my heart hurt even worse. He folded my finger away from Luke’s chest and cupped my hand in his. “Let the man finish.”
Luke’s mouth tightened. “I guess it doesn’t mean nothin’,” he said, “except you seem to have a hankering for filling your bed with bastards.”
I started to shake as the blood left my head in a rush. I would have slapped him, but Gunner kept hold of my hand even as he made a move to grab Luke by the throat that I derailed. This prick was mine—to beat down or arrest, whichever seemed most appropriate once we got out of him the confession we were looking for.
“I guess that means you, too, huh?” I spat at Luke, knowing that I sounded not the least bit professional. But since I didn’t feel professional right now, that was fine. “But at least I cleared your sorry ass out of my sheets before you dragged me down with you. Now get over our past mistakes and fucking get to what you know about all of this.”
“Fine.” He worked his jaw around whatever was coming next. “Like I told you, I went by that night to spook Bosley’s cows. Figured if they deserted him or something, my family could get hold of his land faster.” He kicked a weed with the tip of his boot. “I was in the barn sneaking around when I heard a truck pull up.” He looked at me and hesitated, then just put it out there. “Laney, you’ve got no cause to believe me, but it was that fucker of a fiancé of yours having a very heated talk with the old man.”
“Bullshit!”
Luke shrugged. “Thought you should know before going through with that damn wedding.”
“You’re full of shit.” But something told me he wasn’t.
“Luke,” Gunner said carefully, “you’re sure it was Nathan you saw out there that night? You couldn’t have mistaken him for someone else?”
Luke sneered at him. “You think I’d say it was Nathan if it wasn’t when I know how sayin’ it could help you get close to Laney again? Not a chance. It was that turd-plucker, and that’s straight.”
Gunner nodded at him. “All I need to know.” He pulled out his handcuffs. He’d gotten as far as, “Luke Wagner, I’m placing you under arrest for obstruction—” when I spun on my heels to face the barn.
“Fuck,” I said tightly. “Fucking lying bastard!”
It would have been nice to know for sure which one of them I meant.
To hell with all of them. They could all just kiss my ass.
Luke because he was the lying, sneaking, low-down, dirty prick who’d comforted me after Gunner left, and who I’d always wanted to believe—and believe in.
Gunner because he was…well, Gunner. He was the charming, lying cheat who’d broken my heart. He’d also called what Luke told us ‘all he needed to hear’—which left me convinced he’d known where all of this was headed before he set foot back in Pistol Rock. By trying to protect me from the inevitable, he’d left me to swing in the breeze without respect for my position as a deputy sheriff or the fact that I was now a fully grown woman who’d been handling her own mistakes since he’d left. That made him worse than Luke any day because I’d expected more of him, both as a fellow cop and as the man who’d known me best.
And Nathan…Nathan had a lot of questions to answer, and I hoped he gave me the right ones and made me believe them, or he was going to end up the sorriest asshole of the bunch.
Purposefully, I strode toward the barn to confront the dirt bag I was still engaged to—and slammed directly into him.
“Shit!” I jumped back, reaching behind my back to where my gun wasn’t because it was in my purse.
“There you are.” Nathan smiled. He looked me over, then took my hand and tugged me to his side. “I was beginning to think Luke had run away with you.”
“He’s not that smart.” No, that was a lie. He was smart enough to run me in circles while he tried to stick a wedge in my relationship with Nathan. But that chasm was already wide enough to fit Mexico into, and it didn’t look to be closing any time soon. I tried to suck up the fact that Luke had no reason I knew of to lie about seeing Nathan out at Arrowhead Range the night of Pacey Monroe’s murder. To understand that the man I’d agreed to marry a week from today might well be a murderer.
While I was trying to think how best to tackle him on that issue, Nathan hooked an arm around my neck. “Are you okay?” he asked when I ducked out from under his arm, slid a few feet away, and squared to face him.
“No,” I told him. “We need to talk. Do you mind if we call it a night?”
He stepped closer, angling into the light from the barn to get a better view of my face. “You do look sort of sick.”
I faked a smile. “I’d just like to go now, please.”
“If that’s what you need, then let’s go. I’ll just get our coats.” He hurried through weathered, wind-beaten barn doors.
When he returned, we headed for his truck. Gunner’s Yukon was already gone when we arrived. I assumed he was delivering Luke to lockup, but didn’t want to think too much about it. At that moment, I wasn’t sure I cared whether or not either of them made it to the jail in one piece.
I hauled myself into Nathan’s truck. “Do you mind swinging by your place so I can get my pickup?”
“No problem,” Nathan replied. “Just don’t take all night. I’ve got an early appointment tomorrow.”
&nb
sp; “I can manage that.”
He turned over the engine, and we took off.
I was moody the entire drive. Funny how it’d only taken me a week to screw myself over. I knew Gunner would be trouble, but shame on me for leading Nathan on—and for not having the balls to stand up to him when he vented his anger toward Gunner at me. Still, all I wanted to do was sweep the whole incident under the rug, let Nathan call foul, and let me walk away. But as we drove up the drive to Bovine Health Services, I could sense it would be a cold day in hell before Nathan would forgive my indiscretions. And that was the issue that would keep me awake at night and the issue that scared the living daylights out of me.
Nathan parked the truck, opened the driver-side door, and stepped out under dimly lit night sky. I followed suit and rounded the front fender, coming face-to-face with the man who might have been involved in the murders of three people as well as my dog, the one I was fixing to erase from my life for good. Standing here in the dark, nervous and cold, alone with a man I was just coming to see could be highly irrational when things didn’t go exactly the way he planned…well, I knew what I had to do, but I was having reservations about calling it quits.
I looked him in the eyes. “I can’t keep doing this Nathan. You and me, this thing we call a relationship…” I began to slip off my engagement ring, trying to keep my voice even and not give away the darker aspects of my thoughts. “I gave my heart to a reckless cowboy years ago. I thought that part of my life was over, but it’s not. If I stay with you, I’ll only be hurting us both.” I cupped the diamond in my hand and pushed my fist at Nathan’s crossed arms. “I don’t want to hurt you, Nathan, especially not like that.”
He smiled calmly. “You’ll be back.” He leaned into me, and could I feel his hot, sweaty breath rake over me. The touch of his mouth brushed my neck, bringing a chill to my spine. “Keep the ring, babe. Consider it a token of the affection I had for you and Hank. Besides”—he took a step back—“I have the feeling once Gunner taps your tail again, he’ll move on like always.”
And then he was gone. And all I was left with was a slapping screen door and the icy realization that Luke might not just be yanking my chain.
Nathan might really be the murderer we were looking for.
Chapter Sixteen
I shut the wipers off and let my pickup idle in the rain outside the Pistol Rock Motor Lodge. I’d gone by the station first to see if Gunner was there, but the Yukon was nowhere to be seen. Only Elroy and Luke, his single prisoner, had been there. And Luke had clammed up tight and wasn’t talking to me other than to tell me to go fuck myself if I was going to let some shitfaced Texas Ranger do him in when he was just trying to be a good citizen.
I’d thought about pointing out that if Luke had come clean from the start regarding his personal whereabouts and what he thought he’d seen the night Pacey Monroe and Bosley Conrad’s cows died, then he wouldn’t be sleeping on the jail cot for the night.
Truthfully, it had surprised the hell out of me, seeing Gunner arrest him for obstruction. The fact that Luke remained in jail when his father could probably have called Dobbs and gotten him freed surprised me even more. That’s the way the good ol’ boy network worked: money talked, children walked.
I eyed Gunner’s vehicle now, parked in its slot outside his room, and the lights were on inside. I exhaled, allowing myself the luxury to breathe again, then glanced at the glove box where I’d stuffed the ring Nathan had told me to keep. The feel of his breath on my neck when he’d mentioned Hank still gave me the willies. Realizing that he’d shown up to take care of me right after the truck from which my dog’s body had been dumped roared away…that sent a chill down my spine.
I did not want to be alone tonight.
Rain spilled down my face as I scooted out of the truck. I flipped my drenched hair out of my eyes and bent to slip off my heels. Straightening, I told the nagging voice in the back of my mind to shut up, that this was only about me being afraid to stay alone while Nathan dealt with our break up and I dealt with the uneasy thought of what he might be capable of, and made my way across the lot, sloshing through the puddles to room six.
Gunner answered the door at the very moment I stepped back to wait for him and water rushed off the overhang, drenching me. Nodding, he took in my sodden appearance.
“Wondered when you’d show,” he drawled.
“What do you know about Nathan and Pacey and Skinny and Hank that you haven’t told me yet?” I said boldly, shoving past him into the room.
“You didn’t ask about Bosley,” he countered, stepping aside to let me in.
I dropped my heels near the door and headed for his bathroom. Under the right circumstances, I liked to be wet and sweaty and nailed down by Gunner in the throes of sex. This very motel room had seen that action between us more than once. But that was years and history ago, and all I felt right now was totally soaked and awkward.
“Let me dry off, and I’ll be right back,” I muttered and shut the bathroom door on him.
“Sure,” Gunner called after me. “You get out of my bathroom, I’ll be here. We can talk.”
Then I heard him mutter under his breath, “Or something.”
The thought gave me even more gooseflesh than I already sported after getting chilled by the rain.
Quickly, I stripped and dried off. He’d left one of his T-shirts hanging on the back of the door, so I grabbed it and slid it on. It fell to my knees and made me look like something the cat dragged in, but maybe that was a good thing under the circumstances. Running a hand through my hair in an attempt to detangle it after toweling it dry, I opened the door to the room where Gunner had deflowered me.
He stood on the other side of the room near the windows, scowling, looking like he was debating whether to feed me to the wolves or kiss me. My body, traitor that it was, found this enticing—I could feel my nipples tightening to pinpoints against the shapeless cotton shirt. I, who preferred sex to confrontation of any sort—witness my willingness to have Nathan on top of me—licked my lips and eyed the bed.
Gunner’s glower deepened.
Swallowing, I darted my gaze at the mini-fridge. “Do you have anything to drink?”
“A drink.” Gunner huffed and moved away from the window. “What the hell. I could use a cold one.” He went to the fridge and squatted, stretching the tight Wranglers around his firm ass as he opened the door. “Will beer do?” He pulled out two Bud Lights and rose.
“I’m not complicated,” I replied.
Gunner snorted. “Right,” he said. “Almost as uncomplicated as a wounded cougar in a corner.” He cracked open both beers and handed me one. “Spit it out, Laney. What do you want?”
I took a harsh swallow of beer, sucking up courage. “That stuff Luke said about Nathan,” I said finally, “it’s true, isn’t it? You knew it before he confirmed it.”
His lips twisted in a kind of shrug. “I suspected.”
He set his beer on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed to lean back against the headboard. Heat flushed my cheeks as I watched his T-shirt hike up his stomach to reveal a portion of his ripped six pack and the dark curls that peaked out from the low-slung waistline of the jeans I hadn’t realized were unsnapped and half unzipped.
“Like what you see?” he asked. When I gulped but didn’t look up, he made a two-fingered motion from his fly to his face. “You’re engaged,” he reminded me. “Eyes, up here.”
Guiltily, my gaze jumped to his face. Shit. Caught. Embarrassed, I scanned the room for somewhere else to rest my eyes. The desk chair caught my attention, so I hauled it out and sat, self-consciously pulling that now damned inadequate T-shirt down over my knees. Why had I come here again? “Why did you arrest Luke for obstruction when you know either Mitch will just bail him out in the morning, or Dobbs will let him go the minute he gets wind of it?”
He lifted and dropped a shoulder. “Dobbs doesn’t have jurisdiction over my prisoners. If he turns Luke loose, I can hook h
im up for obstruction, too.”
“But—”
He shook his head and held up a finger for me to let him finish. “Look, Laney, Luke is a key witness in at least one murder investigation and probably more. We know Dobbs is dirty, but we need proof. Your fiancé—”
“He’s not my fiancé,” I said quickly, ripping that bandage off my wounds and wiggling my ring finger at him, “I ended it before I came here.” And wasn’t that just the stupidest admission I’d ever made to him.
He looked at me, eyes darkening. Then he took a deep breath and roused himself from wherever his thoughts had taken him. “Okay, so, Dobbs is dirty”—he ticked his fingers one by one—“Bosley was deep in financial difficulties and so is Nathan, if Luke can be believed. I’m still not sure how Pacey comes into this, but—again, if Luke can be believed—Nathan and Bosley were seen arguing the night before Pacey and Arrowhead Range’s cows died. We also know that the Wagners were after the Arrowhead Range land, and they got their hands on it almost the minute Bosley died.”
I nodded, trying to keep up, even though the whole thing made my head hurt with the plot convolutions. Add to that the distraction of staring at Gunner as he lay jacked up on the bed, and my brain was gone.
Gunner tapped his fifth or sixth finger—I’d lost count. “Skinny was known to cook meth and deal other drugs on a modest scale, and ketamine is being bought and sold throughout the area. As a vet, Nathan has access to as much ketamine as he can use. Skinny was killed in Dobbs’s jail cell on Dobbs’s watch.”
He looked at me and took another deep breath. “We know the cows were killed by someone mixing poison parsley into their water supply. Bosley is the likely culprit if he was looking for an insurance payout, but what if he hired Nathan to do it in exchange for a portion of the insurance and Pacey found out?”
“But…” I started and subsided. I’d been about to say that I thought Nathan was out of town the night Pacey died, but he hadn’t left for his Houston meeting until after. He could have been anywhere that night for all I knew. Still, the idea seemed insubstantial to me. “Are you saying you think Nathan is somehow involved with both the ketamine trafficking and Bosley’s dead cows as well as Pacey’s death?” I shook my head. “And you think Dobbs murdered Skinny and…” I squinted. “And that he’s also responsible for the drive-by that killed Bosley, which would mean that he…what? Took a payoff from Mitch Wagner to…” I looked for the word. “…facilitate Wagner’s acquisition of Bosley’s farm?”