Smoking Hot

by Karen Kelley

  She didn’t look as if she would hurt a fly— until Raine met her hard blue eyes. There was nothing soft about this woman. Raine had a feeling anyone she interrogated would be in for a shock.

  Ethan Miles stepped inside. “You wanted something?”

  “Can you make sure we’re not disturbed?” Sheriff Barnes told him rather than asked.

  Raine almost smiled. Ethan being in the room made her good news all the better. “That’s the man who was shot,” she said before Ethan could leave. “It was a setup.” Her smile was wide.

  Sheriff Barnes looked around the room until his gaze landed on his lead deputy. “Ethan?”

  The agent studied Ethan as though looking at him in a new light.

  “Like hell! I was picking up some papers from Joe and I can prove it.”

  “They can’t see or hear me,” Dillon quickly told her. “Cover up the blunder or you’ll be in the state hospital before nightfall.”

  “But…” she began.

  “Look at their faces,” Dillon said. “They’re not looking at me, but Ethan. They think he’s the man you’re talking about. If they can see me, why would they look at him?”

  This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Of course they could see him.

  “Are you feeling okay, Raine?” Sheriff Barnes turned his attention back to her. The way he looked at her was as though he was seeing her for the first time.

  No, she wasn’t feeling well at all. She drew in a deep breath.

  “Yes, of course, and I certainly didn’t mean Ethan. He’s a very… uh…good deputy.”

  “Then who were you talking about?” Emily asked softly, but the glint in her eyes got a little sharper.

  Fear trickled down Raine’s spine. She was right about not underestimating the woman. Oh hell, she was losing her mind. Dillon was right, they would have immediately looked at him, not Ethan. Dillon couldn’t be an angel! Demon, maybe, but he certainly wasn’t angelic.

  “I’m a nephilim,” Dillon said, sensing her turmoil. “Half angel, half man. An immortal.”

  The mental institution she’d toured during her training was cold and bleak. White walls, drab brown furniture that looked like it came from a secondhand store. She rubbed her arms when cold chills popped up. She didn’t want to be committed so doctors could prod and probe her.

  Now everyone thought she was crazy. This was great. Just freakin’ great! She drew in a deep breath and frantically searched for a way to get out of this new mess. “I didn’t mean he’s here at this very moment,” Raine’s words stumbled out. She scrambled to find the right thing to say that would make them stop looking at her like she’d lost her marbles.

  “What did you mean?” Ethan questioned, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  She cast a look in his direction that should’ve fried him on the spot but it didn’t even make him uncomfortably warm. She was losing her touch.

  “We can handle everything from here,” Sheriff Barnes said, then added, “Close the door on your way out.”

  Ethan frowned, looked at her once more as if he always knew there was something wrong with her, then left the room.

  She breathed a sigh of relief until her attention returned to Emily and the sheriff. They still wanted answers. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to be locked away.

  “Tell them you were thinking about the bank robbery and trying to figure it all out,” Dillon quickly said. “When they came into the room it was still on your mind.”

  What did she have to lose? “I was thinking about the bank robbery and trying to figure it all out. I guess when everyone came into the room I was still lost in thought.”

  “Good,” Dillon told her. “Now say that you put two and two together and you figured out it was all a setup to make people think you robbed the bank. The robber who fired the gun probably used blanks and the man who pushed you out of the way had fake blood.”

  Really? She’d told him that very same thing before the others came into the room. It was her idea, not his.

  “Just say it. You can tell me later the idea was yours.”

  Later? Yeah, she would certainly do that and then some, but she wasn’t off the hook yet. “This is my theory.” She put emphasis on my and went on to explain.

  “Why would someone try to set you up?” Emily asked when Raine finished.

  “So you would look at me and Grandpa and spend less time looking for the real perpetrators.”

  Silence filled the room. Raine studied their faces as they digested her theory. They didn’t believe her. It was a far-fetched idea to begin with. If she lied and said she planned the whole thing, would they leave Grandpa alone?

  “It’s plausible,” Emily finally said.

  Raine’s heart skipped a beat.

  Emily turned to Sheriff Barnes. “We have been more focused on Raine and her grandfather.” Her gaze swung back to Raine.

  “But how would they know you wouldn’t have backup with you?”

  “They probably knew what was going to happen before they robbed the bank. Ethan was only on call, not on duty. That night he was at the south end of the county. It’s no secret he plays cards every Wednesday. There’s no way he could get back into town before the bank robbers finished the job, and isn’t it odd Leo had a flat on that night? Everyone was delayed getting to the bank.”

  “She’s right,” Sheriff Barnes said.

  Raine could feel some of her tension easing.

  “Like you say, it’s one theory.” Emily’s gaze met Raine’s.

  “You at least have them thinking about it,” Dillon said.

  “Nice work.”

  “Of course,” Raine countered, then realized they still didn’t see or hear him. She cleared her throat. “Of course that’s only one theory, but it makes more sense than me taking the money.”

  “Do you regret leaving Fort Worth?” Emily asked, changing the subject.

  It took a moment for her brain to switch gears. “I miss a lot of things, but regret?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t regret coming home. I would do anything for my grandfather.” Loyalty meant something to her. She met Emily’s gaze head-on and refused to look away.

  Emily finally broke the connection when she sat in the chair next to the sheriff’s desk. Raine felt a brief moment of victory, but it quickly disappeared. She longed to go back to the ranch but she had a feeling Emily wasn’t finished. More questions. Raine knew she should be thankful they were still at this stage and they hadn’t locked her in a cell, but she wasn’t feeling generous. They should have put her at the bottom of the list of suspects, not the top.

  Sheriff Barnes sat in the oak chair behind the desk. The same chair her father sat in when he was sheriff. The chair was on rollers and the seat swiveled. Hank called it his lazy man’s chair because he could reach just about anything he needed without getting up.

  There was a familiar squeak when Sheriff Barnes turned slightly. Raine gritted her teeth as a flood of memories rushed back. Her father would lean back in the chair and cross his arms in front of him and they would talk about everything under the sun. If they were going fishing that weekend, or maybe they needed to ride the perimeter checking fences.

  You never know when a fence will be down, Raine. Always take care of what belongs to you. If you don’t, someday you might look around and it’ll be gone.

  “Sheriff Barnes tells me your father used to be the sheriff,” Emily said.

  Her thoughts seemed so real that it was a shock to glance around the room and not see her father. He wasn’t there. Dillon wasn’t either. Maybe he never had been.

  She sat in the chair facing them and raised her chin. “Until right before he died.”

  “Do you resent someone taking his place?” Emily crossed her legs, leaning slightly forward.

  She looked at the sheriff. “You mean Sheriff Barnes?”

  He glanced down at the papers on his desk. Was he trying to stay neutral? Her father would never have taken a back seat at any interrogation.<
br />
  “The thought never crossed my mind,” she told Emily. “Sheriff Barnes was Dad’s lead deputy. He liked and respected my father. I wish my father was here, but he’s not. No one will ever take his place, but if I had to choose someone to fill the slot he left open, I couldn’t choose a better man than the one sitting behind that desk right now.”

  Sheriff Barnes raised his eyes; a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Your father was a good man, one of the best.” He leaned back in his chair, looking anything but casual. “I think we can leave Raine’s father out of this inquiry.”

  Emily shrugged as if to say she’d only been testing the waters.

  Raine had a feeling Emily wouldn’t cut her much slack. She would do the same thing if their positions were reversed. She could respect the other woman for doing her job.

  Emily reached into her pocket and brought out a piece of paper. She carefully unfolded then flattened it with the palm of her hand. “You’re not very old to have garnered so much praise from your superiors.” She glanced up.

  “I imagine we’re close to the same age,” Raine said.

  For a brief moment, Raine thought she caught a glimmer of humor in the woman’s eyes, but Emily quickly looked down at the paper so Raine couldn’t be sure. Not that it would matter.

  The agent would still do her job.

  “You also have a list of reprimands.” She raised her gaze to meet Raine’s. “You’ve taken a lot of chances at the risk of your own life.”

  “I did what I had to do at the time.”

  “Like what happened on the drug raid last December?”

  How could someone not remove a crying child from a house where a drug deal was going down? If they stormed the place, bullets would fly. The child was in a room by herself. Easy in, easy out. Until one of the drug dealers opened the door to get his stash of drugs out of the closet.

  “I removed the child from a hazardous situation.”

  “The man sued for police brutality and almost won. The trial still cost the taxpayers, though.”

  Raine cocked an eyebrow. “He tripped.” Could she help it if his windpipe landed against her fist? He hadn’t been able to call out a warning and she’d removed the baby from the house unharmed.

  The questioning continued until Raine thought her head would explode. After an hour had passed, Sheriff Barnes cleared his throat. “I think that’s all we’ll need for today.”

  Emily looked as though she might protest, but she nodded instead. “Of course, you won’t leave the area.”

  Where would she go? “I won’t go farther than the ranch.” She came to her feet.

  “Oh, just one more question,” Emily said.

  Raine was about ready to scream. “Whatever I can do to help.” Yes, her words sounded sharp, but Raine didn’t care. Her head hurt and she was tired.

  “You said you would do anything for your grandfather. Would you rob a bank for him?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Why was he there that night?”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “Yet his handkerchief was found at the scene.”

  “No.” Raine shook her head.

  “Your grandfather’s brand isn’t an M with a leaning C beside it?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “The cleaning lady discovered the handkerchief in a corner near the vault, along with your notepad, but in your statement you said you were nowhere near the vault. Now, I’ll ask you again, was your grandfather at the bank that night?”

  Chapter 9

  Raine saw the looks as she left the sheriff’s office. The kind where you turn and catch someone watching you as though you’ve sprouted two heads. When they realize you’ve caught them staring, they quickly turn away. As she strode toward the door she encountered more than one of those looks.

  Except one person didn’t turn away. Ethan. He acted as though he knew something she didn’t. She met his stare head on.

  There was no way in hell she’d back down.

  Another deputy spoke to him. Ethan turned away. A draw.

  So be it. She held her head high as she walked toward the door, but on the inside she shook like a leaf during a windstorm because the truth was starting to sink in. Dillon was an immortal. An angel. Half angel. If he was a freakin’ angel why did he look at her as though he wanted to carry her to bed? And where the hell were his wings? She shoved on the door and marched out of the sheriff’s office.

  Weren’t angels supposed to make a person’s life better? Dillon had only screwed hers up. What little respect she’d gained from the other deputies was lost. She and Grandpa were suspects. They might as well have the plague.

  “I was better off without him,” she muttered.

  She stumbled. Dillon really was an angel, an immortal. No, half angel, half man. A nephilim. This wasn’t really happening.

  She didn’t believe in any other world except the one she lived in right now. Immortals didn’t exist. But if Dillon didn’t exist, that would make her and Grandpa both crazy. She needed to talk with Grandpa.

  She climbed into the pickup and slammed the door closed, then tested to make sure it was secure. Everything was falling apart. The pickup, the ranch, her job. She’d like nothing more than to tell everyone to kiss her ass, but she didn’t have that luxury. Quitting wasn’t an option. They needed the money. She only hoped they cleared her as soon as possible. She shoved the stick shift into reverse and backed out of the parking space. If she and Grandpa had a guardian angel, then why the hell didn’t he at least fix something?

  Tilly’s place was on the edge of town. A little country, a little city. She’d bought the big rambling Victorian not long after her husband passed away. The house was practically falling down. Her friends told her she was crazy when she used what was left of her husband’s life insurance to restore it, turning it into a B&B.

  “We’re not suspects,” Raine told her grandfather after she went inside. “It’s a formality.” Then she explained to Grandpa how it would look better if he stayed with Tilly. She didn’t mention that his handkerchief and her notepad were later discovered near the vault. Raine told him she would take care of the stock. He finally agreed to stay put for now.

  Tilly didn’t seem to mind that Grandpa had picked up another stray. The golden retriever was beautiful. When Raine thought about it, other than her bandaged paw which was on the mend, the dog was well-groomed for an animal living off the streets.

  They should put an ad in the Lost and Found, she supposed, or they would be accused of stealing dogs next, even though the dog apparently didn’t have a collar or tags. She was getting paranoid.

  “Tilly, I don’t suppose you have any of your peach tea. I’m really thirsty,” Raine said.

  “Where are my manners? Of course I do.”

  As soon as Tilly left the room, Raine turned to Grandpa.

  “Tell me everything you know about Dillon.”

  Grandpa wore a grim expression. “I should’ve never asked him to watch over you. He’s caused us a whole heap of trouble. I couldn’t very well ask for references, though.” His eyes narrowed.

  “I ’spect he’s been back if you’re asking about him.”

  She studied his face. “You really did see him?”

  “Seen him, talked to him. He seemed nice enough. He’s not too good at answering prayers, though. I caused you more problems. I’m real sorry ’bout that.”

  She hugged him close. “Don’t you be sorry about anything, Grandpa. We’ll get through this.”

  He patted her back. “That we will. And if Dillon bothers you, just send him to me and I’ll set him straight. And next time I pray, I’ll ask for a real angel.”

  “Maybe you should let me handle things from now on,” she gently told him.

  “I suppose you’re right. You always take care of everyone. I wanted to help, but I…”

  She stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “You did what you thought was best. Dillon is the one who messed up, not
you.

  We’ll get through this like we’ve gotten through everything. Okay?”

  He paused, then nodded, but his smile wobbled.

  Before she’d left, Tilly pulled her aside and warned her some of the town was starting to come to the wrong conclusion about her involvement in the robbery. On the drive back to the ranch, she wondered how someone could go about killing an immortal.

  Dillon had screwed up her and Grandpa’s life and it looked as if Tilly was next on his list. When Raine mentioned asking the sheriff once more if Grandpa could go home so Tilly’s reputation wouldn’t be ruined, Tilly would hear none of that kind of talk.

  She didn’t give a hoot what people thought.

  Neither did Raine, but it added another mark against Dillon and there were already plenty of marks. From the moment she met him. There was something about his eyes. She was certain he’d used some sort of magic. How else could he get her gun?

  A pothole that almost swallowed the truck jarred her out of her thoughts. She paid more attention to the road and missed the next ones. By the time she pulled up in front of the ranch and went inside, she was in a pissy mood.

  “Dillon!” She slammed the door closed. “I know you can hear me!” She stopped in the hallway and listened. Nothing. “What?

  Do you only show up when you decide it might be fun to screw with a mortal’s life?”

  She strode into the living room, flipping on the light switch.

  The room was empty. That figured. He wasn’t about to show himself because he might have to answer for all the problems he’d caused her. She whirled around and stopped, her breath catching in her throat. Dillon casually leaned against the doorframe. For a moment she couldn’t say anything.

  “Did you need something?” he drawled.

  “Yes, I need you to get the hell out of my life!”

  “Okay.” He closed his eyes and vanished. One minute he was standing in front of her, and in the next, he was gone.

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He’d left.

  Disappeared. Vanished. Poof. She resisted the urge to reach up and rub her eyes.

  Dammit! She hadn’t told him what she thought about him screwing up her life. “Dillon!”