Sinful Secrets

by Melissa Ohnoutka

  “So Denise killed the cop assigned to watch the house?” A jolt of surprise ricocheted through her.

  “Not sure on that one, either. I’d say no. Larger, deeper prints were found by the cruiser. Denise’s partner probably did that nasty deed before joining her to scare the hell out you.”

  Shaking her head, she lifted a hand to her temple where an annoying throb had started plugging at the side of her skull.

  “He’s the one they suspect she was talking to at your dad’s Christmas party. The person you overheard her plotting with by the pool. The one who robbed the hotel safe.”

  “Do they know who this guy is?”

  “Not sure. They seem to be keeping a lot of details sealed up tight.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Any idea where Keith may have been while they were breaking into the cottage?”

  “Good question. Maybe they were supposed to bring me to him.” She shivered. “And when that plan didn’t work, he found me himself?”

  Ryker nodded. “Makes sense why we didn’t see his SUV around your dad’s house. He probably dropped them off.” His jaw clenched as a thought hit. “He thought you were alone, and I’m thinking the break-in was bogus, maybe a plan to scare you, so he could rush in and save you. Try to make you see him as a hero.”

  “Yes, that makes sense. He had to be close by.” Joanna played back the sequence of events in her head and confirmed her belief he hadn’t killed the other cop. Keith had found them on the road instead. Shot Ryker. Caught up with her at the gas station. All within a short time frame.

  Rolling the empty food bags up into tight wads, he grew anxious. “I have some things I need to take care of.” He stood and headed for the door. “You need anything?”

  “No, I’m good.” Why was he in such a hurry to leave now? She wished she hadn’t brought up the accident. Hadn’t been so quick to offer up her words of wisdom when he was clearly still hurting. She wanted the funny, compassionate Ryker back. This one scared her more than she wanted to admit. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

  He nodded with a quick smile and exited the room, leaving her to stare at her food. The small space felt so empty. So cold. Her stomach roiled at the thought of having to face the outside world alone. Suddenly, she wasn’t so hungry.

  Poor Ryker. What a horrible thing to have to live with.

  Could the situation get any more wacked? Keith was dead. Her father was recovering on the hospital floor above her, his girlfriend was the key suspect in not only his overdose but in her and Sam’s kidnapping as well as several murders, and Joanna was left trying to get her body and brain synchronized to the important stuff. And she was coming to like Ryker a lot. Maybe too much.

  She huffed down a breath and rocked back and forth.

  Regardless of what Ryker wanted, the minute her father was out of danger, she was out of here. Sam had offered to let her stay at the lake house, and she planned to take her up on the offer, whether the handsome deputy liked it or not. He wasn’t the boss of her. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted. She’d been manipulated for way too long.

  Whoa there. Slow down. Think this through. Was she really ready to face reality?

  “Things can’t possibly get worse,” she reasoned.

  But an irritating little voice kept picking at her, warning her she was wrong.

  Dead wrong.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next few days were brutal for Joanna. Ryker managed to talk her into staying in the hospital in order for her leg to heal enough for her to walk on her own without crutches. Easier for her to run from the press, he’d said. And then he’d scared her with some nonsense about infection, blah, blah, blah. Unfortunately for her, he had the doctor’s orders to back him up.

  He’d managed to sneak in right before visiting hours were over every day since their sharing session over burgers and fries, keeping her up to date on the non-developments of the case. She loved seeing him, hearing his voice, and looked forward to their time together. But things were different now. He seemed more standoffish since he’d opened up and shared his regrets about his father. It was so frustrating; he’d left in such a hurry the night before having been caught sneaking into her room by the head nurse, she wasn’t sure where they stood. Not to mention the officer they’d stationed outside her door was getting on her last nerve, going above and beyond to make sure protocol and rules were followed.

  She rolled over and pulled the covers above her head, dreading the idea of having to face another day cooped up inside the stuffy hospital walls. The stay, the food, the nurses checking on her throughout the day and night, all of it was about to drive her crazy. Today had to be the day they released her. It had to. She needed to get away, needed to think, not only decide how she wanted to get on with her life, but what she was going to do about Ryker. They’d gotten into a weird place, and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Better she didn’t see him until she’d made up her mind.

  A soft knock sounded on the door, and her heart skipped a beat as she tried to tame her bed hair under the sheet.

  “Ms. McNamee, I’m Dr. Gilbert. May I come in?”

  “Yes.” Disappointment shot to her toes. It wasn’t him. She pulled the covers down to her neck as Dr. Gilbert poked his head through the door. “I hear you’re ready to go home.”

  “You have no idea.” She laughed, unnerved by how unfamiliar the sound came out.

  “I’m the attending physician this morning.” He grinned. “I see here from Dr. Lewis’s notes you’ve had a mild concussion and stitches in your leg.” He glanced from her to the chart in his hands. “No headaches or dizziness today?”

  “No. None at all.” Okay, so maybe she felt a bit faint, but that was probably due to the fact that she was hungry.

  A nurse walked in, and the doctor turned to acknowledge her, and then his attention locked on Joanna. “Let’s check those stitches,” he said, sitting down on the stool.

  With a grimace, Joanna pulled back the covers and slid her gown up on the leg keeping her prisoner to the hospital.

  Dr. Gilbert gently worked to peel back one side of the bandage, eyeing the wound with great interest. “Good, good.” He covered it back up, motioning to the nurse. “Let’s change those bandages. And what about your stomach? No queasiness or loss of appetite?” The stool’s wheels clattered against the tiled floor as he pushed himself back from the bed and studied her over the rim of his glasses.

  “No. Actually I’m starving.” She turned her head as the nurse went to work redressing the wound. They’d used self-dissolving stitches so some areas were more swollen and red than others, making her squeamish. A nasty mix of black, blue, and blood. But at least she wouldn’t have to come back to have them taken out.

  He nodded. Flipping the pages back to the first one on the clipboard in his hands, he scribbled a few lines and then said, “You seem pretty sharp to me. Wound is healing nicely. I see no reason why you can’t leave today, Miss McNamee. I do ask that at the first sign of any discomfort, like headache, stomach problems, or unusual pain in your leg, that you call me immediately.” He gave her a stern look handing her a piece of paper. “This is my officer number.”

  She watched his lips move but didn’t hear a thing past the “no reason why you can’t leave” comment. Biting back the excitement, she almost hopped off the bed.

  Finally.

  Days of his mom’s home cooking and much needed rest and time to consider life had done wonders for Ryker’s physical recovery, but little to appease the knot twisting in his gut.

  He tried to convince himself the only reason he’d checked in on Jo Jo at the hospital the last few days was to see if he could gather more clues about Denise and where she’d run off to. He didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. It had nothing to do with his need to see the woman he found so alluring. Hell, he couldn’t believe he’d told her about Tyler and the accident, about his dad, and how their relationship was dumped in the toilet afterward. She’d caught him off guard, and
he didn’t like it. Why the hell was she so easy to talk to? Those big green eyes drew him in like honey, her kind compassionate nature addictive in so many ways he’d lost control. He’d always had the upper hand in relationships before and finding himself wanting, no needing, to open up to her left him on shaky ground. Damn it. He didn’t want to be so transparent. And he certainly didn’t like being given advice he didn’t ask for.

  For the first time, he was so out of his comfort zone with a woman, he didn’t know what to do.

  It was clear from their conversation she was struggling with what transpired over Keith and beating herself up over it, while still she’d tried to ease his anguish. He needed to give her space to think, to heal, to sort through her emotions and figure out what she wanted.

  But that was easier said than done. She’d slayed his heart with those big green eyes filled with so much determination and grit, and yet not convincing enough to disguise the vulnerability and pain haunting their depths.

  But truth was, after confessing the circumstances of his brother’s death and his father’s scorn and all he’d lost, he wondered whether he deserved a second chance at life. At love.

  He sat with his sore leg stretched out straight under the conference room table not twenty feet from his old desk in the Houston Police Department. He’d ditched the damn sling in the trashcan seconds after he exited the hospital. His arm ached with each move, but he didn’t have time for limited range of motion.

  He inhaled the familiar smell of stale coffee. The rank odor of perspiration emanated from the line of perps sitting along the wall awaiting their turn to be fingerprinted, processed, and booked—all types of filth, corrupt and unclean, both physical and spiritual. Quite a bit different from Bram’s small town crowd with its smell of booze and overly applied cologne. And damned if he didn’t miss it all. His moral core ached to be part of the process again. Putting these lowlifes where they belonged had been his life’s mission, the reason he got out of bed every day.

  Until now.

  Ryker pushed the files from the reopened Black Widow case across the conference table and muttered curses under his breath that they were so close to cracking it. His hands fisted.

  “We’ll take it from here.” Turow grabbed the files and nodded. “You go home. Get some more rest.”

  After hearing Joanna would be released from the hospital later that afternoon, Ryker had driven straight to the Houston Police Department. Checked in with his previous captain, filling him and Detective Turow in further on the details he’d been able to uncover at the hospital about Jo Jo’s strange encounter with the so-called detective earlier that week. Days of checking since he’d originally reported it, and neither of them came up with anything new about a Detective Rayburn, which only confirmed Ryker’s suspicions. His heart kicked up a notch—find this man and he’d find Denise.

  “Contact me if you have any new leads.” Ryker stood and shook Turow’s extended hand and then watched as the man stalked out of the room.

  Without wasting time to obtain insignificant paperwork and manpower like he had the previous days, which only slowed him down, he grabbed his jacket and headed out to his truck. Warrants weren’t necessary to search the local bus terminals or airports on his own. They were public property.

  He smirked. He may be on leave due to his injuries, but he still had the power of the law behind him regardless, not to mention plenty of people who owed him favors.

  If Denise was smart, she’d be lying low, trying not to draw attention to herself. But luck had turned on this woman. She knew they were hot on her heels, closer than they’d ever been to catching her sorry ass. And with Keith gone, getting out of town quickly should be her first priority. But they’d obtained security video from several drug store chains in the area with images resembling the suspects showing otherwise.

  At the red light, his cell phone buzzed on his hip, and he answered it quickly. “Ryker. What’d you find out?”

  On a whim, he’d put in a call to his friend whose wife worked at the travel agency down the street from the hotel where Denise booked a room the night of the Christmas party. Sure enough, a woman matching Denise’s description had stopped by the day before to pick up brochures from the front desk. His friend’s wife didn’t know the exact destinations, but she was checking with the agent who’d talked with Denise. No doubt they’d make their reservations online, but at least this might give them a clue as to where they were headed.

  “Well, this gets really weird.” The woman’s voice morphed into a whisper over the phone. “When I asked about Claire, that’s the agent who helped the customer you’re looking for, it seems she hasn’t come in today. No one’s been able to reach her. It’s like she’s just disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” Ryker’s gut did one of its somersaults, where his lunch threatened to punish him a second time. His mom’s food was good, but a bit on the spicy side for someone recovering. “Do you think this woman, Claire, would have reason to take off?”

  “No. No, I don’t. She’s a new mother. Her baby’s only five months old. She’d never leave her behind. And I talked to her husband. He said she never came home last night. He’s already filed a missing persons report with the police.”

  “Thanks, Sue. I owe you big time. Let me know if you hear anything about Claire’s whereabouts.”

  “This woman you’re searching for? She’s really dangerous, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for her and phone the police if we have any further contact.”

  “Be sure you do. For your own safety,” he said, ending the call.

  He couldn’t believe this turn of events. Maybe Denise was smarter than he gave her credit for. Could she be planning to steal the travel agent’s identity? Use her name to book the reservations. He’d bet his next paycheck the travel agent resembled Denise in some way. What better method to slow down an investigation and throw them off track. Too bad for Denise, he didn’t plan to follow the rules. There was too much at stake. Possibly even a young mother’s life now hanging in the balance.

  “Damn this woman and her blatant disregard for life.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh to keep from punching the seat. She probably kicked puppies around as a child, too.

  When the light turned green, he inhaled deeply to keep from stomping on the accelerator. This woman would not slip though his fingers again, but he’d have to move fast. Working with Keith, she probably already had a contact lined up to get the false documents printed quickly.

  “But Keith’s gone now,” he said to his reflection in the rearview mirror.

  He shook off the sudden chill. Why the hell did the hairs prickle on the back of his neck when he said that out loud? The fire marshal assured the police no one could have made it out of the fire alive. It burned too hot, too quick.

  But an unnerving feeling tugged at the back of his brain and wouldn’t let go. A memory he couldn’t shake—Keith jumping to cover Jo Jo’s body from the debris mere seconds before the explosion.

  That’s what the asshole’s intentions had been, right? To protect her. After moving Keith off her, he’d never looked back at the asshole’s body as he’d pulled her from the building.

  Turning around at the next intersection, he headed back to the warehouse. Or what was left of it. He needed to see the end result of the fire himself.

  As he drove into the parking lot, the charred remnants shocked him. Not a single thing was left standing on the structure. He slowed and eased to a stop. Shit, even the grass around the building had burned to a crisp.

  “Damn it to hell.” He raked his hand through his hair. The idea that Jo Jo and he had almost lost their lives in the blaze really did a number on his psyche. The leveled building, black from soot, still smoked in places. Several firemen walked around the debris, poking and lifting to find hot spots.

  “How’s it looking?” he asked after closing his door behind him and walking over to the edge of the scorc
hed metal. A wall of heat hit him head on.

  “We’ve got it under control for the most part.” The fireman he’d addressed stepped over a mound of debris and greeted Ryker.

  “Left a mess,” Ryker said, shielding his face from a waft of ash stirred up by the breeze. Damn. He couldn’t believe how hot the rubble still was.

  “One of the worst I’ve seen so far.” The fireman took off his glove and extended his hand. “I’m Bennett.”

  “Deputy Ryker Kane.” He took the man’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

  “You the cop they found on the outside that night?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Is it okay if I look around?”

  “You’re one lucky SOB,” the man said with a grunt. “Captain said he got word you might show up. I’m to help you any way I can.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Not much left, but I did find something interesting today.” He strode over to a section of the building less charred than the rest.

  Ryker picked up his limping pace the best he could to keep up with Bennett. “How so?”

  “Well”—Bennett stared down at the ground, poking at a board lying on the concrete floor—“you tell me. What’s this look like to you?”

  Ryker shuffled up beside the man, leaning in to peer under the board. “What the hell? It’s a muddy footprint. A booted footprint.”

  “Yeah, and it’s not the only one.” Bennett pointed his stick toward the opposite side of the rubble. “I found several more over there. I bet if you study the floor plans to this place there’s a door there. Or there was.”

  Ryker let his gaze fall back to the lone footprint on the floor. “Could they have been made prior to the fire?”

  “This one maybe, since it’s on the cement. But the others, no way. They’re on top of a layer of burned boards. If you ask me, another lucky bastard walked out of here before the building collapsed. Probably didn’t make it without being severely burned, but they got out nonetheless. Already sent word of my discovery to the captain. Said he’d check the local hospitals for any John Doe’s with severe burns over the past few days. As far as I know, no luck on that yet.”