Only in Texas

by Christie Craig

  Detective Clark’s voice carried. “Come on, pay up. You put twenty bucks on her being guilty. I made it clear, if we were still looking for leads in twenty-four hours, then we would declare it a nonguilty bet.”

  Nikki tried to digest what she’d just heard. She didn’t know what upset her more—that the cops were taking bets on her guilt or innocence or that Dallas had put money on her being guilty. Guilty?

  I believe you. You know that, right? His words, spoken less than ten minutes ago, resounded in her head. She stared at the two men and waited for Dallas to deny it. Instead, he reached for his wallet.

  Her chest grew heavy.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d bet on anything else. Like the possibility of him getting her naked. Was that all she was to him? A bet?

  Reaching into her purse she snatched one of the twenties she’d taken from her emergency stash at the gallery, and hotfooted it over to Dallas and his cop buddy-bookie.

  “Allow me.” She glared at Dallas as she slapped the twenty into the detective’s palm. Then, chin held high, she dropped into a nearby chair.

  Dallas said something to the detective and the man left in a huff. Then Dallas came and sat down in the chair beside her. The side of his knee brushed against hers and emotional pain shot up her leg and punched her heart.

  Staring straight ahead, she shifted over, refusing to look at him. But she could feel his blue-eyed gaze on her.

  “Nikki?”

  Distance. She needed some distance.

  “At least look at me. That wasn’t what it sounded like.”

  The tightness in her chest grew tighter. She wanted to believe him. “Really?” she asked.

  “I swear,” he said.

  She tried to figure out how she could have misunderstood their conversation, but her figuring-out ability didn’t offer up any possibilities.

  When she didn’t say anything else, he released a heavy sigh. “I…”

  Swearing on everything holy that she was not going to break down, that she wouldn’t let him see how much this stupid bet of his had hurt her, she forced herself to ask, “Did you make the bet?”

  Regret filled his eyes. He looked poised to say something, but didn’t. More importantly, he didn’t deny it.

  She tried to swallow the knot of hurt down her throat. It was stupid that this man’s opinion, a man she hardly knew, could matter to her.

  But it did.

  It mattered a lot.

  “You did make the bet, didn’t you?”

  He ran a palm over his face. “It happened right when I stumbled on the scene.” He hesitated as if searching for the right words to say. “You hadn’t even puked on me yet.” He smiled as if humor would fix everything.

  It didn’t fix it. Her chest remained tight. She was just tired, she told herself, on emotional overload; later she would see how unimportant all this was.

  But this wasn’t later, and right now she had to get through this interview with Detective O’Connor. So she stiffened her spine.

  “I was on the phone when Clark started the whole bet nonsense and I wasn’t—”

  “It’s not important.” She glanced away and told herself it wouldn’t matter as soon as she got distance between herself and him. He reached for her hand, and a jolt of raw emotion came with his touch. She jerked away.

  She felt him staring—heard him let out a gulp of air as if exasperated.

  Then she heard a familiar voice from the doorway. A familiar, angry voice. She glanced up. Mrs. Leon—Jack’s mother—passed by the door, and was giving someone hell. Detective O’Connor, from the looks of it.

  He glanced her way. Mrs. Leon didn’t. Realizing what a scene the woman could cause if she knew Nikki was here, she didn’t move. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on not crying.

  A minute or two passed until Dallas spoke up again. “It is important. Look, Nikki—”

  “Hey,” the deep male voice came from across the room. She looked up at Detective O’Connor, thankful Mrs. Leon had gone. “Sorry, I held you up.”

  Nikki stood up. She felt Dallas beside her. “We’ll talk about this later,” he whispered.

  Or not, Nikki thought.

  The questions were grueling—over an hour of continuous gruel. Nikki was so tired. Tony wanted to know everything, from the name of Nikki’s employee Jack had screwed on her antique sofa, to what the burglar had taken from her place. Dallas had cut him off several times, demanding he tone it down. When the detective asked about Nikki’s missing computer, Dallas had slapped the paperwork from the pawnshop on the table and scowled at his brother.

  That didn’t slow Tony down, though. His questions grew more personal. “Why were you meeting your ex-husband for dinner?”

  She told him the truth. “I thought I could go back with him, but when I saw him, I couldn’t do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t love him, and I couldn’t forgive him.”

  “So you were angry.”

  “Yes. No. I mean, I never really got angry at him before.”

  “You caught him screwing your employee and you weren’t angry?”

  “I was hurt. But when I saw him at the restaurant, that’s when I got angry.”

  The detective leaned forward. “Angry enough to kill him?”

  She blinked. “I’m not a killer.”

  “Did you know you were the beneficiary of his life insurance? How long had you been planning on killing him? Since you didn’t get the alimony you asked for in the divorce settlement?”

  Nikki’s backbone finally stiffened. “Jack set that insurance policy up when we got married. He also had one for the same amount on me. It was set up through his work, so I thought he’d cancel it. And I never asked for alimony. I signed the papers he handed me. I wouldn’t let my lawyer fight it because I wanted it to be over.”

  Detective O’Connor eyed her with such intensity she felt like running. “You know we can request the court records and find out if you’re lying.”

  “Maybe if you’d done that already I wouldn’t have to go through this. I didn’t kill Jack. I don’t know why you refuse to believe me.”

  “You mean other than the fact that his body was found in your car after you told two people you were going to kill him?”

  “Yeah… other than that.” Feeling defeated, she dropped her head down on the table and swallowed hard to keep from weeping.

  When she rose back up, he continued. “The Leons believe you killed their son for the insurance because you didn’t get the alimony.” His voice carried less conviction than before.

  She forced words through her tight throat. “I know. I spoke with Mrs. Leon this morning. I have no idea why they think that. Except maybe… Jack lied to them. He placated his parents. Told them what they wanted to hear. I’m sure he wouldn’t have told the truth of why we were divorcing. They never thought I was good enough for Jack. So maybe he made up a story for them.”

  The detective remained stoic for a few seconds. “I’m not sure anyone would have been good enough for them.”

  Nikki was so shocked at his statement she couldn’t respond.

  Dallas reached under the table and squeezed her hand. She pulled away.

  “Tell him about the phone calls,” Dallas said.

  “What phone calls?” the detective asked.

  Nikki told the detective about Jack arguing with someone on the phone at the restaurant. After that, the questions became less accusing and more about wanting insight into Jack. Many of the inquiries were the same ones Dallas asked over lunch, which made answering easier. She wondered if Dallas had done that on purpose.

  After another ten or fifteen minutes of questions, Detective O’Connor stood up. “I appreciate you coming in, Ms. Hunt. We’re done for now.”

  “My car?” she asked, and tried to keep the image of Jack in her trunk out of her mind, but it came anyway. She saw Jack’s eyes open, empty, staring up at her from her trunk.

  �
��Maybe tomorrow,” the detective said.

  Maybe tomorrow she’d be able to stop seeing flashes of her ex. Maybe tomorrow she’d understand why the hell all this was happening. Maybe tomorrow she’d be able to look at Dallas O’Connor and not want to beg him to hold her and help her forget.

  “I need a word with you,” Dallas said to his brother, then looked back at Nikki. “About another case. Can you give us a minute?”

  She started out but as she got to the door, the detective spoke up again. “Ms. Hunt?”

  Nikki glanced back.

  “You’re not under arrest, but I have to tell you not to leave town. The investigation is still ongoing.”

  Dallas studied Nikki. From the angst in her blue eyes, he knew how hard the interview had been on her. He could also tell she was still pissed at him over the bet thing.

  Not that he blamed her.

  From her perspective he came off looking like a jerk; from his perspective… he still looked like a jerk… but it had happened so fast. He hadn’t been thinking and less than a minute after he’d done it, he was mentally kicking himself in the ass. Which was part of the reason he jumped on the case. So in the end, his being a jerk was the reason he was helping her. He wasn’t sure how he was going to work all that into an apology, but he’d try. She had to understand, right?

  Her eyes met his briefly, hurt and rejection playing in her baby blues, and then she walked out. Okay, so maybe the understanding wasn’t going to happen all that fast. But damn it, he was on her side. She had to know that.

  Dallas looked back at his brother. “Who was Leon talking to at the restaurant?”

  “I’ll have to check.”

  “Come on, Tony.”

  His brother hesitated. “The only people who spoke to him on that last day were Ellen Wise, his parents, and his office.”

  “Andrew Brian from his office has a motive,” Dallas said.

  “What would that be?”

  “They were both being looked at for partner.”

  “And you know this how?” Tony asked.

  “Connections.”

  “What connections?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Tony stared him dead in the eyes.

  “Fine,” Dallas said. “It’s a courthouse rumor. But I’m looking into it and I’m sharing it with you. And I expect you to share with me.”

  “Don’t get in my way. This is my case.”

  “It’s mine, too.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She’s innocent, Tony.”

  The stress lines on his brother’s face deepened. “I’m leaning that way myself,” he said. “But I need something… something more than rumors. Right now, every new piece of information coming in is screaming that she’s guilty. Then there’re the vic’s parents, screaming at my boss to arrest her.”

  Dallas threaded his hand through his hair. “What about Ellen Wise? You know Nikki couldn’t have done that.”

  “I know, but I heard about an hour ago that it wasn’t the same knife in both cases.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely different weapons. CSU said they weren’t even close. And different weapons could mean different perps. It could mean they aren’t even—”

  “You know these two are connected.”

  Tony closed his eyes for a second. “Do I think they’re connected? Yes. Do I think they were done by the same perp? Yes. Can I prove it? No. Right now, I have a dead man in the trunk of his ex-wife’s car and two witnesses that will testify that she said she wanted to kill him. I need something else or I’m going to have to arrest her.”

  Dallas’s gut knotted. “Get the court records of the divorce. At least that will weaken the Leons’ story and maybe hold off your boss.”

  “I will, but I need more.”

  “I’ll get it.” Dallas decided to share a concern that had been gnawing at him since he’d met Ellen at the hospital. “You met Ellen Wise, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “She fits the same physical description as Nikki. Blond, petite, pretty.”

  “What? You’re going to go after them both?” Tony asked, and half-ass smiled.

  “No. I’m wondering if whoever attacked Ellen thought she was Nikki?”

  Tony’s brow crinkled. “That’s a possibility, but until we have a reason for any of this to have gone down, how is it going help us?”

  “It helps me know that someone needs to watch out for her.”

  Dallas started to get up, but remembered what else he needed to talk to Tony about.

  “Wait,” Tony said, before Dallas spoke up. His brother passed a palm over his face. “Your other client… the Nance kid.”

  “I was just about to mention that.” Dallas pulled out the copy of an old newspaper article that Austin had brought him at the hospital.

  “Can you get the kid down here for Clark to talk to him?”

  “You’re going to try to pin last night’s convenience store case on him?” Dallas didn’t believe it. “Don’t even tell me the second shooting victim identified him.”

  “The second victim died about an hour ago,” Tony said. “And I’m not trying to pin it on him, I want to eliminate him as a suspect.”

  “How? I’m sure if you spoke with your buddy Detective Shane you’d know the kid was at home. Unfortunately, only his grandmother was there and she was asleep.”

  “I haven’t heard that,” Tony said, frustration heavy in his voice. “But it appears our perp from last night took a good hit with a baseball bat. If your boy doesn’t have any marks on him, it might shed some new light on both cases.”

  Dallas studied his brother. “Does Shane know you’re doing this?”

  “No… not yet. I’m just eliminating suspects.”

  Dallas knew his brother was throwing him a bone. He appreciated it, but he still had to deliver the news. “Shane’s out to get the kid.”

  “He’s just doing his job,” Tony defended him. “The reason I’m doing this is—”

  “No.” Dallas handed Tony the proof that Austin had brought to the hospital.

  “What’s this?”

  “Remember a few years back there was a drive-by shooting in Houston, and Shane’s nephew was paralyzed? The main suspect, who they couldn’t get enough evidence on to make the charge stick, was Nance’s older brother. Shane wants to take Nance down for personal reasons. Somebody has to stop him.”

  “Whoa. You think Shane purposely went after Nance for this?”

  “No, but I think once he realized who Nance was, he was dead set on bringing him down, and he didn’t care what the evidence said. Someone on the inside needs to call Shane on this. Or we’ll be forced to take it public.”

  Tony looked at the paper and his stress lines deepened. “Fuck. I don’t want to deal with this.”

  “And Nance doesn’t want to go down for something he didn’t do, either.”

  Tony groaned. “Bring the kid in tomorrow. I’ll talk to him myself.”

  “And Shane?”

  “I’ll deal with that, too. Might as well piss him off really good.”

  “Thanks.” Dallas noticed his brother’s tired eyes. “You haven’t been to bed at all, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Is that why you told Dad you couldn’t do dinner?”

  “No, I’m moving tonight.”

  “Moving where?”

  “Back home.”

  Contentment filled Tony’s voice, and Dallas expected there would be more if…“You and LeAnn made up?”

  “No.” Tony’s ever-present stress lines deepened. “She served me divorce papers.”

  “I don’t understand,” Dallas said.

  “What’s not to understand? She wants a divorce and I don’t. So I’m moving back home to prove to her it’s a bad idea.”

  Dallas held up his hands. “Maybe you should get some sleep, think about this before—”

  “I’m done thinking, it’s time to act.”

  Dallas shrugge
d and started to leave.

  “Hey.” Tony’s voice stopped him again.

  “Yeah?”

  “Since we’re dealing out advice, let me offer this. Don’t fall too hard for Nikki until the smoke clears.”

  “Yeah,” Dallas said, but he wondered if the jittery feeling in his gut wasn’t from the free fall he’d already taken.

  Leaving his brother’s office, he went to find Nikki, intending to do some serious groveling. He went to the waiting room. She wasn’t there.

  He walked outside into the main hall. She wasn’t there. He shot off to the restrooms. A woman was entering the ladies’ room, but Dallas stopped her. “I’ve lost someone. Can you check and see if anyone is in there?”

  “Sure.” She walked in and returned seconds later. “It’s empty.”

  Getting a bad feeling, Dallas stormed back into Tony’s office. “Do you have Nikki’s cell number?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “She’s gone.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NIKKI’S CELL PHONE rang again.

  “You gonna answer that?” Nana asked, as she stopped her Toyota at a red light. Nikki looked into Nana’s worried eyes. Her grandmother had been worried ever since she’d picked Nikki up at the police station ten minutes ago.

  “I didn’t recognize the number,” she told Nana.

  “Someone must really want to talk to you to call three times.”

  “Probably a sales call.” Or Dallas. Not that he had her cell number, but she’d given it to Tony. Nevertheless, she really didn’t want to talk to Dallas.

  Distance.

  In a day or so, when she’d gotten over the shock of everything, gotten over the fact that he’d wagered on her being guilty, when she realized she didn’t need to depend on a stranger for emotional support, then she’d meet with him.

  She picked up her cell and looked at the call log again. “Oh crappers,” she muttered.

  “Crappers, what?” Nana asked.

  “It’s the Miller Police Department.” Which meant it could be Dallas or his brother. Ignoring Dallas was one thing. Ignoring the cop who suspected her of murder was another.