“You should be. I was concerned,” Ellen said.
“Well, I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Okay,” Nikki confessed. “I’m hurting like hell, but if I keep faking it, I should get better in about…” Nikki looked at her watch. “Eleven months from now.”
“What happened?” Ellen picked up her diet soda.
“I thought Dallas told you.”
“He told me his side.” She giggled. “Sorry, I know it’s not funny, but it was.”
Nikki gave her the short version and, when Ellen appeared confused, she asked, “What? Was his version different?”
“No, actually that’s exactly how he told it.”
“Then why are you confused?” Nikki turned her drink in her hands.
“Are you sure you’re not letting your past issues cloud your judgment here?’
Nikki frowned. “Have you been conniving with Nana?”
Ellen picked up her soda. “Nikki, you’re mad at a guy because he slept with someone before he met you.”
“No, I’m mad at him because…” Nikki had to work to remember. “He lied.”
“Okay, he should have told you when you asked about surprises, but is hiding one’s sexual past from their new sexual partner a breakup offense? When I was dating—eons ago—I never told my new boyfriend about my old one. I mean, when a guy’s… going there… you don’t want him thinking about another guy having been there.”
“I hate it when you do that!” Nikki dropped her head on the table.
“When I do what?” Ellen asked.
“Make sense.”
Before lunch on Wednesday, Dallas and Tyler were summoned to Brian and Sterns Law Firm by Mr. Sterns. Dallas went but only because Tyler insisted.
Sterns sat behind his oversize desk. “The cops aren’t sharing the information with us that you found. Can we pay you for it?”
“Sorry,” Dallas said.
“How much?” asked Tyler, always wanting data before making a decision.
Sterns named an impressive number, but Tyler didn’t bite. “You know, you had your chance to work with us.”
Sterns frowned. “I can’t believe my partner is still standing behind that murdering, thieving son of his.”
“Actually, we’re not certain Andrew is guilty,” Tyler said. “Of the murder that is. He is definitely a thief. Has a drug problem, and made a couple people sick, but—”
“I thought you were the guys who had him arrested for murder because you’re now banging Leon’s ex.” Mr. Sterns looked at Dallas.
Dallas stood up. “What did you say?”
“Sorry,” Sterns said. “That was a tad crude.”
“It sure as hell was.”
“However,” Tyler continued with his own agenda, “we think the murderer works here.”
“Here?”
“Could be you,” Tyler said. “You see, Leon argued with someone at this office three times the night he was killed. Brian Junior admits to only two of those calls.”
“I told the police I never spoke to Jack Leon that night.”
Five minutes later, not having learned anything more, they started out of Sterns’s office. They got as far as the front door of the building when Rachel Peterson met them. The look in her eyes was one hundred percent pure bitch.
“So you’re screwing Leon’s leftovers, huh?”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Dallas said, trying to play it nice.
Rachel muttered something under her breath and stormed away.
“Damn,” Tyler said, grinning. “She must have really wanted your body.”
Later that afternoon, Dallas and Tyler went to the police station when Andrew Brian was being reinterviewed. They stopped by Tony’s office when he finished talking to the lawyer.
“I don’t get it,” Tony said. “You hand me Brian on a silver platter and now you don’t think he’s guilty.”
Dallas hesitated to answer, but Tyler jumped in. “We’re just saying the guy agreed to do a polygraph,” Tyler said. “And we think you should do it.”
Tony nodded before looking at Dallas, “How’s Nikki?”
Just hearing her name brought Dallas pain. “She still won’t talk to me.”
“Do you want LeAnn to talk to her? They hit it off.”
“I don’t think it’d help.” Then something about the way Tony said his wife’s name seemed different. “You and LeAnn…?” Dallas asked.
A smile parted Tony’s lips. “Yup. She couldn’t resist this body.”
Tyler laughed out loud.
“Congrats,” Dallas said and meant it. One of the O’Connor men deserved to be happy. Or make that two. His father had been hanging out with the Ol’ Timers club. He was even talking about selling his house and moving into the same retirement community.
“Okay,” Tony said, getting back to business. “If Brian didn’t kill Leon, who did?”
“Someone at his office,” Dallas answered. “That third phone call on Wednesday evening is still not accounted for. If they are telling the truth, there was Canton, Sterns, and Brian Senior in the building.”
Tyler sat forward. “Maybe Andrew’s dad figured it out and killed Leon to protect his son?”
Tony sighed. “I guess I could talk to Brian Senior again. But if he killed to protect his son, it doesn’t seem likely he’d let him go to jail.”
Driving back to his place alone, Dallas kept going over everything Brian Junior had said. Something about the story didn’t sit right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Then his mental finger finally pointed out the problem. Brian had said it was Wednesday night when he and Leon had argued. Rachel had specifically told Dallas it had been Tuesday. And if Brian was right, and Rachel had overheard the argument, that meant that she was in the office Wednesday evening. She could have been the person arguing with Leon on the phone. Or perhaps she just had her days mixed up.
Her earlier words rolled through his head. So you’re screwing Leon’s leftovers, huh? The anger in her tone had sounded venomous. Angry enough to kill?
“Shit.” Suddenly it became clear. Everyone said Jack Leon had a problem chasing skirts. Leon had been having a fling with Rachel. When she found out he was trying to win Nikki back, she became furious. After she’d killed Jack, she went after Nikki and got Ellen instead.
Not sure where Nikki was, he grabbed his phone, and called her. She didn’t answer. So he phoned Nana. “Where’s Nikki?”
“The gallery. Crawling back to her on your knees, huh?”
“Yeah.” He hung up, turned the corner and pushed the Mustang as fast it would go.
Nikki missed the call and now stared at Dallas’s number. They needed to talk. She’d accepted that. She’d accepted that perhaps she’d overreacted. Not that it was all on her. Dallas hadn’t been the best communicator, except to make it clear he wasn’t promising anything serious. Still, the man had been her anchor since everything had happened. Thanks to him, she was no longer considered a cold-blooded killer.
He didn’t deserve her scorn. She didn’t deserve to have her heart broken, but that wasn’t exactly his fault. For that reason, she’d decided to apologize—in person—pay him for his services, and say good-bye. As badly as she wanted to believe that they could fix things, it didn’t seem fixable. Yeah, she’d been looking for potholes, and maybe that was her flaw, but no matter how she turned and tried to see things from a different viewpoint, there was one truth that remained. Dallas had been upfront with her from the beginning. He was a one-day-at-a-time guy.
She wanted more. The longer she postponed the inevitable, the harder it would be.
It was gonna hurt like hell, but she’d survive. She’d survived worse. Right?
It didn’t feel like it right now, but time would make it better.
Walking into her office, she picked up the bust that Dallas had said he wanted, to take it her car. The dang thing weighed at least twenty pounds. She was also going to give him the painting of the two boys fish
ing, the one that brought to mind Dallas and Tony. Even if she had to say so herself, it was one of her better works.
She was only a few feet out of her office when someone stepped into the hall from the gallery. Someone wearing a ski mask. Nikki’s breath caught. When she saw the knife in the person’s hand, she let out a scream worthy of a horror film. Too bad no one was around to hear it.
“Bitch.” The attacker, obviously female from her voice, lunged forward. Nikki jumped to the left. The knife scrapped across the plaster-of-paris bust, carving a small chunk out of the right breast.
The attacker muttered a curse, obviously angry that she’d missed her target. Nikki, fear short-circuiting rational thought, was furious about her bust. “This doesn’t belong to me anymore.”
“Neither did Jack, but you took him anyway.” The words seethed from beneath the mask, and the intruder lifted her knife. “I’m sick and tired of men leaving me for someone prettier. First my husband, then Jack. You bitches are all the same, taking whatever you want.”
Nikki backed away. “I didn’t want Jack back.”
“What is it that you have that I don’t?”
A sound mind, Nikki thought, but didn’t say it.
“I tried to just forget about it. But then, even the PI… He was interested in me and then you came along. Why?”
“Dallas?” Nikki asked, now confused.
The woman lunged again. Nikki screamed and used the bust to ward off the knife. The weapon took a chunk out of the bust’s left breast. This time Nikki didn’t care about the artwork, what infuriated her was that this was the person who’d hurt Ellen and killed Jack.
“You’re sick!” Nikki screamed, courage rising unexpectedly from deep inside her.
The woman lunged again. Nikki faked a move to the right then darted left. The knife missed the plaster of paris, and came within millimeters of Nikki’s real bust. Way too close for comfort.
“You wanna piece of me?” Nikki leaped back. “Take this piece.” With all her anger, all her fear, she threw the bust at her attacker.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
The bust slammed into the attacker’s upper chest and head. A loud thunk sounded.
The attacker slammed against the wall. Another loud thunk sounded.
The artwork shattered on the tile floor, one breast went rolling down the hall.
Nikki followed it.
Imagining the knife-wielding woman behind her, Nikki ran with everything she had. She screamed like there was no tomorrow, because frankly she didn’t know if there would be one.
She cut the corner, bolted past the checkout counter, and ran smack-dab into another wall.
A wall of hard, warm muscle. Dallas grabbed her by her shoulders and she saw his gun in one hand.
“You hurt?” His gaze flickered over her and then back to the hall door.
“No.” Her whole body shook.
He pushed her to the side, pointed his gun down the hall and started moving.
“She’s got a knife!”
“I’ve got a gun.” He took another step. Nikki grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Let go.” His dead serious tone brought reason and reality to her mind. Her hands started shaking again, and her knees wobbled.
Dallas, moved past the cashier’s desk, gun held tight. He stopped at the hall door.
“She’s down. Call 911,” he told Nikki.
Forcing herself to move, she bolted for the phone as Dallas moved into the hall. Not wanting to lose sight of him, she snagged the phone and darted to the doorway.
The ski-masked woman lay crumpled on the floor. Dallas kicked the knife away from her hand, knelt and put two fingers to her neck.
“Oh, God. Did I kill her?” Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t catch her breath.
“No.” Dallas looked up. “But call 911. Do it, Nikki.”
An hour later, Nikki sat on the sofa in her office, staring at the wall and focused on breathing. She couldn’t stop shaking. Every few minutes Dallas would look inside to check on her. He smiled, nodded, then left again. The police had arrived. Tony had arrived. The paramedics had arrived. One of them took her blood pressure, made sure she hadn’t been cut then insisted she sit down and focus on breathing. Hence, her being in the office… breathing.
Earlier, Nikki had prayed her attacker would wake up, then when she did, Nikki realized she should be more careful what she prayed for. The woman started fighting. They had to put her in handcuffs. Dallas had already explained who the woman was, and what had motivated her to do this. Rachel confirmed her motivation and even more when she screamed the whole time about her husband cheating on her, leaving her for another woman. Nikki knew how much it hurt to be cheated on, but not once had she considered going on a murdering rampage.
Tony came in and talked to Nikki. He was really nice and when she thanked him for it, he grinned, and asked her to make sure to tell his wife he hadn’t been rude.
Nikki hesitated to ask, but then went for it. “Why did she put Jack’s body in my trunk?”
“The only thing she said was that Jack was in your car trying to find a piece of paper to leave you a note when she found him. I assume Jack had the keys in his hand and your trunk just seemed to be the best place to hide the body.”
When Tony left, Dallas came back in. “Everyone’s gone.” He sat beside her, put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him.
Immediately, Nikki forgot about breathing and started crying. She cried because someone had almost killed her. She cried because she could have killed someone. She cried because the piece of artwork Dallas wanted was shattered all over her hall.
After a while, she stopped crying, but she didn’t pull away. Sitting beside Dallas, his arm around her, her head partially buried on his shoulder, felt good. Right. Safe.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Will you please listen to me?”
She nodded.
“I’ve spent the last five days kicking myself for things I said, for things I didn’t say, and for some things I let happen out of sheer stupidity. I made so many mistakes, Nikki. But I didn’t sleep with anyone since I met you. I did not know Suzan was coming over. Not that it excuses the other things I did.”
Nikki heard his heart racing.
He took a deep breath. “I was scared, Nikki. And after really giving this some thought, I realized, I’m not the only one who’s scared. We were both hurt by people we cared about and that’s hard to move past.”
She pulled back and looked at him. “I was looking for potholes.”
“Potholes?” he asked.
“In the relationship. Nana says I do that. Look for problems until I find one.”
“She probably has a point,” he said. “And I made it easy for you to find one. It’s the hole that I had my head buried in.” He touched her cheek and shook his head. “You were looking for problems, and I was creating them by not admitting to myself how I felt, not wanting to see that I was screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“So we’re both to blame,” Nikki said.
“Yeah. Though, I’m big enough to admit that I probably contributed more than you. I’m surprised you didn’t get my gun and shoot me when Suzan showed up. But yeah, refusing to talk to me, calling my brother on my ass—that might have been a tad much. Not that I didn’t deserve it. But you have no idea how miserable I’ve been these last few days. Forgive me, Nikki. Please.”
Her heart swelled with hope. “We should start all over, try dating, and just see—”
He put a finger over her lips. “No.”
Her chest grew tight.
“I don’t want to start over. I want you back at my place. Bud hasn’t been the same. He’s not eating right. I carried him to the vet and he said he’s depressed. He’s farting like crazy and there’s no one there to laugh with me about it. It’s pathetic.”
She chuckled. “This is supposed to make me want to go back?”
He smiled. “You love Bud. Don’t deny that.”
She took a deep breath and decided to be honest. “He’s not the only thing I love, Dallas. And that scares me because if you don’t feel the same way—”
“For God’s sake, Nikki, what the hell do you think I just said?”
She considered his question. “Saying you want me to share your dog’s farts is not saying you love me.” She laughed.
He dropped his head back on the sofa and laughed with her. Seconds later, he looked at her. “Then let me say it. I love you.” He kissed her nose. “I love all of you. There’s nothing I don’t love about you. The way you talk to yourself. The way you care about your crazy grandmother and her friends. The way you accept people and make everyone happy. Including me. You make me happy, Nikki. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been happy? Oh, and I love your body. I really love your body.”
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
“And my body?” he asked, his blue eyes twinkling with sexy humor.
She laughed again. “I love your body, too.” She pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “No more one-day-at-a-time crap?”
“Oh, hell no.” He pulled her close again. “We’re going for the long haul.”
Zoe Adams has memories of a life that couldn’t be hers… or could it?
Sexy PI Tyler Lopez is helping her unravel the secrets of her past, one by one.
Please turn this page for a preview of
BLAME IT ON TEXAS
CHAPTER ONE
“SPIDERS. DEFINITELY SPIDERS.”
“Don’t forget snakes.”
“Trust me, it’s clowns.” Zoe Adams removed her waitress apron and added her two cents to the conversation the other waitresses of Cookie’s Café were having on their biggest fears. She plopped down on one of the stools lining the breakfast counter, and pulled out her tips to count them. She hoped she had enough to pay the rent. Looking up at the other diner employees, she added, “And considering my regular gig is that of kindergarten teacher, I’ve had to face that fear more times than I care to admit.”
“I’d take a clown over a spider any day of the week,” said Jamie. Like Zoe, she was in her mid-twenties.
Only in Texas Page 35