by Metsy Hingle
“You’re releasing him already?” Kate Wainwright asked Michael as she, Archy and several members of Justin’s family filed into the room.
“I’d better go,” Angela said, and started to get up.
“You stay there,” Justin ordered. Either the command had surprised her or she was shaken because she obeyed him without argument.
“Michael, surely you’re not letting Justin go already,” Kate said. “He was shot, for heaven’s sake.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to take that up with your baby here, Kate,” Michael said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “He’s the one who’s refusing to stay.”
“What do you mean he refuses?” Kate replied, and turned worried eyes upon her son. “Justin?”
“I’m fine, Mother. Michael did a great job of patching me up, and there’s really no reason for me to stay in the hospital.”
Kate’s brow furrowed as it often had when she’d caught him up to mischief as a child. “Michael, is that true?”
“He should be okay, Kate. I’ve already explained that he’ll need to clean the wound daily and take an antibiotic to ward off any infections. If he takes it easy and doesn’t use the arm for a few days, he’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure,” Kate said, a note of skepticism in her voice.
“He’s sure,” Justin told his mother, and snatched the prescriptions that O’Day held out to him. “Two?”
“One’s an antibiotic. The other’s for pain. When the shot I gave you wears off, that thing’s going to hurt like hell—like the devil.”
“Thanks,” Justin told him as Michael left the room to prepare the paperwork. “Now, how about somebody lending me a shirt so I can blow this place?”
“I’ve got one in my truck you can use,” Hawk offered. “Should fit okay.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Justin told him.
Archy stepped forward. “Son, you have any idea who shot you and why?”
Justin rested his hand on Angela’s shoulder, gently squeezed. “I didn’t see his face. But I intend to find him. So don’t worry.”
“You gave us such a scare, Justin,” his mother said, her eyes welling with tears. “Why, when I saw you lying on that terrace, I thought…”
Her sobs sent guilt ripping through him. “I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it.
“Come on now, Kate,” Archy said, taking her hand in a comforting gesture. “The boy’s all right.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, swiping at the tears.
Hawk returned and this time Jenny was with him. “Here’s that shirt.”
“Thanks,” Justin said, and took the chambray work shirt from him. When he began to slide it over his injured arm, Angela assisted him. Tender from the movement, he fastened only a handful of buttons. “I’ll be sure to return it.”
Hawk nodded.
“Okay, Wainwright, you’re a free man,” Michael said as he returned to the room. “The nurse will be here in a minute with a wheelchair to wheel you out.”
“I can walk,” Justin argued.
“Hospital policy, I’m afraid. You get a ride to the front door.” Michael turned to Archy. “Is he going to ride with you, Archy?”
“Sure, I—”
“Actually, I’m not going to the ranch,” Justin informed them all. “I’ll be staying at Angela’s.”
It had taken Angela several moments before Justin’s announcement sank in. By the time it had, he had been charging ahead and issuing commands like a field marshal. He’d gotten Hawk to give them a ride to her condo, made arrangements to have his truck and some of his things from the ranch delivered to her place, and given orders to his deputies about the pursuit of the shooter.
Now nearly two hours later they were alone for the first time. “You might have at least asked me before announcing to your family that you were going to stay here,” Angela told him.
“If I’d asked, you would have said no.”
It was true, Angela admitted. “All the more reason you shouldn’t have done it. You know how your family feels about me.”
“Yeah, I know. But I wonder if you do,” Justin countered. “You always thought my parents didn’t like you because they were against our getting married. But the truth is you never gave them a chance.”
“That’s not true. I like your parents. I always have. But we both know that I didn’t fit their ideal as a daughter-in-law.” She’d been all too aware of the debutante daughter of a neighboring oilman that they had picked out as a potential wife for Justin. She had been a far cry from what they’d wanted for their son.
“Maybe not, but you’re the woman I chose and they accepted you. But, then, you probably didn’t notice because you were too busy building invisible walls around yourself, the ones you use to keep everyone out so that you can make sure nobody ever hurts you again. Maybe if you hadn’t shut my folks out, they would have even loved you. But, then, I loved you and in the end you shut me out, too.”
Taken aback by his accusation, Angela started to argue that he was wrong. But the protest died on her lips as she wondered if Justin was right. Had she shut out the Wainwrights and Justin as he’d claimed?
“I don’t even know why we’re discussing this. It doesn’t make any difference now, anyway,” he told her, his voice filled with agitation. He walked over to the bar, poured himself some water and used it to chase down what she suspected was one of the pain pills Michael had given him from the hospital pharmacy until he could get the prescriptions filled in the morning. “I’ll explain everything to my folks when all of this is over and you go back to San Antonio. But for now I want everyone in this county to know that I’m staying here.”
“Why?”
“Because I want the person who tried to kill you tonight to know that you’re not alone. That way if he has any plans to come after you again, he’ll know that he has to get through me first.”
“I see,” she murmured. “So you’re here in your capacity as Sheriff of Lone Star County to protect me.”
“That’s right. This is business, Angela. Nothing else.”
The coolness in his voice matched the coolness in his eyes. And hurt so much more than she’d ever dreamed it could. It was hard to believe that in the space of twenty-four hours they had gone from being lovers to polite strangers. “I understand,” she said. And she did. Justin would tolerate her presence, even risk his own life to protect her. But it was strictly part of the job. Just as soon as they found Lena, he wanted her to pack her bags and get out of his town and his life.
He sank down onto the couch. “That pain pill is starting to kick in. Before my brain fuzzes over, I need to know if you have any idea who might want you dead.”
“You mean besides you?”
Justin scowled at her. “Considering that I took a bullet for you a few hours ago, I think we can rule me out.”
Ashamed that her hurt and anger had made her so petty, she said, “I’m sorry. That was very small of me when you saved my life.”
“Forget it,” he said. “Now, I need you to think. Were you working on anything before you came here that would cause someone to put a contract out on you?”
“No. I’ve been working kidnapping cases primarily for the past year or so. Mostly children. Several situations resulted in jail time for the perpetrators, but none are eligible for parole for a long, long time.”
“All right,” he said, and Angela could see him digesting that info. “Then it means the hit was generated by someone local.”
“I haven’t been back here long enough to generate that kind of dislike,” she countered. Except from him, she added silently.
“A number of people know you’re here working on the kidnapping. But except for the Carsons and Luke Callaghan, you haven’t had time to ruffle any feathers with questions. So that leaves your association with Ricky Mercado. You’ve been seen in his company several times since you came back.”
“I’ve been seen in your company, too,” she pointed out. “And cons
idering our history and your very vocal objection to my presence in Mission Creek a few days ago, if I was going to look for a suspect based on such flimsy evidence then you’re a much better bet.”
Justin glared at her. “I was thinking more in terms of someone who might have an ax to grind with Ricky.”
Angela refused to defend her friendship with Ricky again. If after sharing her bed and her heart with Justin last night he still didn’t believe her, he never would. And she wasn’t going to put herself through the heartache of trying to convince him. “Why would someone who has a problem with Ricky come after me?”
“Maybe because they think you’re more than friends. And maybe because they’re worried he’s told you something he shouldn’t have.”
Tired of the game and innuendos, she said, “All right, Justin. Why don’t you just cut to the chase and tell me where you’re going with this?”
“All right.” He set down the water glass and leaned back against the chair. “Word on the street is that the Mercado family is about to make a really big score of some kind. I’m thinking that maybe Ricky said something to you in passing about this deal, and word got back to Del Brio about the slip. Del Brio’s major paranoid. He has a thing about secrets. Even if he just thought you knew something you shouldn’t and were a threat to him, he’d have you taken out.”
“There’s one problem with your theory. Ricky hasn’t told me anything about any deal, big or otherwise. The truth is he speaks very little about his family’s business. And on those few occasions when Del Brio’s name has come up, it’s not with fondness. Ricky doesn’t like him or trust him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, take tonight, for instance. Ricky said the only reason he was going to the fund-raiser was to keep an eye on Del Brio because he thought he was up to something.”
Justin gave her a considering look. “There’s been some tension between Del Brio and Johnny Mercado. And for a while I thought there might be some trouble over Del Brio succeeding Carmine instead of Ricky. But there’s no rumor of any schism or overthrow in the works, and as far as I can tell, Ricky has been firmly in Del Brio’s corner since he came back to Lone Star County. According to my sources, Ricky’s one of Del Brio’s top lieutenants—which means he’s up to his eyeballs in whatever this deal is that’s supposed to go down.”
“Like I said, I wouldn’t know. Ricky’s never said anything about any deals to me. The only thing he’s talked about is his father.”
“What does he say about him?”
“Mostly that he’s worried about him. He says Mr. Mercado has been acting strange lately.”
“Strange in what way?” Justin asked.
“Some of the things he says, mainly. Like the other night at the hospital dedication, he said something about how if he had protected his wife, she’d still be alive.”
“Isadora died of a heart attack,” Justin pointed out.
“I know. That’s what Ricky said. But Ricky says his father’s saying things like that, things that don’t make sense, and that lately he’s been acting secretive.”
“Did he tell you anything else?” Justin asked.
“Only what I’ve already told you. That he and his father both think there’s something to Del Brio’s story that Haley is still alive. And both of them think that Lena might belong to Haley. Ricky believes it’s the reason the little girl was kidnapped from the Carsons.”
“Ricky is smarter than I’d given him credit for,” Justin told her. “I suppose you told him we were pursuing that angle?”
“No, I didn’t,” she told him, hurt and angry that he would assume she’d broken her word. “I told you that I wouldn’t discuss the case with Ricky, and I haven’t. Believe it or not, I try to live up to my word.”
A slight flush tinted his cheeks. Angela couldn’t help being pleased to see a little more color in his face—even if the source of it was only embarrassment or irritation with her. While he no longer looked gray, as he had following the shooting, Justin also was a far cry from healthy. He looked tired and in pain. But she was sure if she suggested he get some rest, he would ignore her.
“Anyway, this stuff about Haley and the baby being hers, I think we were right. One of the reasons I tried to reach you today was to tell you that I found a connection linking Carl Bridges to a woman in London with a baby girl. Dylan Bridges was able to recover some e-mail exchanges between Carl and the woman, and it’s a pretty safe bet that the woman was Haley using an alias. Carl warned her to be careful. It looks like he might have been murdered because he wouldn’t give up her whereabouts. She was worried and scared, and after Carl didn’t answer her last few messages, she apparently disappeared. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find out where she is or even what name she’s using now.”
“She’s here, Justin,” Angela told him. “She’s here in Lone Star County. I’m sure of it.” And she was. Angela knew instantly that Haley was there.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because she would have wanted to make sure her baby was all right. Think about it,” she urged him. “It fits everything we already know. She would have known Luke was her baby’s father, even if Luke didn’t. If she was in trouble, she would have wanted her baby to be safe. Who could protect her child better than a man like Luke with his money and his connections?”
“All right, I’m listening.”
“If Carl Bridges was helping her, he would have known about Luke’s Sunday golf ritual. He may even have been the one to suggest leaving the baby on the golf course with a note for Luke. Only no one counted on Luke being away and the sprinkler system smearing the note so that Luke’s name couldn’t be read. So everything went wrong. But she wouldn’t have left town until she was sure Lena was safely with her father.”
“And with Carl Bridges dead, the only way for her to be sure that happened was for her to remain in Lone Star County.”
“Exactly,” Angela replied.
“If she’s here, she’d have to be wearing a hell of a disguise to go unnoticed. Even the people who didn’t know Haley well would remember seeing her picture splashed across the newspapers and TV during the trial.”
“It’s not all that difficult for a woman to change her appearance if she wants to. With a change of hair color, a new hairstyle, some colored contact lenses, the right makeup and clothes, I could walk through that door and you’d never know it was me.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I am,” she told him with a certainty that she felt in her bones. “Haley’s somewhere in Lone Star County, Justin. I know it.”
“You know what we haven’t considered is that when Luke stayed away from Mission Creek for as long as he did that Haley might have decided to kidnap the little girl herself. That would explain there being no ransom note.”
Angela thought about the fear Lena had experienced when she’d been snatched and drugged. She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t Haley. It wasn’t Lena’s mother.”
“Then it comes back to Del Brio again. If he suspected Lena belonged to Haley, he might have swiped her to use as a bargaining chip or to flush Haley out.”
“That’s my guess. From what I remember of him and everything I’ve heard about him since I’ve been back, he would fit the profile of the kidnapper.”
Justin scrubbed a hand down his face, and Angela suspected he was fighting the dulling effects of the pain pill in order to remain alert. “All right, let’s see what we’ve got, then. First, we have Carl Bridges murdered by a hit man presumably because he was trying to protect Haley Mercado. Second,” he said, holding up a second finger, “we have Haley Mercado, who’s supposed to be dead, only she’s alive and running around Lone Star County disguised as God knows who.”
Holding up another finger, he continued. “Third, we have Haley’s baby, whose father turns out to be Luke Callaghan, the result of a one-night stand with a woman he didn’t know. Fourth,” he added, ticking off another digit, “we have th
at same little girl kidnapped and probably being held somewhere by that sociopath Del Brio in order to flush Haley out.”
“And finally,” he said, his voice filled with exasperation or exhaustion or both, “we have someone trying to kill you, but we don’t know who or why. Does that about cover it?”
“Actually, I think the person after me is the same person behind Carl Bridges’s murder and Lena’s kidnapping.”
“Del Brio?”
Angela nodded.
“I’ll admit the guy’s a psycho and he’s probably nervous if he knows you’re working the kidnapping case. But it seems a bit extreme, even for Del Brio, to take a hit out on you at this stage. You’ve only been on the case a few days, and all you have is sketches and speculation. That’s a long way from finding out where the girl is being held.”
“But maybe I’m close.”
“You mean the drawings?” Justin replied. “I tried to tell you that there are a lot of places that fit that picture.”
“I know. I got a listing and started checking them out today.”
“What?” he countered, instantly alert, his body tense. “This is my investigation, dammit. And I told you not to go off on your own.”
“This is our investigation,” she corrected him. “And if you learned nothing else about me during the time we were married, you should have learned that I don’t take orders.”
Justin clenched his hands into fists. The look he gave her was as hard as steel. “Suppose I hadn’t been there tonight on that terrace when that gunman came looking for you? Do you have any idea what would have happened?”
“I’d probably be dead now and you wouldn’t have a hole in your shoulder,” she replied truthfully. “It was a very brave and foolish thing that you did tonight, Justin. I’ve already thanked you once but I’ll say it again. Thank you for saving my life.”
“I don’t want your damn gratitude. I want you off this case.”
“That, I’m afraid, is not going to happen.”
“Why are you being so stupid about this? Are you that eager to get yourself killed? Or is it because you know I don’t want you here or on this case, and it’s your way of showing me that what I want doesn’t count?”