Stranded With the Detective

by LENA DIAZ,

  Shane still had his gun in his hand from when he was pointing it at Piper. It was down at his side, aimed toward the ground. His body was still, like a deer poised for flight. But his eyes were busy, scanning everything around him. He was doing the same thing that Piper had done a few minutes earlier. Weighing his options.

  “Toss the gun,” Colby ordered.

  Still Shane hesitated.

  Piper held her breath, the tension so thick it seemed to be choking her.

  Shane’s gaze flicked past her, then he smiled and tossed the gun down. Not far enough away for Piper’s peace of mind.

  “You’re tougher than you look, cop. Maybe I should have listened to my guy’s excuses up in the mountain after all instead of killing him for screwing up. But then I had to kill both of them anyway to keep all my secrets safe.”

  The sound of his callous laughter over killing people made Piper’s stomach clench with nausea.

  “Are you okay?” Colby asked her without taking his gaze off Shane.

  “Yes.” She bit her lip to keep from asking the obvious next question: Was he okay? She didn’t want to do anything that might turn his attention, or worse, make Shane think that Colby wasn’t able to follow through with his threat to shoot him or control the situation.

  “Get down on your knees, Shane. Lock your hands together behind your head.”

  Shane laughed. “You got some handcuffs from that stupid deputy? Is that what you’re gonna do? Cuff me?”

  “On your knees.”

  Shane’s eyes narrowed and his smile turned feral. “And if I don’t? You gonna shoot an unarmed man?”

  “If I have to, yes.”

  Shane blinked. For the first time since she’d met him, Piper saw a look of fear pass over his face. But he quickly disguised it with his usual look of contempt.

  “Okay, fine. I’m getting down on my knees, cop.” He made a show of grunting and groaning as if he had arthritic legs as he lowered himself to the ground. “There, happy?”

  “Hands behind your head.”

  Shane let out an exaggerated sigh and did as Colby told him. “You gonna cuff me now?”

  “Piper,” Colby said. “Come here. Stay to the far left, away from Shane.”

  She pulled herself out of the hole and scrambled up the pile of debris toward the left side of the ruined stall.

  Chh-chh.

  She froze at the deadly sound she’d heard in so many action movies over the years, the sound of a shotgun being pumped. Very slowly, she looked to her left. Standing in the aisle, out of sight from Colby, was a man pointing a long, terrifying-looking gun at her. A man whom she and Colby had both spoken to just hours earlier.

  Mr. Wilkerson.

  “I don’t want to kill you, Miss Caraway. But I can’t let your boyfriend kill that disgusting slimeball, even if he is my stupid bastard son.”

  His son? His illegitimate son?

  Piper blinked in shock, glancing between son and father. There was no resemblance that she could see. But if Shane really was his son, then she finally had her answer for how he’d met her mom and dad. He must have been at the Wilkerson place at some time and her mom had insisted on taking over those now-infamous homemade cookies to welcome him. She blinked again. That was it—that boy who’d been next door during the summer for a few short weeks all those years ago. His name wasn’t Dwayne as she’d thought while recounting the story to Colby. It was Shane.

  He was the dark-haired nephew, only he wasn’t a nephew. He was a son. And the Wilkersons hadn’t wanted anyone to know. Because he wasn’t Mrs. Wilkerson’s son. What in the world had happened? Had they reluctantly taken him in for a few weeks, then shipped him off somewhere to keep his existence a secret?

  “Detective,” Mr. Wilkerson said. “Lower your weapon and let Shane go or I’m going to have to unload my shotgun into Miss Caraway.”

  She looked at Colby, a single tear spilling down her cheek. Fear wrapped its cold fingers around her heart and squeezed. But it wasn’t fear for herself. It was for Colby. Because he was an honorable, wonderful man, a man she loved with all her heart. And she was terrified about what might happen to him.

  “Don’t do it, Colby. Don’t lower your gun. Please. Just let me die. I beg you. Don’t do it.”

  His jaw tightened and he looked at Shane, who was still on his knees, facing away from him, hands locked behind his head. Waiting, as they all were.

  Piper let out a big sob and made a show of twisting and pulling at her shirt as if it was stuck on some debris. She wiped her eyes with her shirt, then tilted her right hand just enough to reveal to Colby the knife that she’d just slid out of her pocket.

  His eyes widened, then he gave his head an almost-imperceptible shake. The meaning was clear. No. Don’t risk it.

  She nodded yes as she wiped her eyes.

  Colby frowned and shook his head again.

  She glanced at Shane and let out another sob, still pulling at her shirt. The tears were real. She was terrified that Colby was about to be killed.

  “Shane?” Wilkerson called out, keeping his gun pointed at her.

  Piper popped the knife open, staring into Colby’s eyes.

  Shane looked over his shoulder at Colby.

  Colby looked at Piper and let his pistol fall to the ground. “Let her go, Wilkerson. I dropped my gun.” And then, as if accepting that he had no choice but to trust her since she was obviously going to make a move anyway, he nodded.

  “He dropped it,” Shane confirmed, chuckling as he leaned over, reaching for his gun on the ground.

  Wilkerson lowered the shotgun.

  “Now!” Piper dropped her shirt and raised her knife. Colby and Shane both dived for their guns. Wilkerson’s shotgun swung up as Piper threw her knife, as hard and straight as she could, just like her daddy had taught her all those years ago.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  Gunshots sounded from the opening in the ruined wall.

  A guttural scream came from outside.

  Old man Wilkerson dropped to his knees in the aisle, eyes wide with shock as he clawed at the knife handle buried in his throat.

  Piper covered her mouth, both grateful and horrified that her aim was true.

  Wilkerson’s hands fell to his sides and he tumbled against the wall, then slid to the floor, dead.

  Hands grabbed Piper’s shoulders from behind.

  “No!” She kicked out, twisting, trying to get away.

  “Piper! It’s me, Colby.”

  She looked over her shoulder at his beloved, beautiful face. “Colby.” She sobbed, then climbed to her feet and turned, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Colby.” She buried her face against his chest, barely registering what she’d seen behind him as she’d turned—Shane, lying on his back on the ground, his gun clutched in his hand, his sightless eyes staring up at the moon overhead.

  “You’re okay,” she whispered. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  “You took a terrible risk with your life.” His voice sounded oddly strained and weak. “Don’t ever do that again.” He hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. Then his arms went slack and he fell backward.

  Piper blinked in shock. He lay like a marionette whose strings had been cut, his legs at an awkward angle beneath him.

  “Colby!” She scrambled to him and ran her hands over his body, searching for injuries.

  Shouts sounded from outside. Footsteps pounded on the ground.

  “Colby? Where are you hurt?” She shook him. “Colby!”

  Dillon and Blake were suddenly standing in the ruined opening of the outer walls of the stall, guns drawn, their chests heaving from exertion.

  “Is there anyone else out here?” Dillon demanded, his frown creasing with worry as he stared at Colby.

  “No. It’s just us. I don’t know what’s wrong with
him. There was an explosion. He was thrown, and there were so many gunshots. I don’t know if... Help him. Please help him.”

  Dillon motioned to Blake. “Go. Get an ambulance. Get a chopper out here. Hurry.”

  Blake took off running.

  Dillon leaped over the hole in the floor and dropped to his knees beside Colby.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Piper had to force herself not to interfere as the male nurse assisted Colby from the wheelchair into the rental car over a week after the debacle at her ranch. Her earlier attempts to be helpful had been a disaster. Colby was a big man and her measly five-foot frame wasn’t quite capable of lifting him out of a wheelchair. All she’d succeeded in doing was nearly dumping him on the sidewalk.

  At least she’d had the sense to rent a low-to-the-ground car for the trip to Destiny instead of bringing her truck. Colby never would have been able to climb up in that thing in his current condition.

  “There,” the nurse said, picking up Colby’s feet and gently turning him to face forward in the passenger seat of the car. “Comfortable, Detective Vale?”

  “I’m fine.” He was still the grumpy patient he’d been since his first day in the hospital. He didn’t tolerate needing help very well.

  The nurse ignored Colby’s bad attitude as usual. “Let me just get this seat belt—”

  “I’ve got it.” Piper nudged the nurse out of the way and pulled the shoulder belt over Colby. They’d already agreed the lap belt would be too uncomfortable pressing against his incision. He’d come so close to dying that night. If he hadn’t put Deputy Hollenbeck’s bullet-resistant vest on before he’d gone to the stables, the doctor said the blast would have shredded his organs instead of just rupturing his spleen.

  She shook herself from her morbid thoughts and snapped the shoulder belt into place. Then she dropped a quick kiss on top of the adorable man’s head.

  He rewarded her with a frown. “I’m not a golden retriever.”

  She rolled her eyes and kissed him on the lips.

  This time he rewarded her with a wink and a smile.

  She backed out of the car and closed the door. After thanking the nurse and apologizing, again, for Colby’s rotten attitude all week, she hurried to the driver’s seat and got in.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready. Take me home, driver.”

  She pretended not to notice his dictatorial tone and accelerated away from the curb. “Have you considered getting in-home health care, a nurse who’ll stop by every once in a while to check on you while you’re recuperating?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “So the doctor gave you permission to drive already in case you need anything?”

  His silence was her answer.

  “Like I said—think about getting a nurse to check on you now and then.”

  He grunted his reply and looked out the window. “Did Blake tell you what he found out about Wilkerson and Shane?”

  “That Shane was the so-called nephew I told you about? Poor Mrs. Wilkerson. Her husband not only cheated on her, he ignored the product of that relationship—his son—until Shane was left orphaned and the state tracked him down as the father. I can’t even imagine how that conversation went with his wife. And poor Shane, having to pretend he was a nephew and not even being openly acknowledged as the man’s son.” She shook her head. “No wonder he turned out bad.”

  “I’m not crying any tears over him. But I concede that being orphaned, ignored and shipped off to a boys’ home without even being given his father’s last name was a million ways of wrong.”

  She passed a slow-moving car and got back into the right lane. “I think it’s sad no matter how you look at it. Shane was doomed from the start with a crackhead mom and a father who was already married and refused to acknowledge him.”

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Shane said he kept tabs from inside the prison, that he could have stopped me if I’d tried to expand the stables before he got out. Do you think it was his father who updated him on what was going on? If so, why would he do that when he ignored his son before he went to prison? Did he feel guilty after his wife died and decided to protect his son in any way that he could? Even by killing for him at the very end?”

  Colby shrugged. “A guilty conscience might explain Wilkerson’s actions. Or maybe he wanted some of that money for himself and figured the only way to get it was to help his son. I don’t guess we’ll ever know.” He motioned toward an exit. “Let’s take that county road for fun.”

  “For fun? I’ve never even been down that road. I don’t know where it goes.”

  “Humor me.”

  She put her blinker on, shaking her head as she headed down the off-ramp. “Okay. Which way? Left or right?”

  “Left. That looks like it should take us somewhat parallel to the highway but we’ll get to see some pretty scenery.”

  “Pretty scenery. Are you sure the pain medicine isn’t making you loopy? This detour could take us miles out of our way.”

  “Is there something at the ranch you have to get back to by a certain time?”

  The ranch. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel.

  “Piper?”

  “What? Oh, sorry. No, no. There’s nothing at the ranch that I have to worry about.” She forced a smile.

  An hour passed with only the sound of the rushing wind to break the silence inside the car.

  A sign up ahead announced an intersection. Piper slowed. “What do you think? If we’ve been going parallel to the highway, we should be about halfway to Destiny now. But I’m not sure whether we should continue straight or go left again.”

  “Go straight, then turn right at that sign up there.”

  “Sign? I don’t see a sign.”

  “You will.” He sounded ridiculously pleased with himself.

  She looked over at him, then pulled straight ahead. “Did someone double your dosage?”

  He laughed. “Just pull in there.” He waved to the right.

  Sure enough, there was a sign where he’d said there would be—letters on an archway that spelled Second Chance Ranch. She pulled the car to a stop.

  “I don’t think we should go in there. It looks like someone’s private property.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “What?”

  He pulled her right hand off the steering wheel and pressed a kiss on top of it. “Do you trust me?”

  She swallowed and stared at her skin, still feeling the burn of his lips. “Um, yes?”

  He laughed and let her hand go. “I know the owner. It’s okay. Just pull up to the house. I want to show you something.”

  She would have argued, but he looked so happy and peaceful and so dang sexy that her mouth watered for wanting him. Oh, how she loved this man. But did he love her? That was the question. They’d agreed there was no future for them. But that was before the explosion, before she’d spent nearly every waking hour at his side, praying for his recovery. And yet, here she was, driving him home so he could leave her. Didn’t that answer the question about whether he loved her or not?

  “Piper, the house? It’s just past that curve.”

  She nodded and pressed the gas, easing down the long road into the property. There were pristine white three-rail fences running on either side, just like the fences at her ranch. But where her land was winter-brown, this land was a vibrant green. It had been seeded with winter ryegrass.

  Giant oak trees spread their thick branches toward the sky. Devoid of leaves now, they’d be lush, heavy shade trees come the spring. She could easily imagine a dozen horses running behind these fences, standing under the trees, sipping from the sparkling pond in the distance.

  “It really is beautiful here.”

  “Yes. Beautiful.”

  He was smiling when she looked at him.
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  She frowned and stopped the car. “Colby? What’s going on?”

  His long-suffering sigh could have knocked her over if she’d been standing.

  “Okay, okay.” She pressed the gas and hurried around the curve. A small white clapboard farmhouse with a wraparound porch greeted them. Its black shutters provided a stark yet homey contrast to the blindingly white house. A porch swing gently moved back and forth in the light breeze at the far left end of the porch.

  “Is your friend home?” she asked. “Is he...or she...expecting us?”

  Without answering, he unclipped his seat belt and pushed his door open.

  “Colby, wait.” She hurried out of the car and ran to his side, just in time to help him stand. “Are you sure you should be walking? I can try to get closer to the porch if you want.”

  “This is perfect right here.” He turned around, pulling her with him to face the acres of beautiful pastureland spread out before them.

  “Who lives here? Did your brother, Scott, buy this place and move out here? Did Joey finally make it big in Nashville, and he and Lisa are here?” She tried to look over her shoulder at the house but his arm tightened, keeping her from turning around.

  “You are a very difficult person to surprise, Piper Ann Leigh Caraway. Just be quiet for one more minute.” He glanced at his watch. “Yep, we’re right on time. Just wait.”

  His vague responses were driving her crazy. She was just about to demand that he explain everything when the sound of hooves pounding against the ground glued her to the spot. The gait was distinctive, heavy, like a draft horse might make. And then the horse burst into view, crossing the pasture from right to left, its thick black mane and tail rippling out behind it.

  Her mouth dropped open in astonishment, then her vision blurred as tears slid down her cheeks. “Gladiator? Why is he here? I sold him two days ago. I don’t understand.”

  Colby gently turned her to face him and tilted her chin up. “Yes, you did. You sold your ranch, too.”

  “But...how did you know?”

  “I’m a detective.”