Lone Wolf Lawman

by Delores Fossen

  SAPD. San Antonio Police Department. “What did they find?” she asked her brother.

  “McCain has done legal work for both Canales and Boggs.”

  That didn’t surprise her at all, and it gave them a connection between them and Ogden since McCain was Ogden’s lawyer, too.

  “Any idea which one of them hired McCain to represent Ogden?” Weston pressed, taking the question right out of her mouth.

  “It’s hard to tell. The payment for representing Ogden came from an offshore account. There are layers and layers of cover so it might be impossible to find out who actually owns that account. The FBI is on it, so maybe they’ll get something.”

  Maybe, but that seemed like a long shot. If either Canales or Boggs had set this up in advance, then they’d no doubt make sure it couldn’t be linked back to them.

  “We need to find Ogden,” Jericho snapped. “He’s the key to sorting this out. Hell, he could be the owner of that offshore account.”

  “Could be, but there’s a problem with that.” Jax huffed. “It appears Ogden didn’t cooperate with the escape. I used the word appears because he could have been faking it, but he was yelling for help when the men took him. And one of the guys punched him.”

  That caused Jericho to curse. Addie wanted to do the same. If Ogden was a loose end that was about to be tied up, then there went one of their best chances of linking him to the killer.

  “There’s more,” Jax said.

  “Good news, I hope,” Addie mumbled.

  “Not really. Well, it’s good news for Canales. We did a rush on his DNA test, and he’s not the Moonlight Strangler.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked.

  “I’m sure unless Canales somehow managed to tamper with the test. That would mean he has an insider at the lab. Possible, I suppose. That’s why I’m having another test run at a different lab.”

  Good. Addie figured a man like Canales could—and would—tamper with potential evidence.

  “Wait a sec,” Jericho said, “I got another call coming in. It’s from Cord.”

  That instantly put a knot in her stomach. From the sound of Jericho’s voice, he had a similar reaction. But his reaction probably wasn’t because he was afraid for Cord’s life.

  Unlike the conference call, Addie couldn’t hear what Cord was saying because Jericho had put them on hold. Jax, Weston and she just waited. And waited. With that knot tightening even more.

  “If Cord’s calling,” Weston reminded her, “then he’s all right.”

  True. That was something at least. But she doubted he’d stay all right if he continued to taunt a killer.

  It seemed to take an eternity for Jericho to come back on the line, and even when he did, he didn’t jump right into an explanation about Cord’s call.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “It’s Daisy,” Jericho finally said. “The cops found her. Addie, I’m sorry, but she’s dead.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daisy was dead. Murdered. According to Jax, she’d been strangled and had that obscene, too familiar crescent-shaped cut on her cheek.

  The signature of the Moonlight Strangler.

  Definitely not the way Weston had wanted this to go. Even if it turned out Daisy was involved in the attacks against Addie, Weston had wanted her alive so she could talk. Now they’d lost that chance along with perhaps an innocent woman losing her life.

  That meant the danger to Addie was just as great as it had been two days earlier. And worse, she was beyond shaken. The moment they’d arrived at the safe house, she had gone to her room. Probably not to rest, but Weston had pretended that was happening so she could have some time to try to come to terms with all of this.

  If that was possible.

  Maybe the shower she was taking now would help. Since she’d been in there a good half hour, Weston figured she was in there crying. Or cursing their situation.

  Maybe both.

  Even though he was across the hall in another bedroom, they’d left their doors open, and he heard her phone ding. Not her usual phone but a safe, untraceable one that the marshals had given her to use. The only people who had the number were members of her family. Since the phone was on the nightstand, he went in her room to have a look. It was from Jericho.

  You okay? her brother texted. Just checking.

  Too bad Jericho hadn’t texted with good news. That might improve Addie’s mood.

  Or not.

  She stepped out of the bathroom, her attention going right to him. For just a second he saw the emotions and the hurt in her eyes before she did her best to shut down. She failed.

  Yeah, there wasn’t much that was going to help with her mood.

  She was dressed, thank goodness, in jeans and a dark green top. Weston figured his mind was already in a bad place, and it sure wouldn’t have helped if a naked Addie had come walking out of the bathroom. Of course, she likely wouldn’t have done that since there were two other marshals in the house.

  Addie went to the window and glanced outside. Not that there was much for her to see. The safe house was located in the middle of nowhere with no other houses around for miles.

  Once, it’d been a small working ranch, but now the barn and pastures were empty. Ditto for the road leading to the place. There’d been no traffic the entire week prior to their arrivals, and the marshals knew that because a motion-activated security sensor had been fitted to one of the trees right off the road. If anyone tried to get to the place on foot or by car, Daniel and Kirk would be alerted.

  “I hope we don’t have to be here for Christmas,” she said under her breath.

  Heck, he hoped so, too, since Christmas was nearly three weeks away. He wanted the danger over and done with well before that.

  “Jericho just texted you.” Weston tipped his head to the phone and sank down on the edge of her bed. “He wants to know if you’re okay.”

  She made a soft as-if sound, but she did send a text with their now routine lie, to say that yes, she was okay.

  “It’s my fault Daisy’s dead,” Addie said as soon as she finished the text.

  Weston huffed. “And how do you figure that?”

  Her hair was wet, her face rosy and damp from the shower, and when she walked closer to him, he caught the scent of a floral shampoo.

  And her own scent, too, swirling beneath it.

  Hard to miss those scents when she sat down next to him. Much too close. Of course, maybe a mile was too close when it came to Addie.

  “I should have made Daisy understand the danger she was in,” Addie finally answered.

  “Because of your ESP, right?”

  She frowned at his attempted humor.

  “Daisy knew the risks when she sneaked out of the hospital,” Weston added. “She could have just stayed in protective custody with one of your brothers. She didn’t. She ran. And in my experience, innocent people don’t run from the law.”

  “Maybe...”

  She was no doubt about to launch into stage two of a guilt fest that wouldn’t do her or the baby any good. So Weston put a stop to it.

  By kissing her.

  Of course, that didn’t fix anything. Addie pulled back, looking surprised, confused and maybe a couple of other emotions he didn’t want to identify.

  “Bad idea, I know,” he said before she could say it.

  But Addie didn’t say it. She just stared at him for a few seconds, then slid her hand around his neck to pull him back to her.

  And she kissed him.

  Okay, so maybe not such a bad idea after all. Or perhaps they were both making a mistake. One touch of his mouth to hers though, and Weston didn’t care how many mistakes they made.

  This was the heat he’d felt with her in that San Antonio hotel.

  The instant fire mixed with the slam of sensations. Her mouth, her touch.

  Her.

  And just like those others times, Weston felt himself falling. Touching, too. Because obviously his crazy body th
ought he hadn’t screwed this up enough so he hauled her closer and closer. Until she was practically in his lap.

  There was a serious problem with kisses this good. They only upped an already too hot heat. Ditto for the touching. His hand landed on her breasts. Then under her top so that bare skin was on bare skin.

  The heat went up a notch.

  Weston quit thinking about notches, however, when he lowered his head, shoved down her bra and kissed her there. Actually, he quit thinking about everything and just kept taking.

  Addie was taking, too. Fumbling with his buttons. Putting her hand inside his shirt and on his chest.

  Then lower.

  That’s when Weston took hold of the tiny grain of sanity he had left. He didn’t let go of her, but he got them to their feet, and, without breaking the kisses and touches, he maneuvered them to the door so he could close it.

  They didn’t make it back to the bed, though.

  Addie pushed him against the door, pinning him in place. Not that he needed to be pinned. Weston had no plans to go anywhere unless it was to drag her to the floor.

  So that’s what he did.

  More sanity returned when she reached for his zipper. Oh, man. He really wanted what she clearly had in mind, but talk about bad timing. Bad everything. This was probably some kind of adrenaline crash reaction that Addie would regret later.

  Weston doubted he could talk any part of his body into regret.

  Still, he had to think of her. Had to give her a breather so she could try to consider all of this with a clear head.

  Or not.

  She cursed him when he tried to stop her, and that’s when Weston realized they’d taken this past the point of no return. Well, for her anyway.

  He shoved down her zipper and slipped his hand inside her panties. All right. He had to grind his teeth together to keep himself from saying something stupid.

  Like—let’s do this now.

  They would do something, but he had to keep some shred of sanity. If he was inside her, no sanity.

  She was still struggling with him, to make this a round of old-fashioned sex. Good sex, no doubt. But Addie stopped when he sank his fingers inside her.

  Clamping her teeth over her bottom lip, she didn’t make a sound. Didn’t look at him. But, man, the pleasure was there all over her face.

  Pleasure for him, too.

  It didn’t take much for him to finish things for her. Probably because those kisses had put her right at the brink. It only took a few strokes, and Weston saw—and felt—her shatter.

  Now she made a sound. A sharp moan that tugged at him. Well, it tugged at one very hard part of him anyway, and that idiot part of him started to suggest some bad things.

  “Everything okay in there, Addie?” Seaver called out a split second before Weston heard the marshal’s footsteps making their way down the hall toward them.

  Addie gasped and scrambled away from him. Not easily. Especially since she was trying to fix her top and jeans.

  “We’re fine,” Weston lied for her. “Any news?”

  “Jericho might have a lead on Lonny Ogden. If anything comes of it, I’ll let you know.” The marshal reversed his steps and went back toward the front of the house.

  “Good grief,” Addie said under her breath.

  Weston hated that she looked embarrassed. “I’ve seen you stark naked, and I’ve kissed nearly every inch of you, remember? This was like second base.”

  “Third,” she corrected, making him chuckle.

  There was a hint of that humor he missed. Addie hadn’t exactly been cracking jokes during their time in San Antonio, but there’d been moments when she had managed to keep things light.

  She didn’t move closer to him but glanced at his very noticeable zipper region. “Should I do something about that?”

  Weston gave her a blank stare. “I’m a man. The answer to that question is usually a yes. Usually,” he emphasized. “But I’m thinking you’ve got five minutes tops before the climax wears off and you come to your senses.”

  It didn’t take her anywhere near five minutes. More like five seconds. “You’re right. Sorry.” She finished fixing her clothes. “Sex is a complication I don’t need right now.”

  It hit him then. The baby. Something that hadn’t been on his mind when his hand had been in her panties. “Is what we did okay? I mean for the baby?”

  Now she was the one giving the flat look. “The baby is fine. Pregnant women can and obviously do have climaxes. As you just proved.” She actually blushed. “Maybe talking is safer,” she grumbled.

  No doubt, but he figured that meant Addie would go back to discussing Daisy, the attacks or the killer.

  She stared at him. “Are you ever going to tell me why you never wanted to have children?”

  Okay, not a question he especially wanted on the conversation table. Still, maybe it was better than talking about sex or murder.

  Maybe.

  Or maybe he was just playing with a different kind of fire.

  Addie was clearly waiting for an answer, but it took Weston a while to find one he could manage. “My father didn’t abandon me the way yours did, but I wish he had.”

  She stayed quiet a moment. “Did he have something to do with the scars on your back?” The flat look returned when he just stared at her. “I’ve seen every inch of you naked, too. You have at least a dozen scars on your back.”

  Yeah, those. He always lied about them, saying they were rodeo injuries, but it didn’t seem right to lie to Addie. “My dad was a mean drunk, and my mother did whatever she could to make sure she wasn’t the one on the receiving end of his fists and his belt.”

  Addie glanced away, swallowed hard. “My father gave you the other scar. The one on your chest.” She touched her cheek. “Both of us have lots of scars. Some visible, some not.”

  Weston leaned toward her. “I gave you one of those invisible scars. A broken heart.” He touched her heart. At least that was his intention, but it also meant touching her breast.

  She didn’t exactly skitter away from him. “Who gave you your broken heart?” She leaned over, brushed her fingers over his chest and sent a nice trickle of heat through him.

  “Amy Wilkins. Tenth grade.”

  But he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. No. This was the talk. The one he’d never had with anyone.

  “I wasn’t in love with Collette,” he said. There, it was like ripping off a bandage. It hurt like hell, but the wound was there for Addie to see.

  “W-what?” Obviously, it wasn’t a confession she’d expected.

  “I tried to love her,” Weston explained, “but I knew I couldn’t give her the life she wanted. So I went to her office that night to break things off with her. Instead, I walked in on her being murdered.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  Weston had repeated that a couple of thousand times since her murder. Along with wanting to punish himself.

  “Did she know you didn’t love her?” Addie asked.

  “Considering I’d never said those words to her, I’m pretty sure she knew.”

  Addie made a sound of surprise. “You never told her you loved her?”

  “Before I met you in San Antonio, I didn’t make it a habit of lying to people.” He let that hang in the air between them. “Obviously, lying didn’t work out so well.”

  She didn’t argue with that and probably wouldn’t have even if her phone hadn’t rung. “It’s likely one of my brothers checking on me.” She got up and went to the nightstand.

  Then, she froze.

  “It says unknown caller on the screen,” Addie said, her gaze flying back to him.

  Weston couldn’t get to the phone fast enough. He hit the answer button and put it on speaker.

  “Hello, Addie,” the caller said. It was a man, and Weston didn’t recognize his voice. “We need to talk.”

  “Who is this?” she asked. “And how did you get my number?”

  “I got it fro
m your brother Chase. Rather, I got it from his phone. Don’t worry. He’s all right. Or at least he will be once the effects of the stun gun have worn off. Funny thing about brothers. Even adopted ones. They don’t like to share information about their kid sister.”

  Hell. Weston hurried to door, threw it open and called out for the marshals. “Make sure Addie’s brother Chase is all right and try to trace the call she just got.”

  Daniel nodded and took out his own phone. The other marshal did the same.

  “Who is this?” Addie repeated, her voice shaking now.

  “You don’t know? Well, let’s just keep it formal, okay? You can call me the Moonlight Strangler.”

  Addie froze. Her eyes, widened. Her breath stalled in her throat.

  “How do we know you’re who you say you are?” Weston demanded.

  “Ahh, Ranger Cade. You’re one of those devil-in-the-details kind of people. Well, here’s my proof. I cut all my ladies on their cheeks. That’s not in any of the reports, is it, Ranger Cade?

  No, it wasn’t. But it wasn’t enough. “Convince me. Give me something else.”

  “No wonder you and Addie have a thing for each other. Like minds and all that. All right. Here’s your something else. I took Leta’s necklace. A little gold angel. I’m sure in the reports her brother said she wore it all the time and that it was the only thing missing when her body turned up.”

  Weston nodded when Addie looked at him. None of the other victims had been missing any jewelry or items of clothing.

  “Chase is okay,” Daniel relayed to them. “His phone was stolen, but I reached him through a fellow marshal who’s on the scene with him now.” Then he shook his head. “We can’t trace the killer’s call. He’s using a prepaid cell.”

  Of course he was. This snake had avoided capture for thirty years or more. However, he’d taken a huge risk going after Chase. Addie’s brother was a marshal and might have seen or heard something that could help them identify him.

  Addie took a short breath of relief before turning her attention back to the phone. “Who are you?” Addie demanded. “And by that, I mean what’s your name?”

  He made a tsk-tsk sound. “Wouldn’t do to tell you that. Jail’s no place for me.”