The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  “Thanks. I knew you’d understand.”

  Being handed a medal wouldn’t have felt half so good.

  In the midst of the moment, the back of his neck prickled as though someone was watching them. Abruptly, he rose.

  “What is it?” Lorie asked.

  Dread rippled down his spine. “Stay here, okay?” He didn’t want to scare Grant by explaining. “Please. I’ll be back.”

  With that, he headed for the hallway.

  Chapter Six

  When he stepped through the doorway, he scanned the hall.

  Not a soul in sight.

  Still, his senses tingled with an awareness of danger hones by years on the job. Following his instincts, he headed back toward her dressing room. As he neared it, a strong scent wafted into the hall.

  Her perfume.

  For a moment, he wished he still carried a gun, though he’d sworn that except as a hunting guide, he never wanted to do so again. The comfort of his shoulder holster would have felt good right now.

  He edged closer to the door, pausing to listen before exposing his presence in the doorway. In that awareness that a cop develops, he knew that the room was empty. Nonetheless, he entered cautiously.

  The atomizer that he’d seen only a short time before lay shattered in the center of the room, the fragrance wafting upward, filling the space with her scent. On the dressing table, a spiral of smoke rose from a candle doused only moments before.

  A gasp behind him sent him whirling around, arms extended to defend. To attack.

  Lorie stood there, blue eyes wide with fear and confusion.

  Fury flared, burning white-hot in seconds. “Goddammit, Lorie, didn’t I tell you to stay there?” he roared.

  Her face was ashen. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  “Where the hell’s Grant?”

  “He’s…he’s with Josh. I told him I needed to go to the bathroom.” She looked beyond him, spotting the glass shards on the floor. She knelt and began picking them up.

  “Don’t!” he roared.

  She flinched and dropped them, backing away from his fury. He cursed himself and reached for her, fighting for calm. “We have to leave it there for evidence.”

  Her eyes swam with tears as she looked first at his hand on her arm, then into his eyes. For a very long second, both hung suspended on the edge of something momentous.

  Then she leaned ever so slightly toward him, and he gave up the battle. Just one moment, he told himself. Just let me hold her. Just this once.

  She melted against him, her arms stealing around his waist, and he knew in his soul that once would never be enough. The softness of her against him, the sweet perfection of her in his arms…the swift blade of desire sliced him to the bone. He mourned already for the long heartache ahead when he would be forced to let her go.

  He couldn’t question why anymore—why he wanted her so badly when she belonged to his brother. It was inevitable, this longing. He could no more stop it than he could quit breathing.

  But he didn’t have to act upon it, and he wouldn’t. Not ever again.

  He granted himself one last moment with her, one moment in which he pulled her in closer. Laid his cheek upon her hair and allowed himself to feel what could be.

  Then Quinn Marshall did one of the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. For love of his brother, he closed the door on his heart, setting her aside and putting distance between them.

  Hurt and confusion swirled in those beautiful blue eyes. She held out a hand as if to reclaim him, then slowly…slowly, with great dignity, she straightened, holding her head high. Pulled her hand back, wrapping her arms around herself for protection.

  He wanted to call her back. Wanted to explain, but what would he say? I know you belong to my brother, but you should belong to me?

  Better that she think him cold than faithless. He was only part of a man, one whose mind couldn’t be trusted. She shouldn’t be saddled with his problems. He looked away, giving them both time to regain their distance.

  And in so doing, he was brought back to the reason they were in this room.

  “Tell me what happened last night.”

  She sighed. “There were messages on my phone.”

  “What kind of messages?”

  “Two were just hang-ups.”

  He listened quietly, waiting for her to go on.

  “One was only…breathing.” She began to pace.

  “But that wasn’t all.” A statement, not a question.

  She shook her head. “One more. A voice said, ‘Pretty Lorie…my only love.’”

  “Just like the notes,” he said grimly. “Have you heard that voice before?”

  “No.”

  “You sure? Nothing at all familiar about it?”

  “Do you honestly believe I haven’t thought about it, over and over? Do you imagine that I thought about anything else last night?” She stepped back, struggling to regain her composure. “I’m sorry.”

  His hands itched to hold her, to soothe her. “Was this your cell or landline?”

  “My cell.”

  “I’m calling Colello about this. And you’re taking the afternoon off. I want you out of here.”

  She whirled, eyes shooting sparks at him. “I most certainly will not. I’ve never missed a day of work on this show, and I’m not starting now.”

  “You are, if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there,” he shouted back.

  “Who do you think you are, Quinn Marshall? You’re not assigned to my case, you’re not my husband, you’re only—”

  “What in the devil are you two shouting about? They can hear you in the commissary!” Josh had to yell to be heard. Grant peered out from behind him, eyes round as saucers.

  When Lorie spotted the look on Grant’s face, she dropped to her knees and opened her arms to him. Grant raced over to her, wrapping his arms around her neck. Over her shoulder he looked up at Quinn, obviously upset and confused.

  Quinn ran a hand over his face. “Grant, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at her. It’s just—” What could he say that wouldn’t make the child afraid for her?

  Josh spoke up, “Quinn, come outside for a minute.”

  Spotting Juliette behind him, Quinn shot Josh an angry glare. “Why don’t you and the lady just go on back?” he sneered.

  Josh’s mouth dropped open, then his temper flared. “What the hell has gotten into you today?”

  Quinn couldn’t stand any more. He shouldered his way out of the room, taking long strides down the hall, headed for the building entry.

  Josh caught up to him and yanked him around. “What’s put this burr up your ass, Quinn? Why were you yelling at Lorie?”

  “Goddammit, he’s been back in there. I want her to go home where she—”

  “What do you mean? He—the stalker? He’s been in there…today?”

  “Yeah, and he called her yesterday. She got the messages after we left.”

  Josh ran a hand through his hair. “So what do we do now?”

  “First, we call Colello to set up surveillance. Then she goes home, since he’s obviously able to wander the studio at will.” Quinn leveled a stare at his brother. “Will you please try to convince her not to be such a damn fool? This show is sure as hell not as important as her life.”

  Josh rubbed his jaw as he thought. “When she gets her heels dug in, she’s tough to budge.”

  Quinn snorted. “Well, then, sweet-talk her into it. I don’t care how you get it done, but for chrissake, Josh, help me out here.”

  Just then, Grant ran up and stood by him uncertainly. “Are you mad at Mom, Quinn? Are you going to leave?”

  Quinn exhaled loudly. “No, I’m not mad at her. I’m sorry if I scared you.” He crouched to face him. He might have to stay away from this boy’s mother, but wild horses couldn’t make him abandon the child. “And no, I don’t want to leave.” The tender dignity of a very young boy trying to be a man sent an arrow right into his hear
t. “As a matter of fact, I was wondering if that big old park over there has anyplace you and I could go throw a football around.”

  “Really?” Grant rubbed a fist across his nose, runny from trying not to cry.

  Quinn pulled out his handkerchief and held it out, stroking Grant’s back while he recovered his composure. “Really. Can you give me a few minutes to make a couple of phone calls?”

  Grant’s hair bounced as he nodded.

  “Head on back to your mom, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Grant’s giggle floated back on the wind as he raced across the grass in the Sheep Meadow, and Quinn knew he’d done the right thing in bringing the boy here. His own mind was still very much on the conversation he’d had with Colello. Both of them thought Lorie would be better off staying away from the studio for awhile, but she’d already gone on the set by the time he’d finished with the detective, and he wouldn’t be able to gain her attention for hours. He’d reassured himself that Josh had more reason than he did to want her to stay alive, so with a reminder to his brother, he’d left her in Josh’s charge.

  Quinn lay on the ground, enjoying the boy’s glee, hoping that Grant had totally recovered from the lunchtime fiasco. Soon Grant returned and flopped to the ground next to him, laying his head on Quinn’s stomach as they rested in the shade beginning to filter their way.

  “Quinn?”

  “Hmm?” A sense of peace enveloped him; Quinn fought off the urge to nap.

  “What’s your horse’s name?”

  “Wind Dancer.”

  “Will I ever get to see him?”

  Quinn didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. “Would you want to?”

  Grant rolled over to look straight at him. “Yeah!”

  “Well, I hope you get to someday, Grant. I think he’d like you.”

  “Will he bite me?”

  Quinn chuckled. “If you bite him first, he might.”

  Grant giggled, still sounding a little nervous. “Do you think I could ever ride him with you?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Quinn rose, brushing off his jeans. “So how about if we go see if your mom and Josh are finished? I could use some ice cream first, though—how about you?”

  “Yeah! Ice cream!” Grant pumped his fist in the air and danced around on the grass. He grabbed Quinn’s hand. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

  “Chili con carne—what’s yours?”

  Grant giggled as they crossed the wide expanse of grass, headed back to the studio.

  Thank goodness, he’d insisted on a cup instead of a cone for the ice cream Grant wanted to bring to Lorie. Grant’s choice of paths to return to the studio was decidedly circuitous, and he found a never-ending stream of things to interest him. At any other time, Quinn would have enjoyed dawdling with him, but he was all too aware of how long they’d been away.

  But as Lorie had pointed out, he was supposed to be here on vacation. Vacation from what, though? Quinn realized he felt more alive now than he had in months. Vacation from self-pity, maybe?

  They checked to see if the taping had ended and found out it had just wrapped up. As they walked down the hall toward Lorie’s dressing room, Quinn stifled the urge to grab the sloshing cup of ice cream and steady it. He cringed, though, as Grant excitedly rounded the open doorway of her quarters and a trail of the sweet stuff slopped over the side.

  “Mom! Guess what we brought you!” As Grant ran toward her, Quinn was amused to see alarm leap to her eyes as Grant’s precarious hold registered.

  “Oh, thank you, Grant. What flavor is it?”

  “Chocolate macadamia, just like you always want,” Grant said proudly.

  “Sweetie, this is yummy.” She sighed with pleasure as she spooned the liquid into her mouth. Quinn closed his eyes against the sight of her tongue licking the spoon, but hearing her sigh was just as painful.

  “Guess what Quinn’s favorite flavor is, Mom?” Grant slid his gaze over to Quinn’s and grinned widely.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Hmm…” Her blue eyes met Quinn’s, speculating. “Thorns and brambles, maybe?”

  Touché, he conceded with a nod, eyes locking on hers.

  “What kind of flavor is that, Mom? Sounds yucky!”

  “It’s certainly no fun, Grant, I have to agree. But some people have strange ideas of what’s fun.”

  The jibe went right over Grant’s head. Quinn quelled the urge to apologize for his earlier behavior. It was better for both of them if she thought he was an asshole. She sure as hell wasn’t listening to his advice when he was nice.

  “Mom? Mom, are you listening?”

  Lorie snapped her gaze away from his and returned her attention to her son. “Sure I am. What’s his favorite flavor?”

  “Chili con carne!” Grant broke into giggles.

  Quinn saw her reluctant smile. One he couldn’t seem to help answered hers.

  Jos appeared at the door. “Grant, my man! How’s the park?”

  “You should have seen me scrambling in the backfield, Josh. Quinn got me a football. He thinks I’m really good!” Grant exulted.

  “No kidding. Let me see that ball.” Quinn handed it over, and Josh tossed it in the air. “Okay, go long down the hall…”

  “Excuse me, but could this game adjourn to somewhere else while I change for dance class?” Lorie interrupted. “Grant, don’t wander off. We have to leave in about twenty minutes.”

  “Aw-w, Mom, do I have to go with you?” Grant moaned.

  “Yes, you do. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  Josh intervened. “Hey, sport, how ’bout us guys have a boys’ night out? No girls allowed?”

  Grant jumped up and down, “Please, Mom, please?”

  Lorie looked uncertain. “Until I get out of class?”

  Josh rolled his eyes. “How much fun can we have in a couple of hours of class? Come on, Lorie, let him spend the night at the loft. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sport?”

  “Oh, yeah!” Grant’s eyes sparkled. “Wait ’til Jeremy hears about this!”

  Quinn frowned. He was happy to have Grant with them but didn’t like the idea of Lorie alone—although how she would be any safer with Grant, he didn’t know. His irritation with Josh increased. It was great to do this for Grant, but why wasn’t Josh more concerned about Lorie?

  Grant saw his expression, and the joy disappeared. “Would you rather I didn’t, Quinn?”

  For the boy’s sake, Quinn pasted on a grin. “Of course not. It would be great to have you spend the night.”

  Grant zeroed in on Quinn’s hesitation. “It’s Mom, right? She might get lonely.”

  “Oh, that’s silly, honey. You’ve spent the night with friends before. Go ahead—you’ll have fun, and I’ll be just fine. I’ll go home after class and take a long bubble bath and read.”

  “Yuck. That doesn’t sound like any fun to me, Mom.”

  “Well, it’s kind of a girl thing. You go on ahead.” Seeing his indecision, she swayed the balance. “Besides, Josh will probably take you to eat something totally disgusting like burritos.”

  That did the trick.

  “Could we, Josh? Could we go to Lupita’s?” Grant entreated. “Quinn would like it, wouldn’t he?”

  “Sure he would. Tex-Mex is always good, right, Quinn?”

  Quinn couldn’t quell his discomfort over leaving her, but it wasn’t his place to stay. Never mind the images that floated through his head at the idea of her naked, draped in bubbles.

  He tore his gaze from her. “In Texas it would be. I’m not convinced anyone up here knows how to make it.” He grinned with a cheer he didn’t feel.

  “Do you want to go by the apartment to get some of his things?” Lorie asked.

  Josh snorted. “Guys don’t pack overnight bags. We don’t need all that junk, right, sport?”

  “Not even clean underwear?”

  Grant hung on every word, waiting to hear Josh’s response.

  “Nah. He
can change when he gets back home in the morning.”

  Lorie wrinkled her nose. “It’s a good thing I grew up with brothers or I’d think you were strange. That’s exactly what my brothers would say.” She bent to Grant. “Well, at least give me a hug first, okay?” When he ran into her arms, she buried her face in his hair and clasped him for a long moment. Then she pulled away and gave him a quick kiss.

  Grant turned and ran down the hall, shouting for Josh to follow.

  Quinn hesitated, trying to reconcile what he thought he should feel with what his instincts demanded. When she looked up, eyes glistening, he knew a protective urge that all but choked him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her.

  She squared her shoulders. “I’m counting on you to take care of him, Quinn.”

  “Who’s going to take care of you?” he asked, equally serious.

  “I’m a big girl.” Her chin lifted. When he didn’t relent, she sighed. “Okay, I’ll take a cab both ways. My building has a fierce doorman, and I swear to you I’ll go straight upstairs and lock my doors. Will that satisfy you?”

  “Not really.”

  “I’ll be fine. I can’t have an armed guard at all times, Quinn. I promise I’ll be careful.”

  “Lorie…” He couldn’t say what he wanted to voice. Frustration made him edgy.

  “Quinn!” Grant’s voice echoed.

  “Give him this night, would you? I’ve never seen him so excited. He’s in seventh heaven.”

  “Promise me you’ll call if anything…”

  She gazed at him with a tenderness that both warmed and tormented.

  “Promise me.” It was not a request this time.

  She smiled and laid one hand on his arm. “I promise.”

  “Lorie—”

  “Quinn!” Grant rounded the doorway. “Come on! Bye, Mom.”

  “Bye, sweetie.” With a slight shove, she urged Quinn out the door.

  As he left, he couldn’t escape the feeling that it was a mistake. He turned back, but her door was closed. Resolving to check on her later, he reluctantly followed Grant down the hall.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, Quinn?” Grant unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn.