by Rita Herron
Anger stained Miles’s already flushed cheeks. “You dragged me out of bed because of that stupid trinket?”
“It’s not stupid, Miles,” Taylor said. “That was the only personal thing I have from Mom, and you know how much it meant to me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, but it’s not worth anything, so why would I take it?”
“I don’t know.” Taylor’s voice warbled with emotions. “Maybe you wanted to hurt me for not loaning you money.”
Miles pushed his face into Taylor’s like some childhood bully. “If I wanted to get back at you, I wouldn’t pussyfoot around with some dinky bracelet. I’d go for something worth my time.”
And money, Hayes thought grimly. Miles’s daddy had probably bailed him out of trouble all his life, but if Hayes discovered he’d attacked Taylor, Hayes would make certain the guy paid.
He jerked Miles by the collar of his polo shirt. “So what would you do?” Hayes asked. “Try to kill her?”
Miles wheeled around on him. “Kill her? What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Where were you last night?” Hayes asked in a barely controlled tone.
Miles’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized the implication. “Why do you want to know?”
Taylor crossed her arms over her chest. “Answer him, Miles.”
Miles glanced back and forth between the two of them, fear and hate emanating from him. “I went clubbing. Took a cab home this morning.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?” Hayes asked.
Though the earring in his left ear glinted in the sunlight, his face paled slightly. “I don’t know, the bars were crowded.”
“So you don’t have an alibi?”
Temper flared in Miles’s bloodshot eyes. “Do I need one?”
“Yes. Someone tried to kill your sister,” Hayes said. “And you have a motive.”
Miles backed up as if he thought Hayes might physically attack him. “Listen, I got drunk, went dancing. There’s no way you’re going to pin anything on me.” He reached for the phone. “I’ll call my attorney.”
The weasel had shown no concern for Taylor at all. “You mean, you’ll call your daddy to come to the rescue?” Hayes said snidely.
Miles’s nostrils flared. “Guys like you have a chip on their shoulder,” Miles muttered. “Everyone in Cantara Hills has talked about it. You’d try to railroad me because you’re jealous of my money.”
Rage burned Hayes’s throat. “I’m not jealous of anything you have.”
Miles jerked an accusatory look toward Taylor. “He is, isn’t he, Taylor? He knows he’s not good enough for the women here, so he’s trying to make you doubt your own family.”
Hayes’s temper snapped. This time he jammed his face into Miles’s, intentionally proving he was bigger and stronger. “If I discover you tried to hurt your sister, I’ll come after you so fast you won’t know what hit you. And no amount of Daddy’s money will save you.”
Deciding he had to leave before he pelted the little weasel, he stalked toward the door. He heard Taylor’s footfalls as she hurried along behind him, but he didn’t look back. Didn’t want her to know how deeply her pissant brother’s comment had cut him.
Chapter Six
Taylor almost laughed at the sheer look of terror on Miles’s face.
Was he afraid of Hayes because he really believed the ranger was out to nail him or because he had something to hide?
“What do you think?” Hayes asked her as they settled in his car.
“I don’t know,” she said, scrunching her face in worry. “Over the years Miles and I have had our differences, but he is still my half brother.”
“One who’s jealous as hell of you,” Hayes said. “And he has a substance-abuse problem, owes heavy debts and may be desperate.”
All true. Still, the thought of one of her own family members trying to take her life made bile rise in her throat. “Families are supposed to love and trust each other,” she said quietly. “They should stick together, support each other in difficult times.”
“It doesn’t always work like that,” Hayes commented dryly.
Still, sadness weighed on her. When her mother had died, her father had thrown himself into work and travel, then sifted through women and marriages as easily as she did shoes. She’d needed him around, yet he’d chosen work and other women over raising his daughter. Then there had been the long line of nannies. And Miles had come along…
At first she’d been excited about having a little brother, but as he’d grown up, things had changed.
Miles had resented any attention their father had given her. One memory surfaced, a time when he’d cut off all of her dolls’ hair, then blamed her. And another when he’d smashed the music box their father had given her.
Suddenly she felt a hand cover hers. When she looked up, Hayes was watching her, compassion in his eyes. He understood what it was like to be hurt by family.
“Let’s talk to Kenneth Sutton now. He was upset with Kimberly for questioning him on the bids. And you asked him about it, too, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “But I’ve worked with Kenneth for some time now, Hayes. I respect his ethics and his view on politics. I can’t imagine him doing anything underhanded.”
“He’s a politician,” Hayes said. “Maybe he thought no one would find out. With his campaign run for governor, it’s even more important that anything illicit he was involved in be kept a secret.”
She grimaced, praying Hayes was wrong and that she hadn’t been fooled by Kenneth.
HAYES HADN’T MEANT TO TAKE Taylor’s hand, but she’d seemed so fragile and sad that he hadn’t been able to resist. She’d been through an ordeal the past twenty-four hours and had shown amazing strength.
Even rich little girls had problems, he admitted silently. Even rich families could be dysfunctional.
Still, he kept his opinion to himself. He was here to do a job, not coddle Taylor. Miles’s comment only further reminded him that their worlds might coexist but didn’t mix.
“Taylor, do you mind calling Sutton to make sure he’s at his office before we drop by?”
“Sure.” She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and punched in the number. He started the engine but waited while she asked Sutton’s secretary if he was in.
“Thanks, Dora, tell Kenneth that Ranger Keller and I will be right there.”
She hung up, then he maneuvered into traffic. A strained silence stretched between them, the heat in the car climbing to an uncomfortable level.
“What made you decide to become a Texas Ranger?” Taylor finally asked.
He frowned, squinting through the bright sun glinting off the front window, and flipped the air conditioner up a notch. “I guess Brody paved the path. When he joined, he talked about the training and chasing down the bad guys…” He shrugged. “Figured it was better than being one of them, and I was headed down that path.”
He’d had a lot of anger built up from the Kellers and would never have survived if he hadn’t made friends with Egan, Kimberly and Brody.
“Kimberly told me you guys were all friends as kids.”
“Yeah, we grew up in the same neighborhood, although our backgrounds were different.”
“You don’t have to come from the same background to get along,” Taylor murmured.
He jerked his head sideways. “They weren’t the same but they weren’t that different.” Not like the two of them.
“Kimberly said your foster parents weren’t very nice.”
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and felt it sweating. “Kim talked too much.”
“She cared about you,” Taylor said softly.
A pang squeezed his chest, reminding him of her death and the events that had brought them to Cantara Hills. He couldn’t discuss Kimberly with Taylor. Kimberly had understood where he’d come from, what it was like to be thrown away by a parent. What it had been like to want something that you’d never had.
&nb
sp; Taylor had lived a charmed life and understood none of that. She might be drawn to him now but only because of the danger and the close quarters. Or maybe she saw him as a new kind of adventure in her life. Maybe she’d wanted to see what it was like to slum.
So he clammed up, intentionally killing any more personal conversation between them.
Thankfully, they arrived at Sutton’s office, and Hayes parked. As soon as they entered, Hayes smelled the scent of old money, politics and secrets.
Mountains of posters advertising Sutton as the candidate to vote for in the upcoming gubernatorial election were stacked in every conceivable space and a flurry of workers were stationed in a bullpen answering phones, accepting donations and fielding questions.
Sutton’s secretary buzzed them in immediately. Dressed in a designer suit with polished shoes that shone as brightly as his pearly whites, Sutton gestured for them to enter. “It’s a madhouse around here, but please sit down. Would you like coffee?”
“No, thanks,” Hayes said. “We’re here on business.”
Sutton’s neatly trimmed hair looked spiked with gel, his eyebrows waxed, his nails manicured, his forehead furrowed. “If it’s about those bids, I have my people looking into that. I’m sure it’s some kind of clerical error. That or someone is trying to sabotage my campaign by slandering my name and reputation.”
“The bids are the least of your worries right now,” Hayes said. “Where were you last night?”
Tension rippled between them, and Hayes saw the wheels turning in Sutton’s eyes. Should he phone his lawyer?
Sutton glanced at Taylor. “What’s this about, Taylor?”
Hayes ground his teeth. Sutton was smooth, intentionally using his personal connection to Taylor to his advantage. Just how personal was it?
Egan mentioned that Sutton’s wife, Tammy, might be sleeping around, but what about Kenneth?
“Kenneth, I’m sorry,” Taylor began.
“Last night someone tried to kill Taylor,” Hayes said bluntly.
“Good God almighty.” Sutton lurched from his chair and circled around to study Taylor. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Answer my question first.” Hayes cut in. “Where were you last night?”
Anger flashed in Sutton’s eyes for a brief second, but he recovered quickly and pasted on his politician’s smile. The man had appeared to be genuinely concerned for Taylor. Either that or he was a damn good actor. “I finished with meetings around eight, then had dinner with my wife, Tammy. We were home all evening.”
Hayes grimaced silently. The perfect cover. A wife couldn’t testify against her husband.
And from what he’d heard, Tammy Sutton was salivating for her husband to sit in the governor’s chair, and would do anything to ensure his success.
Would she lie to protect him if he was a murderer?
TAYLOR’S NERVES PINGED BACK and forth as she and Hayes drove to her estate. She hated putting her friends on the spot and hoped she hadn’t damaged their working relationship today. She’d even considered the possibility that someone had framed Kenneth in an effort to degrade his name and throw off the election.
“Exactly what is your relationship with Sutton?” Hayes asked as they entered her house.
Her eyes widened in annoyance. “We work together, Hayes. I respect his decisions and appreciate the fact that he’s contributed to several charities.”
“What about those illegal bids?”
She bit down on her lip. “I’m still digging through the paper trail to figure out what happened. But I honestly don’t think Kenneth would participate in anything illegal. He wouldn’t take that chance.”
“Not in an election year?” Hayes asked sarcastically.
Taylor grimaced. “Not at any time.”
“Sometimes power and greed go to a man’s head,” Hayes said. “Maybe he thought the end justified the means.”
Taylor shrugged, still not buying the supposition. “Just because someone has political aspirations or money doesn’t automatically make them bad.”
He grunted in disagreement, and she gritted her teeth. “You’re too judgmental, Hayes. But you’re wrong about Kenneth. He’s one of the good guys.”
“Sounds as if you’re in love with the man,” Hayes said darkly.
Taylor whipped her head around in surprise. “No, Hayes. I admire him and think he’ll make a great governor, but our relationship is totally professional.”
“Really?” he said in a mocking tone. “He doesn’t have any indiscretions to hide?”
Anger churned in her stomach at his implications. “Are you asking me if he’s having an affair? Or if we’ve been together?”
Hayes’s razor sharp gaze cut through her like a knife.
“No, he’s not having an affair, Hayes, and we’ve never slept together,” Taylor said. “I do have morals, and I would never sleep with a married man.”
His jaw slackened slightly. “So he’s happy in his marriage?”
Taylor pressed her fingers to her temple where a headache was starting to pulse. “He and Tammy seem to be in sync. They both have the same goal, Kenneth as governor. And I’ve never seen them argue.” But still, she wasn’t sure the love was there, at least not in his eyes. Sure, Tammy was obsessed with being his wife, and with him, but Taylor didn’t see the passion she thought should be between a man and woman. The passion she wanted.
The passion she was starting to imagine between her and Hayes.
But she refrained from confiding her opinion. It would only make Kenneth look guilty in Hayes’s eyes.
Suddenly his interrogation felt too invasive. He wouldn’t talk about himself, but wanted to dissect her life, her friends, her family. Last night and today had taken their toll. She had to escape Hayes’s probing eyes and questions. “I have some work to do now.”
He simply stared at her, unnerving her even more. “Fine. I need to check in with Brody and Egan.”
She nodded, then slipped into her office and shut the door. After downing some aspirin, she spent the afternoon and evening working on the fund-raiser for the teen center, throwing herself into her work and forcing Hayes from her mind as she concentrated on organizing an art auction to raise money.
By seven her stomach growled, and her headache told her she needed food. She hadn’t eaten lunch, so she walked to the kitchen and began gathering ingredients for a shrimp stir-fry.
Hayes was working on his laptop at the table, and she began chopping vegetables. When she glanced up, he was watching her, his eyebrows arched, his look hooded. “I figured you had a gourmet chef on staff.”
She laughed, but her huge kitchen seemed smaller now with him in it, more intimate with his big body taking up so much space. His masculine scent wafted around her, stirring other hungers that she couldn’t feed. “I do.” She tapped her chest. “Me.”
He studied her for so long that she wondered at his thoughts.
“You’re not exactly what you seem,” he finally said in a gruff voice.
His quietly spoken words sent a tiny thrill through her because she knew it had cost him. Because maybe he felt the sexual tension charging the air.
Desire flared between them as they gazed at one another, but he turned away as if the connection between them had caught him off guard. Still, as she finished preparing the meal, the air thickened with his male scent and that odd feeling of intimacy intensified.
When she served him a dish and he dug into it with gusto, a sense of satisfaction filled her that she’d impressed him with her culinary skills. Her mind also took a dangerous journey as she imagined them sipping wine as they listened to music, cuddling on the couch, then slipping up to her suite hand in hand. He’d kiss her and trace his hands over her body, slowly undress her and feed her hunger with his mouth and tongue. And she’d tease him and prime his body for a night of hot lovemaking that would last for hours.
Her cell phone rang from inside her purse, and she was startled, her fork in midair. She didn
’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to intrude on the serene moment, but it jangled again, and Hayes sipped his tea, obviously oblivious to her fantasies.
Thank God. The tension of the investigation must be making her insane.
“Aren’t you going to answer the phone?” he asked.
She sighed, afraid it might be Miles ranting about their earlier visit. If so, she’d have to stand her ground. Clenching her hands, she crossed to the desk in the corner, removed the phone from her purse, then checked the number on the caller ID. Tony Morris, the private investigator she’d hired to locate information on the baby Margaret had given up for adoption years ago.
She grabbed the handset and walked to the living room out of earshot.
“Miss Landis,” a deep baritone voice said, “I have that information you requested.”
She inhaled sharply, running her fingers along the mantel as she glanced at a photograph of her and Margaret taken at a Christmas charity function. Margaret had talked about her baby that night, of all the holidays and birthdays she’d missed.
Nerves pinged inside her.
What if finding Margaret’s child somehow caused Margaret more pain?
Chapter Seven
“Miss Landis, are you there?”
Taylor’s breath gushed out. “Yes. Did you find out what happened to Miss Hathaway’s baby?”
“Yes,” Morris said. “The infant Miss Hathaway gave birth to was placed with a couple in San Antonio. Their name was Keller.”
“Keller?” Taylor staggered slightly. She couldn’t have heard him right.
“Yes, Keller. Apparently someone paid them to take the child, and they didn’t officially adopt him. They’d lost a son of their own, and never really connected with this boy. He got into some trouble as a teen and left home at seventeen.”
Taylor’s heart thumped madly in her chest. “What was the child’s name?”
“They named the little boy Hayes.”
The room spun sickeningly. It couldn’t be possible, could it?
Hayes was her best friend’s son?