by Rita Herron
Link Hathaway could have done the same thing.
“Mr. Hathaway, you keep a gun here?” he asked.
A vein bulged in Hathaway’s forehead but he nodded.
“Would you get it, please?” Egan said.
Hathaway reached inside the cherry credenza, retrieved a key and unlocked the top desk drawer. “Holy hell,” he muttered.
“What is it?” Margaret asked.
He jerked his head up, his gaze wide-eyed. “My .38 is missing.”
Margaret gasped, and Hayes and Egan exchanged looks. Was Hathaway feigning surprise or had he known the gun was gone?
“You always keep it in that drawer, not a safe?” Egan asked.
“Yes.”
Hayes narrowed his eyes. “When was the last time you saw it?”
Hathaway scratched his head. “A few days ago.”
“Dad?” Margaret’s voice sounded shaky.
“I haven’t had any reason to get it,” Hathaway said defensively.
Egan crossed his arms. “Who has had access to your office?”
Hathaway furrowed his brow in thought. “The staff…” He glanced at Egan. “Walt. But none of them would steal it.”
“Are you sure? Any of them or another visitor might have seen where you keep the key,” Egan pointed out.
“Who else has been here?” Hayes asked, unconvinced that Hathaway hadn’t used it to kill Morris, then ditched it.
Hathaway glanced at Margaret and hesitated.
Margaret twisted the silver chain again, drawing Hayes’s eyes toward the locket, the one holding his baby picture. “Dad, who?” Margaret whispered.
A long-suffering sigh escaped him. “Devon stopped by yesterday morning. And Kenneth and Tammy Sutton were here for lunch.”
Hayes grimaced. Sutton once again. But another thought niggled at him. “Devon knows you had a child, Margaret?”
Panic blazed in her eyes. “Yes.”
“He knew you were looking for him?”
Her expression turned wary. “I mentioned it to him.”
“What was his reaction?” Egan asked.
She hesitated. “He thought I should leave the past in the past.”
Hayes grunted. “If he knew Taylor had hired the P.I., he could have tried to stop him from giving her the information.”
“But he didn’t know that Taylor had hired Mr. Morris,” Margaret argued.
“How did you know about Morris, Mr. Hathaway?” Hayes asked.
Hathaway shifted and jammed his hands in the pockets of his pleated designer suit. “The damn fool came to me and showed me the documents he’d found.”
Hayes’s suspicions rose. “And what did you do?”
Hathaway glanced at Margaret, his shoulders tensing. “I offered to pay him to keep quiet.”
Bribery, Hayes thought sourly. “Did he accept your offer?”
Hathaway shook his head. “Said he had already been compensated. And he refused to tell me who hired him.”
But Hathaway had somehow found out. Hayes would bet money on it.
And he might have told Goldenrod. Then Margaret’s father and fiancé could have conspired to keep Taylor and Margaret from learning about him.
“I have to talk to Devon Goldenrod,” Hayes said.
Margaret thumbed her hand through her hair. “He’s out of town and won’t be back until tomorrow right before the party at Taylor’s.”
“Party?”
Margaret winced. “Yes, Taylor insisted on throwing it in honor of the wedding.”
A wedding he would have to attend as Taylor’s bodyguard. A wedding where he’d watch his mother marry a man who had just been added to his list of murder suspects.
Chapter Sixteen
Taylor’s stomach was so tied in knots, she found herself in the kitchen again. She made homemade pasta with fresh salmon, a spinach salad, appetizers of prosciutto and melon, garlic bread, and a decadent chocolate turtle pie.
She wondered if Hayes liked chocolate turtle pie. Or salmon.
And what was happening with him and Margaret and Link Hathaway.
Ranger McQuade was poring over Link’s phone records in the living room when Hayes returned. Her stomach vaulted to her throat as he entered.
The other ranger was missing in action—had he gone back to Caroline?
At first, she’d thought Caroline crazy for falling for Egan Caldwell, but now she understood the earthy sensual magnetism of these rangers. They were real men. Down to earth, strong, gutsy, protective…masculine and sexy as hell.
Heaven help her, but he looked so damn tempting in that dark Stetson with his dark eyes so brooding. His permanent five o’clock shadow only added to his mysterious soulful look, and her hands itched to touch him.
Instead she placed the appetizers on the bar along with a bottle of red wine, Scotch and a beer mug, just in case she could convince Hayes to have a drink with her.
Or more…
She’d never actually tried to seduce a man, but her imagination had had a field day the past hour, and she’d fantasized about the two of them working their frustrations out in bed.
What would Margaret say if Taylor slept with her son?
If she knew that Taylor was starting to have feelings for him?
He glanced at the bar as he entered, an eyebrow arched at the display of food. “Expecting company?”
“Just you,” she said, her cheeks heating.
An odd look simmered in his eyes…desire? Heat? Surprise?
Then he quickly masked it and grunted at Ranger McQuade when he loped in. “What’s the scoop?” Brody asked.
Hayes frowned. “Walt Caldwell claims Morris was dead when he arrived. He didn’t stick around because he heard a noise and thought the killer might still be there. We didn’t find a gun at his place.”
Brody harrumphed. “So he knew about you?”
“He claimed he didn’t know my name,” Hayes said. “Just that Hathaway was asking questions. He intended to bribe the P.I. to keep quiet, but was too late.”
“How’d Egan take it?” Brody asked.
Hayes shook his head. “He didn’t say much. But I think he believes his father.”
“And Hathaway?” Brody asked.
Hayes glanced at Taylor, his expression hooded. “Hathaway has a .38 but it was conveniently missing. The staff, Margaret’s fiancé, Devon Goldenrod, Egan’s father and the Suttons all had access to his office.”
Brody leaned one palm against the granite bar. “The suspects keep piling up.”
“Yeah,” Hayes agreed. “We stopped by Sutton’s after we left Hathaway’s, and he offered his weapon. I checked it and it hasn’t been fired recently. No GSR on his hands, either.”
“So Sutton didn’t shoot Morris?”
“Could have hired someone,” Hayes suggested.
“True. What else did Hathaway say?”
Hayes blew out a breath. “Link Hathaway admits he knew Morris was looking for Margaret’s child, but Morris refused the bribe.”
“A P.I. with morals,” Brody muttered. “That’s original.”
Hayes’s mouth almost twitched with a smile, and something tickled inside Taylor’s belly. She wanted to see him smile, see him happy.
Good grief. What was wrong with her? She poured herself a glass of wine then gestured in offering, but Brody shook his head and Hayes declined, as well, mumbling that he was on duty.
Yeah, being her bodyguard.
She wanted his body instead.
“Another twist, though,” Hayes said. “Apparently Devon Goldenrod knows that Margaret had a baby and didn’t want her looking for the kid.”
Taylor’s lungs tightened. Hayes uttered the comment as if he was a distant observer and this was just a case, not his mother, his life, they were discussing. Tears burned the back of her eyelids, and she looked up at him, her heart in her throat. His gaze caught hers, questioning, lingering, then he visibly flinched and jerked his head back toward the other ranger.
&nbs
p; “You talked to Goldenrod?” Ranger McQuade asked.
Hayes shook his head. “No, he’s out of town. Margaret said he’ll be back Saturday for the big party.” He gave Taylor a scathing look. “Which I think you should cancel.”
Taylor opened her mouth to reply, but Ranger McQuade spoke first. “No, let her have it. All the major players will be present. Something may happen.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Hayes said. “There will be too many people in one room. It’ll be harder to protect Taylor.”
“We’ll all be there for extra security,” Brody said.
Hayes nodded, his expression stony. He obviously wanted to end the investigation so he could leave Cantara Hills. Leave Margaret and her behind.
Taylor sipped her wine. She didn’t know why that thought bothered her so badly.
Because she wanted him to forgive Margaret, to have a relationship with her best friend?
Or because she wanted time to make him fall in love with her?
THE NEXT DAY, TENSION tightened Hayes’s shoulders as he entered the ballroom inside Taylor’s estate with Taylor on his arm. She looked stunning in the emerald-green satin ball gown that showcased her curves and cleavage.
Hellacious desires bombarded him. The woman was torturing him. The night before she’d been almost solicitous. Sweet, smiling at him, offering him a cold beer—a beer, for God’s sake, when he figured the woman wouldn’t allow it in her house. And that dinner she’d prepared had been mouthwatering.
Gorgeous and she could cook…
Was she as good in bed as she was in the kitchen?
Today, watching her calmly organize the details of the event tonight, he’d realized that she was…amazing. Organized and businesslike, but kind and respectful to the vendors and staff, treating them almost like friends or respected coworkers, not as if they were her underlings. And she cared about Margaret.
Still, she was way out of his league.
He tugged at the tie to the suit she’d had sent over for him, feeling completely out of place. He wanted his jeans and Stetson.
But Taylor had argued that if he wore the suit, he’d blend in.
He didn’t want to blend in.
Except that out of uniform he’d put the guests more at ease, and maybe catch them off guard.
Taylor smiled at him from across the room, and his heart tripped. Hell, he was a red-blooded man and he wanted Taylor Landis. At least his body did. His mind protested, but his hunger seemed destined to ignore logic.
For the next hour, he followed her around like a damn puppy, making sure she was safe, yet salivating as she greeted strangers with a hug. These people were her friends, her kind of people.
He wasn’t.
And of course, every man in the room appeared smitten with her, which only stoked his irritation as the night wore on.
Violin and piano music played from the orchestra on the stage and an ice statue of two doves created a centerpiece. Flowing chocolate fountains were interspersed throughout the room, along with dozens of fresh flower arrangements.
Food he’d never heard of or considered eating was artfully arranged on white linen tablecloths, and waiters dressed in monkey suits carried silver trays laden with appetizers, crystal flutes of champagne, wine and martinis. The attendees wore glitzy evening gowns and tuxes, and diamonds and other gemstones glittered beneath the chandeliers.
His stomach growled for a burger and brewsky.
But he wasn’t here as a guest, he reminded himself, just to guard Taylor and investigate her friends. Link Hathaway, dressed in a gray tux that matched his silver-gray hair, stood by a staging area, watching his daughter as if he was afraid Hayes might get too close to her. Margaret smiled at him across the room, although sadness flickered in her eyes when he didn’t return the gesture, and his gut clenched. Pretty boy Goldenrod had arrived with her, his manicured hand lying possessively across her back as they wove through the crowd.
Against the women’s wishes, Brody and Egan had kept Victoria and Caroline away, but they insisted they would attend the wedding. Hopefully, the Rangers would have solved this case and Hayes and the Rangers could skip the ceremony. He didn’t want to be anywhere near that shindig—instead he’d be riding his horse across his land while his birth mother married into politics.
Kenneth and Tammy Sutton rolled in to applause, although Hayes noticed Goldenrod’s smile seemed forced.
Was there tension between the two men? And if so, why?
Politics? Maybe something to do with those illegal bids? Or was it personal?
A cloud of perfume swirled around Tammy Sutton as she glided past him, but she ignored him as if he was invisible and swept Taylor into a hug. “This is marvelous, darling. You always throw the best parties, Taylor. I don’t know what we’d do without you around here.”
“Thanks, Tammy,” Taylor said. “I’m so glad you and Kenneth could make it. I understand how busy your schedule has been with the campaign.”
“Yes,” Tammy said, brushing a bejeweled hand up to pat her husband’s cheek. “It has been hectic, but well worth it. Soon Kenneth will be sitting in the governor’s chair where he belongs.”
Or in jail, Hayes thought sourly.
“I know,” Taylor agreed. “It’s an exciting time for both of you.”
Kenneth took Taylor’s hands in his. “I couldn’t have accomplished all I did for the city council without a great team. I’ll be forever grateful to you, Taylor.”
Taylor smiled. “Of course. You know you’ve earned my loyalty.”
Link Hathaway moved up beside Devon Goldenrod while Margaret approached Taylor. “This is lovely, Taylor.” She glanced at him, a softness in her eyes that twisted at him. “I’m glad you’re here, Hayes.”
“I’m here to protect Taylor, nothing more,” Hayes said curtly.
Taylor glared at him, and Margaret’s smile faltered. “I know, and I’m thankful for that. She doesn’t deserve to be in danger, especially because she was trying to do something nice for me.”
He couldn’t argue with her over that, or stand to see her looking at him as if she wanted his forgiveness, so he excused himself. He needed to focus, to talk to Goldenrod.
Eyes trained on the man, he cut him off before Hathaway reached him, although he had no doubt that Margaret’s father had already warned Goldenrod that Hayes would be asking questions.
He wanted to observe the man’s reaction personally. Feel him out and see if he had a hidden agenda.
Did he love Margaret?
Hayes adjusted his tie, a smile cracking his lips when he noticed Goldenrod’s thumb raking up and down the stem of his champagne flute as if he was nervous.
“Mr. Goldenrod,” Hayes said. “I’m Ranger Keller.”
“I know who you are,” Goldenrod said with an edge to his voice that indicated he was also aware that he was Margaret’s son.
“Then you realize why I’m here.”
“Because you want access to Margaret’s wealth.”
Anger surged through Hayes. “No, because of the attempt on Taylor Landis’s life and Morris’s murder. I intend to find the person responsible and lock him behind bars.”
The two of them indulged in a stare-off for several tense seconds.
“I don’t know how I can help you.”
“Do you own a gun?” Hayes asked.
Goldenrod shook his head. “No. Haven’t felt the need.”
“Where were you night before last?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Hayes said. “Even if Margaret didn’t tell you about my visit to her and her father, Hathaway did. You know the private investigator who was working for Taylor was murdered.”
“I was in Houston,” Goldenrod said. “On business.”
“I suppose you have witnesses?”
He nodded, not a blade of his sandy-blond hair moving. “A roomful.”
Hayes twisted his mouth in thought. For some reason he didn’t li
ke this man. Didn’t trust him.
“Now, I suggest you leave me and Margaret alone,” Goldenrod said, dropping his voice a decibel. “She and I are to be wed, and I don’t intend to let anything stop the ceremony.” His eyes glinted like ice. “I won’t allow you to cause trouble for her or hurt her.”
Hayes raised a brow. That was rich, Goldenrod threatening him.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Goldenrod asked.
Hayes gritted his teeth at the bastard. “Oh, yeah, I hear you.” He pushed his face into Goldenrod’s. “But you don’t scare me, pretty boy. And if you had anything to do with the attacks on Taylor, then I’ll lock your ass up and throw away the key.”
He stormed away, leaving Goldenrod with that message. When he looked up, Margaret was watching, her face lined with concern.
The tinkle of spoons clinking against glass rippled through the air, and voices began to hush. Taylor walked up the steps to the stage, her delicious curves mesmerizing him as she took the microphone. “I want to welcome you all to the party tonight. We’re here to honor my best friend Margaret Hathaway and her fiancé, Devon Goldenrod. Let’s raise our glasses to toast their upcoming nuptials.”
Taylor lifted her glass and a chorus of shouts rang out as guests whispered and cheered. Link Hathaway climbed the steps, a smile stretching across his face.
But suddenly a shot rang out, shattering the ice statue on stage, and chaos erupted. Guests screamed and ducked, running from the room.
Hayes jerked his gun from his holster, and yelled for Taylor to get down as another bullet zoomed toward her.
Chapter Seventeen
Taylor screamed and ducked behind the statue, and Link Hathaway dashed down the steps toward Margaret. Guests yelled and ran, glasses shattered on the floor as people scurried for safety and another shot flew by her head.
“Stay down, Taylor!” Hayes braced his gun to fire as he scanned the room, then he must have zeroed in on the shooter’s location because he ran toward the side entry to the stage behind a curtained off area, vaulted through the opening and fired a shot.
She couldn’t see what was happening, only hear the panicked sounds of the guests and Margaret calling her name. But when she looked up, Link and Devon Goldenrod had sequestered Margaret between them. And the other Rangers were searching the room.