by Angi Morgan
“That’s ridiculous. Ranger or not, I don’t know if you’re trustworthy. Would you expect your sister to just hand over her clothes to a stranger?”
“I wouldn’t expect my sister to be in this position. And I do have a sister who I expect to do whatever’s necessary. That is, if she’d been rescued from someone trying to hunt her down and murder her. Yeah, she’d do whatever the man protecting her suggested. Within reason, of course.”
“Murder is a strong word.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not mine. Your friend is the one who used it. Don’t forget, we’re both in the dark here. Especially the part where Wade felt this was the only place for you to stay.”
“Who’s Wade? And if I knew details, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be getting to the bottom of whatever’s going on. Life would be a little less complicated if Therese had just explained everything.” Megan mumbled the last sentence, mixing it with a yawn. “Can’t you call and ask or something? Surely your phone’s okay to use.”
Jack couldn’t blame Megan. Not really. Right now he didn’t know if his partner was safe, either. Whatever had happened, it must be disconcerting to be drugged and told to stay with a stranger with no other place to hide.
“Wade isn’t big on phones when he’s suggested someone needs to lie low.” He really did hope the phone was just off and that his partner was alive. But he couldn’t get distracted. This woman knew he was a ranger, but he didn’t trust her to stay put. He perched his fists on his hips. That stance always worked to make him look serious. “For the record, Megan, I am willing to barge in or to handcuff you to the bed. Don’t doubt me.”
“I’m not giving you my clothes.”
“Just doing you a favor. Thought you might want clean stuff that fit you tomorrow.”
“I have a change of clothes in my roll-on.” Realization showed in her expressive eyes as she released a long sigh and dropped her chin to her chest in defeat.
She’d left her bag at the airport. “Yeah. So I’ve got a washing machine for your clothes and I’ll leave a T-shirt for you to sleep in. Take your time in the tub.”
He was confident she wouldn’t run out the door naked. Or... How the heck did you judge if a person would run around without clothes? So he held off on finding the only set of pajamas he owned. He heard the water and went to the storage closet on the back porch for the cot and to start her laundry—right after he removed his wet uniforms and shoved them in the dryer.
The bathroom window was open a crack, and a “blast it that’s hot” floated through along with a “right about one thing” from Megan.
“What’s the deal with her, huh, Junior?” he asked the bloodhound on the other side of the chain-link fence.
Jack leaned against the porch post, watching the old hound do his business and creep back through the dog door he’d installed for Mrs. Dennis a couple of years ago. He didn’t have an opinion one way or the other about trouble appearing on his doorstep. Life had been simple for the last several years. At least his life.
Now, Wade’s, on the other hand, was one complicated mission after another where only he knew the agenda. Why or what his partner was punishing himself for, Jack didn’t know. And Wade would never say.
There was one thing for certain. If Jack’s partner was going out completely on his own again, there’d be hell to pay. The Rangers didn’t operate that way. Sure, they were invited to help with cases all the time, but their superiors decided those cases. The secretiveness about Megan Harper had trouble written all over it.
“What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into, Megan?” she asked herself in the tub. Her voice was nice and alto deep.
Smooth enough that he wouldn’t get tired of listening to it. He should probably go back inside instead of hoping she’d spill why someone was trying to kill her.
There was plenty of time to figure things out in the morning with a cup of caffeine so everything made sense.
* * *
STAKEOUTS HAD PREPARED Jack for sleeping on any surface for any short amount of time possible. Four years later and the training still kicked in when needed. Late nights on assignment, helping a small-town sheriff or chasing after his partner, who was only an arm’s reach from trouble when left on his own.
He’d done his best to convince Megan, but she’d chosen the cot stretched across the bedroom door. He didn’t think she’d managed any real sleep at all. She’d tossed all night long. So much, in fact, that Jack had debated waking her up to insist she take the bed. But he doubted she would have slept soundly anywhere.
Megan had cried in her sleep—sort of whimpering, as if she was having a nightmare. Her eyes were still closed when he pulled a T-shirt on, lifted her from the cot and tucked her under his blanket. He’d waited several minutes before sneaking out of the bedroom.
Tonight she’d be in his bed. Period.
“Hell, I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud to her.” He flipped the switch on the coffee maker and waited within sight of his bedroom door.
There wasn’t any way for him to get out of the homecoming meeting. He was the one who needed to confirm the parade route and who would be in charge at the beginning and end. He ended his one-sided debate knowing that Megan would have to go with him.
Clicking on the TV, he texted his sister about borrowing women’s clothes and sat in his chair to drink his coffee. Just like he did most mornings. There wasn’t much of a routine to follow or disrupt when he was home. Simple life in a simple town. He’d just slurped when the news program splashed a picture of his houseguest in full-screen fifty-seven-inch HD glory.
He spewed. Coffee went everywhere, including up his nose. It wasn’t pleasant and the rest was nearly in his lap as he read the accompanying scrolling headline.
“Hell’s bells. What is Wade thinking?”
“Is everything all right?” Megan came hurrying into the room, shoving her hair away from her face. “Oh my God. They’re using all three of my names as if I’m a serial killer.”
Ticking across the bottom of the screen was a limited account of a man being shot in Dallas last night, allegedly by TDI Intelligence Analyst Megan Lilly Harper.
It registered, even if only for a fraction of a second, that the robe she’d slept in was now open. It was hanging loose over the long T-shirt he’d given her and showing the well-toned body he’d done his best to ignore more than once.
They both listened as the news report recounted events from the previous evening in Austin. The little bulletin strip kept running Megan’s name and that she was wanted for questioning by state authorities.
“Rethinking that promise not to betray me?” Megan asked.
“Actually...no. I was with you yesterday, so I know you’re being framed.”
“Where are my clothes? I’ll get dressed and we can go clear this up.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Megan. They have witnesses, too.” Damn. “Who the heck do you work for, and what’s an intelligence analyst?”
“The Texas Department of Insurance, and I work for the State Fire Marshal’s Office. Our agency is a part of TDI. ‘Intelligence analyst’ sounds a lot more dramatic than it actually is. I gather information about fires and—” she shrugged “—analyze it.”
“The news is making it sound like you’re a spy or something.”
She shook her head, her long brown hair framing her face, hiding her expression. “Oh, no. Seriously, most of my job is in a cubicle. I have no idea why anyone wants to frame me for murder.”
No idea? She was holding back why, and he knew it. “They have eyewitnesses.”
“So do I, and mine’s a Texas Ranger. I mean, if you need an alibi, I have a great one.” She shoved her hair back behind her tanned face, then dropped her palm against the bare skin of her thigh. “Look, I don’t know what’s up, but you know I didn’t do this. Whoever’s behind the murder m
ust be using a woman who looks like me.”
“That makes sense, but I’m not the one who has to be convinced you’re telling the truth.”
“So where are my clothes? I need to rent a car and get back to Austin. I made a huge mistake leaving.”
“I don’t think you did.”
Her mouth dropped open. If he looked hard enough, he might just see her tonsils. He was fascinated with how all her emotions were just...visible. No second-guessing what this gal was feeling.
“So we’re agreed. I need my clothes.” She pulled the robe closed and tied the belt.
“First of all, they aren’t dry. I was sipping my coffee before actually doing anything. Second, there was a reason you chose not to stay. Someone drugged you and tried to abduct you. Maybe you should remember that. Third thing—I might agree that it’s gonna look like a mistake by not turning yourself in, but that doesn’t mean you need to...yet. I gave my word to keep you safe. I’m keeping it. And fourth—”
“There’s more?”
“No rental cars or taxis in Liberty Hill. Only way you’re getting back to Austin is to hitch a ride. I’m pretty sure that’s not the best way for you to travel right now.”
“For a small-town man, you certainly take a long time to get to the point.”
“Sorry, I’m not trying to be evasive.” Nope, he was teasing her and couldn’t help it. “I’m a little distracted by the dilemma facing me if anyone finds out I’m harboring a...what? Or is it a who? You aren’t really a criminal. Not yet, anyway. So I can’t call you a fugitive.”
“Please stop. Just stop.” She covered her eyes with her fingertips and then rubbed her temples. “I can’t think.”
“This isn’t complicated. Okay, it’s a little complicated. Someone convinced my partner to protect you—” His brain screeched to a halt as realization clicked things in place for his guest. Or prisoner. He could see it going either way.
She nodded. “Your partner? I thought Therese said they’d worked with you.”
Jack was cussing a bit in his head. Since joining the Rangers, he’d given up smoking and curbed his four-letter vocabulary to consist of hell. It was much better for his image.
His partner, on the other hand, didn’t have any reason to hold back and wouldn’t when he found out Megan was wanted for murder. That was, if he checked in anytime soon. Why would he put them in this situation?
“So what now? How fast should I be ready to go?”
“I’m not sure. This is a bit unusual.” Jack hated to think that his partner might be in serious trouble for circumventing an arrest. It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t get the sound of gunfire out of his head. And he was certain it had been gunfire.
“Well, it certainly is for me. I’ve never been in trouble before. For crying out loud, I used to be a cop.” Her arms bounced up and down against her thighs, the sound muffled by his robe.
“Wade might have a history of jumping in headfirst without checking how deep the water is. But...”
Megan arched her eyebrows, clearly wanting the rest of the explanation.
“I’ve never known why or how, but he’s almost always right.” There was no turning back. “The man has a sixth sense about things like this. He said you need protecting, and not twelve hours later you’re being framed for murder.”
Hell, she was wanted for murder.
“You can’t keep me here. You’re a Texas Ranger.”
“Right.” He covered the short space to the door with a couple of strides. He needed to take a minute. Just think of something other than the consequences of going against orders—although he didn’t really have any at the moment.
“You aren’t seriously thinking about trying to hide me. I don’t want to be hidden. No matter what anyone thinks, I’m the best qualified to discover why someone wants to frame me for murder.”
He could believe that. If she was an analyst like she claimed, that meant she looked through information and solved problems. She probably had more experience than he did at solving mysteries of this nature.
He hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked out back across the pasture. Mrs. D. waved as she got in her car. “See you in town, Little Jack.”
Thoughts were racing through his head faster than he could collect him. If he did this, then that would happen. And if he did that, then this would happen. He pushed through the emotional tug of wanting to please everyone. A physical impossibility. Someone was going to get hurt.
Or fired. He watched the horses grazing, wishing he’d carried his coffee with him across the room. When all was said and done, he could count on Wade. He already had done so more than once. Bottom line, he should wait before moving forward. Gather more information, but wait.
“We may not know much about what’s going on, Megan. But there’s one thing you can count on.” He paused, waiting on her to look at him so she’d see his sincerity. “You can trust my partner.”
Chapter Three
Megan needed a minute of alone time and she was out of here. She could find a pair of jeans and keep them around her waist with a belt. She’d seen Jack’s keys in the end-table drawer with his ID and weapon. She would have to borrow his truck and hope it wasn’t a stick shift.
There was a second vehicle inside the garage, but it was marked with the city insignia. It would be just her luck if it had City of Liberty Hill emblazoned on the back window.
All she needed was a few minutes alone and she could be heading home. Shoot, she was already wanted for murder. What was a little grand theft auto?
“Shouldn’t you shower before you leave?” she asked, hoping that he’d disappear for a few minutes, then remembering he didn’t have one.
“I always soak before bed. But thanks for the personal-hygiene tip. Good thing it’s my day off and I don’t have to shave. Follow me.” They went into the bedroom, and he crossed to a stack of T-shirts on top of a dresser. “Here’s a medium. You’re going to need something to wear before we leave for the meeting.”
She caught the purple shirt that had a gold panther head on it. “Oh, no. I’m not heading to wherever you’re heading. Especially not dressed like a teenager.”
He’d slept in his jeans—obviously not his best, but it didn’t look like he was changing out of them. Just his white undershirt. She’d seen great ab muscles before, but it didn’t hurt to admire some again. Just as long as he didn’t see her admiring them.
“Will you feel better if I wear one, too?” he asked, pulling one off the stack and sticking his arms through.
“No, Jack. It doesn’t make me feel any better at all.” She swiped up the pajama bottoms he’d given her last night that she could pull up to her armpits. She’d chosen to sleep without them.
It wasn’t her first time to be half-dressed around a man. She’d been a cop. She knew the locker-room jokes and bro code. She also knew she’d have to get out of here the hard way. She waited until he began pulling his head through the T-shirt and tossed hers at him.
The man had excellent reflexes and caught it. When his hands were occupied, Megan could have sucker punched him. She probably should have sucker punched him. But she didn’t. She ran out of the room, intending to trip him or slam a door in his face.
He was faster than she’d thought. Faster getting untangled and faster out of the room. He lunged for her and pulled her to her knees before she could reach the front door. He covered her with his long body before she could get her arms out from under her when they’d broken her fall.
She shoved. He rolled to his back, keeping her on top of him.
Awkward. But she didn’t stop to dwell on it.
“Let me go or...”
“Settle down, Megan. I am not going to hit a girl.”
Famous last words as she pulled her elbow free and jammed it into his solar plexus. She rolled and sent her fist into the same soft s
pot. Now Jack couldn’t catch his breath.
“Good thing I don’t mind hitting boys.”
He coughed and she yanked the drawer open, grabbing his keys. She ran outside and jumped inside the unlocked vehicle. Great—the truck was stick.
It didn’t matter now. She’d chosen this path and would have to follow through. Car in Reverse. Jack running down the porch steps. Foot on gas pedal...
Foot stomping on brake when a car pulled into the driveway behind her. She barely avoided a collision but couldn’t avoid the half-dressed man aiming a Smith & Wesson directly at her.
“What in the world is going on here? Someone trying to steal your truck?”
“Get the hell out,” Jack ordered her.
She put the car in Park and killed the engine as the vehicle behind her did the same. Megan couldn’t catch a break, although she might not have gotten too far in a stolen truck of a Texas Ranger anyway. A young woman unfolded her tall frame from the bright red Miata now blocking Megan’s exit. Jack ignored the newcomer and came straight to her.
Reaching through the car’s window, he removed his keys before swinging open the door and tugging Megan from the driver’s seat. “I’d charge you with assaulting an officer of the law, but it pales in comparison to felony murder.”
He quickly ushered her inside the house and led her to the couch. Megan couldn’t decide if he was more upset that she’d taken him down or that she’d almost gotten away in his truck.
Footsteps on the front porch reminded her that someone else had witnessed her failed escape attempt. Was it another cop or a potential ally? Who was she fooling? If they knew Jack, they’d obviously be on his side.
The witness walked into the house without knocking. Probably not on Megan’s side.
“You didn’t mention why you wanted clothes, and now I’m not certain I want to know.” Her eyes shifted from him to Megan.
“Shut the door.” He waited until the woman complied, and then he swiftly snapped one handcuff against Megan’s wrist. She watched him scanning the room for something, probably some permanent fixture to affix the other bracelet to. He shook his head and snapped it to his wrist as the anger rolled off him in waves.