by Rita Herron
Cole slammed the door again, and it swung open with a vicious whoosh. His boots pounded on the floor as he ran inside. She glanced sideways, crawled to her hands and knees, but the room was still spinning. “Go get him!” she snarled between clenched teeth.
“Dammit!” Cole checked the window, then ran back and knelt beside her. “Joey, are you all right?”
“Yes, I said go after him!”
“Let me call 911 and get security!”
“No, I’ll call security. Go after the bastard!”
Cole glared at her, but jumped up and vaulted toward the door to give chase. She struggled to drag herself upright while he disappeared out the door.
WEAPON DRAWN, Cole searched the shadows near the inn for signs of Joey’s attacker, but didn’t see him on the street or in the bushes flanking the property. With the rising panic in town, most people had obviously chosen to stay home or turn in before dark so the streets were nearly deserted. Still, a few stragglers moved along the storefronts and town square, but no one was running or acting suspicious. A teenage couple making out beneath the awning of the drugstore. Two cowboys exiting the Last Call. An old-timer walking his dog.
Frustration clawed at Cole. The guy had slithered through town to a getaway vehicle or slunk off into the neighboring woods. His guess would be the woods.
He ventured into the thicket of trees nearest the inn, watching for movement. Animals scurried through the brush, a dog howled somewhere in the distance, and mosquitoes swarmed around his face. Storm clouds crawled above, turning the sky a more ominous black and robbing any light the moon might have offered.
Sweat trickled down his jaw as he slipped through the forest, padding slowly so as not to disturb the brush and alert the man as to his presence should he be hiding nearby. He spent a half hour searching, pausing at each turn, looking in the shadows, but came up empty.
Resigned the guy had escaped, Cole walked back through the thick woods, taking a different route in case he’d missed something. But when he reached the inn, he still hadn’t spotted the man. Worried about Joey, he hurried inside the inn. A young guy who looked like he was barely twenty glanced up from the front desk with a frown.
“Where in the hell is your security guard?” Cole barked.
The boy gestured toward a gray-haired man hobbling toward them. “Miss Hendricks called. I checked her floor and the main one, but didn’t find anyone.”
Cole rolled his eyes. The old geezer looked as if he was half-blind himself, and was moving like a turtle.
“Call the sheriff’s office. Tell dispatch to put you through to Lieutenant Zane McKinney and Sergeant Sloan McKinney there immediately!”
“Right.” The man fumbled with his flashlight, then reached for his cell phone. “I’m all over it.”
Cole did not feel comforted by the thought. But he ran up the stairwell toward Joey’s room anyway. He had to see her and make sure she was really all right.
When he rounded the corner, the door still stood ajar. Dammit, she should have locked it. What was she thinking?
Ready to ream into her, he barreled inside. She was sitting on the bed in a crouched position as if she was in pain. But she held a .38 in her shaky hands, and it was aimed at him.
JOEY’S HANDS trembled as she fixed the gun on the silhouette in the doorway. She’d heard the footsteps and hoped it was Cole, but she refused to be caught off guard again.
“Joey?” The shadow slowly held up a hand. “It’s me, Cole. Put down the gun slowly.”
Her breath tumbled from her mouth, full of relief, and she finally allowed herself to relax. Still, her hand jerked as she lowered the weapon. “Did you catch him?”
Cole shook his head, his expression stony as he moved into the room. “I searched the neighboring streets and woods, but he disappeared. “Are you all right?”
No, she was a mess, but she hated to admit it. As tough as she’d always perceived herself to be, and although she had taken self-defense classes, a real attack was different from a staged one in a practice setting.
“Did you call for an ambulance?”
“I don’t need a doctor, Cole. I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you.” Cole slid down onto the bed beside her, checked the safety on the gun, then placed it inside the nightstand drawer. Then he tilted her chin up with his thumb. “Where did he hurt you?”
Concern tinged his gruff voice, bringing unwanted tears to her eyes. She blinked them away, hoping he hadn’t seen them, furious with herself.
“Ahh, Joey.”
A sob escaped her as Cole pulled her into his arms. She collapsed against his chest, grateful not to be alone with the memories of the man who’d attacked her.
He crushed her into his arms, and stroked her hair gently as he rocked her back and forth. “Are you really all right? You don’t need a doctor?”
“No…” She clutched his arms, savoring his strength and the scent of his raw masculinity.
He brushed a hand across her cheek and forced her to look at him. “Tell me what happened.”
Her throat ached with the effort to hold back more tears. “I thought someone was behind me on the stairwell, so I rushed into the room and slammed the door shut. He grabbed me as soon as I came inside.”
“He was inside the room when you entered?”
She nodded and leaned her head against his chest again, remembering the feel of the man’s hand at her throat. Then his voice in her ear. “He told me to stop nosing around or Donna would end up hurt.”
“He threatened your mother?”
“Yes.”
He trailed his hand down her back, and she winced. “He did hurt you?”
“I’m just bruised.”
“Let me see.” His fingers went to the bottom of her shirt, but she pushed his hands away.
“Stop it, Cole. I’m fine.”
“Then show me.” His dark eyes dared her to prove her statement.
She ground her teeth together, and shook her head.
He reached for his cell phone. “Then I’m calling the paramedics.”
“No.” She rested her hand on his, waiting for him to rescind his threat, but he didn’t back down. Instead he reached for her shirt again. She sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes, trembling as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt, and parted the fabric. Cool air kissed her skin as his fingers trailed over her body. In spite of the fact that he only meant to check her injuries, her nipples beaded beneath the flaming red lace of her bra. His own hiss told her that he noticed her reaction.
“He kicked me in the back,” she said in a low voice. “And my shoulders.”
“Turn around.”
“Cole?”
“Do it, Joey.”
His harsh voice reeked of anger. She huffed in frustration and pivoted while he examined her back. His fingers gently traced a path over the sore tissue, trailing from her shoulder blades down to her waist. Then he turned her in his arms, and she felt raw, vulnerable. Exposed.
One look down at his hands and she itched to have them stroking her other places. Quivering with need, she glanced at his eyes and saw a mixture of emotions. Desire flickered in the depths along with fury.
“I’m going to kill the SOB,” he muttered.
“Cole…” He hushed her with a finger to her lips, then lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his mouth. She clung to his arms, and parted her lips for him.
COLE HAD NO IDEA what had possessed him, but one minute he was examining the bruises on Joey’s beautiful body, his anger rising like a beast within him, and he’d wanted to kill the man, then the next minute he’d dragged her into his arms and fused his mouth with hers.
She tasted like beer and sin and temptation, a heady combination. Yet she’d been attacked, and needed comfort. Not to be mauled by another man. Behind him, the sound of footsteps registered. A man’s voice followed.
“Excuse me. I thought this was an emergency.”
Cole pulled away from Joey, and y
anked her shirt together, angling himself to shield her as Zane McKinney’s stern voice registered.
Hellfire and damnation. He’d come here to prove he was a professional and now his half brothers had caught him behaving anything but professionally. Joey’s expression morphed somewhere between the pale shock of her attack, pain from the physical wounds and crimson from embarrassment. He stood, giving her time to rebutton her shirt while he blocked the door.
“I did ask the security guard to call you,” Cole said. “Miss Hendricks was attacked in her room. I was just checking her injuries.”
Zane’s left eyebrow rose a fraction as a small smile played on his mouth. “Is that what you were doing?”
“Yes.” Although the kiss had shaken him to the core. Coupled with the fact that she might have died tonight, his emotions flew into a tailspin. Pure animal lust mixed with white-hot fury rallied through him.
Joey stood and approached Zane. “A man broke into my room and threatened me, Lieutenant McKinney. Cole showed up and tried to catch him, but he managed to escape.”
“Are you all right? Should I call a doctor?”
“No, I’m just bruised,” Joey insisted.
“Did you see the assailant?” Zane asked.
Joey shook her head. “No, it was too dark, and he grabbed me from behind.”
“Did he say anything?”
She gave Cole a wary look but nodded. “He told me to drop the investigation or my mother would get hurt.”
Cole chewed the inside of his cheek. For some reason he sensed Joey was holding something back. Had her attacker threatened her in another way?
Sloan appeared and frowned at him as he poked his head in the room. “I thought you were leaving town, Cole.”
“I’m not going,” he announced. “Not until we find out what’s going on around here.”
His brothers’ reactions were exactly what he expected. Both glared at him as if the subject wasn’t open for discussion. They had dismissed him, and he was supposed to comply.
But Cole had never been a compliant child. And he certainly wasn’t as an adult. Like it or not, he didn’t intend to leave Joey now. Not after that cataclysmic kiss. And not with the killer breathing down her neck with threats.
Chapter Seven
Joey sensed the tension between Cole and the McKinney brothers. Tension born from their parent’s mistakes, a fact that had automatically set the men against each other just as the investigation put them all on opposite sides.
The next two hours whizzed by in a chaotic nightmare. Lieutenant Zane McKinney took charge, ordered a crime scene unit to search the room for trace evidence, check the security tapes and insisted that a doctor evaluate her and photograph and record her injuries. Obviously feeling displaced, Cole volunteered to drive her to the hospital and waited while she was X-rayed and processed to the letter of the law.
True, she wanted to catch her assailant, but she also knew he was probably a hired hand, not the top dog behind the crimes. And she vacillated between various interpretations of his threat. Had he meant that he would hurt Donna if she didn’t steer the investigation away from her, or that exposing the truth would hurt Donna?
Both terrified her in different ways. The first that Donna might be physically harmed. The latter that Donna had actually been involved in the murders.
Anxiety hit her full force—did she believe her mother was innocent or guilty?
She wanted to think that she had been a victim…but Donna had been drinking years ago when Lou Anne had been killed, and had hated Lou Anne. She’d had motive, opportunity and the capabilities to pull it off. She was physically fit, could shoot a gun and she’d been desperate to regain custody of her son. Getting rid of Lou Anne and framing Leland for the crime would have been her ticket to reverse the court decision.
A dull ache settled in her chest at the thought. She didn’t want to believe that her mother had committed murder or tried to cover up by shooting the sheriff and burning down the jail.
Tears pricked at her eyelids, and she blinked them away as she walked to the waiting room to meet Cole. She’d never admitted her feelings to anyone, not even herself. But for years, she had craved Donna’s affection and love.
Joey’s childhood haunted her. She’d wondered why Donna had preferred booze to tucking her children in at night. Why at thirteen, when she’d been struggling with adolescence, with being a tomboy and a gangly too-tall teenager, Donna had fallen into depression and alcohol.
And Joey and Justin had been caught in a tug-of-war that followed. Pawns in the vindictive battle Donna and Leland had waged against one another.
But Justin had lost the most.
Cole stood by the waiting room door with a cup of coffee in hand, his expression solemn. “Everything all right?”
How could it be when one or both of her parents might be killers?
She nodded, though, determined to see this investigation through. “I’m free to go now.”
“Good. I told the doc to send the trace to our lab. Maybe we’ll get evidence to nail this guy.”
Joey remained silent as they walked out to the car. The summer heat was oppressive, making her clothes stick to her skin. The smell of her attacker still clung to her, or maybe it was the scent of her own fear. She desperately wanted a shower and some rest. But when she closed her eyes, she knew she would see that shadow lunge for her. She’d feel his hands tightening around her throat, and the gun pressed at the base of her skull.
A shudder tore through her as she climbed in the car Cole had borrowed from the Rangers. “Did you think of anything else about your attacker?” Cole asked.
Joey massaged her temple and closed her eyes, reliving the assault. “He had an Hispanic accent.” She jerked her eyes open. “I didn’t think about that at the time.”
“Probably a hired hand. Maybe an illegal.”
Which meant he’d be impossible to find. But she’d been right—he was working for someone else.
But whom?
“Unfortunately he ducked the security cameras.” Cole’s lips curled into a snarl. “What about earlier tonight? Did you talk to anyone who might have followed you?”
She tried to remember if she’d seen anyone watching her at the bar. “I had a beer at the Last Call and talked to Bud for a while.”
Cole veered onto the street to the inn. “Learn anything new?”
“He suggested that both Jim McKinney and Lou Anne Wallace had other affairs.”
Cole grunted. “I’m not surprised.”
“Then it’s possible that one of their lovers might have killed Lou Anne.”
“It sounds feasible. Of course Stella had reason to want Lou Anne dead, too.”
“I think we should talk to both of them,” Joey said.
Cole chuckled sarcastically. “I’m sure she’ll welcome seeing me.”
“I can question her if you want, Cole.”
He shrugged. “I don’t need coddling, Joey. Hell, maybe I’ll pay Jim McKinney a visit. It’s time I met the man.”
Joey squeezed his hand. In spite of the unbearable heat, the chill that had pervaded her earlier grew in intensity. They both had to face their fathers with difficult questions.
Lou Anne’s affair with Jim had been hard on Leland’s ego. And if she’d threatened to report his plan to the police or Donna, he had motive to kill Lou Anne. Another affair would rub salt into his wounds and might have sent him over the edge.
But would her own father hire someone to attack her to protect himself or Donna?
She had to know the truth. She only hoped she could live with whatever she discovered.
WHEN COLE ESCORTED Joey back into the inn, the crime scene unit was finishing processing the room.
“Get your things and we’ll move you,” Cole said.
Joey nodded and hurried to repack her suitcase while Cole arranged for a room, then conferred with Zane and Sloan in the hall. “Did you find anything?”
Zane shrugged. “Sorry. No
prints. He must have worn gloves.”
“We received word about the bullet you found in the woods,” Sloan said. “Forensics lifted a partial and is running it now. If we’re lucky, the print is in the system. If not, at least when we catch this guy, we’ll have something to use as a comparison.”
“Let me know if you get a hit or a name,” Cole said. He thought about the silver star he’d found in the woods. If Jim was guilty of two murders, had he hired someone to kill Joey? Or maybe to scare her away?
Zane cleared his throat. “Look, Cole, we appreciate your help, but we can handle the situation now.”
“I’m not leaving town,” Cole said. “Not while Joey is in danger.”
“I didn’t know you two were that close,” Zane said.
Cole narrowed his eyes. “We’re not. But it looks like she might need protection. That comes with our job title, doesn’t it, Lieutenant?”
Zane grunted, but Cole thought he detected a small smile on Sloan’s mouth. They might not respect him because he was their illegitimate half brother, but he had proven his worth today. In fact, if he hadn’t been around, Joey might have ended up dead.
Not a thought that settled well with him at all. The world needed more long-legged, spunky blondes.
Joey appeared at the door, ducked beneath the crime scene tape and halted.
“How are you now, Miss Hendricks?” Zane asked.
“I’m fine, just exhausted.”
“Do you want me to post one of the deputies outside your door?” Zane asked.
Joey’s eyes widened. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll lock the room and be fine.”
“By the way, that gun we found in the nightstand—I’m assuming you have a license to carry, and that you know how to use it?” Sloan asked.
“Yes, I do.” Joey’s mouth tightened. “And if I could have gotten to it, that guy wouldn’t have escaped.”
“Where’d you learn to shoot?” Zane asked.
Joey stiffened.
“Never mind,” Zane said with a small smile. “I’m sure Donna taught you.”
“As a matter of fact, she did,” Joey said. “And I’m a damn good shot, too.”