“No thanks. I always reach for tea when I’m upset. I’m still rattled by what happened tonight, so I’ll stick with my usual routine.”
His cell phone buzzed. “My sister,” he said, “checking on you, if I know Molly.” He read the text, then grinned. “She says to tell you she’s fine, which, given the fact that her wedding was ruined, is not entirely the truth. She got your belongings from the hotel and is sending them out tomorrow. She wants you to lie low until everything blows over, and says she’s sorry she got you involved in this.”
Jean frowned. “Molly didn’t know criminals were going to be at her wedding.”
He put his phone away. “It’s pretty typical of Molly to put on a brave face.”
Then he caught it, something he hadn’t noticed right off: Jean was trembling. Ever so slightly. He didn’t think it was because of the chill in the house. Quietly, he went to turn the heat up a couple of notches. He kept it low out of habit; until lately he’d been working a lot and rarely home. When he returned, he gave her his most unassuming, boy-next-door face. “Jean, are you all right?”
She rubbed her arms. “I thought I was. I think I am,” she added, “but all of a sudden, I feel strangely overwhelmed.”
Shock. She’d finally allowed herself to acknowledge the danger everyone had been in today and shock had taken over. It was a perfectly normal, understandable reaction. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get you something stronger than tea?”
“No,” she said, “I think I should just go to bed.”
“Good idea. Down the hall, in the back.” She knew where her room was, but he figured it didn’t hurt to remind her.
She made it as far as the hallway before turning around to look at him. The expression in her eyes killed him. She was afraid, though she didn’t want to admit it.
“I promise you’re safe here,” he stated.
“I know. And I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. You should be taking care of your sister instead.”
“Actually, since I’m technically not on the force anymore, I’m not part of the team assigned to my sister and her fiancé. Anything to do with this case would not be handled by me.”
“Maybe tomorrow we’ll find that everything has been a whopping big mistake.”
He didn’t want to give her false hope—there had been too much gunfire to make him believe that matters would be sewn up nicely in one day—but he also didn’t want her more upset than she already was.
“So is this a pullout sofa?” she asked, looking at the leather furniture in the fireplace room.
“It is.”
“I was just wondering,” she said quickly, “because you said you frequently have guests, and I figured—”
“You don’t want to sleep in the guest room?”
She shook her head. “It feels claustrophobic, for some reason. Not that I’ve ever had a panic attack, but when I think about going down the hall and being alone, I start to feel strange. Like I can’t breathe. Is that a panic attack?”
He pulled out the sofa bed. “Sounds like symptoms of not being real happy that you got shot at when you were expecting to be throwing rose petals at a bride. Also could mean you have a fear of being alone with a man you don’t know very well, in a place with which you’re not familiar.” Grabbing some pillows from a linen closet, he tossed them on the bed, along with some sheets. “This is a very comfortable bed. You’ll be able to relax out here. The stars shine through the drapes, or if you don’t like the light, you can close the—”
“Light sounds wonderful,” she interrupted. “Thank you, Sam. I can make my bed.”
“Okay, then. Anything else I can do to make you comfortable?”
She industriously shook out a sheet and spread it on the mattress. “I hate that I’m taking up your time with my panic attack. Please text Molly back and tell her not to worry about me.” She drew a deep, bracing breath. “I’m fine.”
“The only thing I’m worried about is that you might take the notion to leave.”
She raised her head up as she stopped smoothing down the sheet. “The only way I’m leaving here is in your car.”
He briefly made a note to keep his keys on him at all times, then realized she meant when he took her back to the city. He looked at her, gauging her emotions. “The thought seemed to have crossed your mind at the truck stop.”
“Well, yes, but…where would I go? I don’t even know where I am.”
“You’re in Penn County, Texas, in a town called Penn. Named after Mr. and Mrs. Carl Penn, who settled it with their German family in the 1800s.”
She crossed her arms, unsuccessfully trying to hold in a shiver. “I have faith everything’s going to be straightened out in time to get me home for Christmas.”
“I’ll drive you to the airport and put you on the plane myself,” he promised.
“I’m holding you to that. I need to call my sisters, by the way. My family doesn’t watch a lot of television, but by now they may have heard about the wedding from friends who saw the evening news. I don’t want them to tell Mom.”
He handed her his phone. “Maybe you could just reassure them that you’ve gone away with a friend for a few days until everything blows over a little, to keep them from worrying.”
Jean hesitated, then dialed the phone. He left the room for a minute to give her privacy, knowing how hard this call had to be for her. Ten minutes later, when he couldn’t hear the murmur of her soft voice, he went to check on her.
He had to admit Jean looked pretty crushed, and he hated to see her so low. She was reclining on the bed, her back propped up against the pillows, staring out the big window. “The view is so pretty,” she said, her tone dispirited. “Miles and miles of uninterrupted peace.”
He sat nearby, seeing the same landscape that held her focus. “The house faces north, so from this direction I get a wide view of unoccupied farmland and vast skies. I bought this house just for that reason.”
“What will you do when someone buys that land?”
He shook his head. “I took care of that problem and bought it myself.”
She sighed, then looked at him. “I feel so sorry for Molly.”
He did, too. He felt for Jean, as well, noticing she still seemed unable to relax. He didn’t know what to do to help her. “Would you mind if I pull up an armchair and sit here with you? Until you fall asleep?”
She gave him a grateful glance but disguised it by saying, “Keeping a close eye on me, Ranger?”
It didn’t hurt to play along, act like he hadn’t noticed she was as stiff as a poker. “Gotta do my job.”
“Pull up your chair, then.”
He did. “So what would you be doing right now in New England?”
“Well, at this hour, just breathing in the scents of home,” she said wistfully. “Cinnamon, gingerbread, coffee. I’d be addressing Christmas cards. Wrapping gifts and hiding them in closets so no one will find them before Santa has a chance to put them under the tree. In the morning, my mom and I might go to Macy’s looking for gifts and decorations.”
He leaned back in the chair he’d pulled over to the side of the bed. “Sounds like fun.”
She glanced at him, detecting the sarcasm that had accidentally rolled off his tongue. “You really are a Grinch, aren’t you?”
He winked at her. “You just told me what the girls are doing. Fill me in on the guy activities, and maybe I’ll be less Grinchy.”
“My dad would be watching football on TV. He’d get called upon for various duties, like hanging the star on the tree, wiring the outside lights and unstopping the kitchen drain.”
“That’s a Christmas tradition at your house? Clogging the sink?”
She nodded. “The holidays haven’t begun until Dad’s gotten out the plunger.”
He shook his head. “Go on.”
“We stock the freezer with cookies—”
“You’re supposed to be telling me about the guys’ part in the festivities.”
“Dad helps with the baking,” Jean told him. “He loves eating cookie dough. Cookies fresh from the oven. All the treats my mom puts in front of him. Santa, she always says, needs his strength.”
“Okay.” He leaned back, closed his eyes. “You convinced me I’m missing out. Tomorrow I’ll let you bake me some cookies. I’ll eat the batter.”
She gazed out at the stars, not replying. He thought she seemed less tense, so he opted to let her digest her thoughts. After a while, her eyes closed, then she snapped them open and stared at him in the dimness. “Thank you for everything.”
He shrugged, not about to say it was his duty, because it wasn’t. It was more like a favor to his sister. Besides, he was enjoying Jean’s company.
“You don’t really think…”
“What?” He watched her, waiting.
“You don’t really think I could be in any danger, right? You’re just being overly cautious?”
“It wasn’t me being overly cautious. I’m sure you’ll be questioned, though, so the appropriate law-enforcement officials can try to figure out exactly what happened.”
“You were there, too. You saw as much as I did, maybe more.”
She was trying to get out of staying for an extended period. “They’ll want to be thorough.”
She sat up. “I think I’d know if I heard something, saw something—”
“I understand you’re nervous. And a little scared. It’s a very weird situation you’ve been thrown into.”
“This is my last maid-of-honor gig!” she exclaimed, suddenly defiant, shaking a mental fist at her fears. “Something bizarre always happens. I don’t even want to think about what might happen if I were ever the unfortunate bride!”
He laughed. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better when the sun comes up.” The moon shone in the glittery cold sky. He focused on that, reminding himself that this view brought him peace. It had always been enough for him: the country air, the freedom, the night sky. But the panicked female in his pullout sofa bed wasn’t altogether a bother. She talked just enough—not too much, not too little—and she had grit and a sort of no-nonsense appeal about her. She was feminine, from her soft blond ponytail to her upturned, freckled little nose. “You’re okay company.”
“Well, thank you,” she murmured, her eyes closing. “You’re all right yourself. Which I find a little surprising, considering that Molly warned me that you…” She opened her eyes, stared at him.
“Yes?” he prompted softly.
“Can be a wee bit difficult to get along with.”
He grinned. “I’ll have to rib her for that when I see her.”
“Why’d you quit the force?” she asked suddenly. “If it’s not too personal.”
“Needed a break.”
“Ah. And yet here I am, another job.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’re a guest.”
“Right.” She sighed, sounding more content. “Suddenly, I could fall asleep on a bed of rocks.”
He was glad she was calming down. “Go right ahead. Tell me if you need another blanket or anything.” He settled back.
“Are you going to sleep in that chair?”
“For a while. Then I’ll head to bed. I’ll be just down the hall if you need something.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, “this is silly. Nothing’s going to happen, and I’m being a ninny. Go get in your own bed before you give yourself a backache sitting up in that chair. I think I’ve figured out this much about you—you’ll tell me you’re going to your own bed to lull me to sleep and then you’ll stay in the chair all night.”
“I’m used to snoozing in far worse places.”
“Still.” She waved a hand, indicating he should head toward the hallway. “As you said, I can yell if I get spooked.”
A coyote let out a long howl, the sound curling into the room with intensity. Jean’s eyes went wide. Sam tried not to smile.
“I thought you didn’t have any neighbors close by.”
He shook his head. “That’s not a neighborhood pooch. Coyote.”
“Coyote!” She sat straight up. “He’s much too close to the house!”
“You weren’t planning on taking a walk, were you?” He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “He wants no part of you, anyway, even if you did go outside.”
“Well, I’m not planning to. You don’t have to worry about that!”
She flipped over, her long hair trailing across the pillow. He could see her curves under the sheet and blanket; a lump rose in his throat. It had been a long time since a woman had graced his house. Too long. He missed female companionship. Jean was fun, and handling her circumstances well. As he’d said, he didn’t mind her being here at all. “I always wondered why Molly chose Connor. They seemed to enjoy each other, but I felt it was more of a convenient thing than a real once-in-a-lifetime love affair.”
“I’m not sure a woman always believes that there’s a Mr. Right,” Jean said.
“You’re not suggesting she was just ‘making do’ with Connor because she didn’t feel she’d meet Mr. Right?”
Jean shook her head. “I can’t speak to Molly’s emotions. She may truly love him. Of course, if he’s truly Molly’s Mr. Right, where was he tonight?”
“I have a bad feeling about that I’m not willing to share right now.”
“You’re thinking he might have been kidnapped by the goons who shot up the wedding?”
Sam frowned. “Perhaps he’s behind the whole thing.”
Jean gasped. She opened her mouth to deny his statement, then hesitated. “When we were at the restaurant Friday night for the rehearsal dinner, I went outside to get some fresh air. I saw Tommy Morrissey—the best man—and Connor outside arguing. I walked away, but later when I went back—it was cold outside and I’d had all the fresh air I could stand—I heard Connor talking on his cell phone.” Jean’s words were slow as she thought back to the night before.
“And?”
“He was angry with whomever he was talking to. He said something about—” She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. “‘Find the diamonds, kill the kids, end of story is how I figure.’” She opened her eyes, meeting Sam’s dark gaze. “Those were his exact words.” She sat up, worried all over again. “I should have realized something was wrong. But I was so shocked, Sam. I told myself he was joking, but he seemed mad that I was nearby, as if he didn’t want me to overhear. I smiled and acted like I hadn’t heard a thing, because it was Molly’s wedding and I wanted her to be happy, and even if she was marrying a toad, I would keep my opinions to myself.” Jean’s voice turned slightly panicked. “Only maybe I shouldn’t have.”
Sam got out of his chair, pushed her down into the bed gently, started rubbing her back like he would an upset child. “Jean, Molly does what Molly wants. She’s a big girl.”
“True,” Jean said, “but still—”
“Still nothing. Put it out of your mind for the moment. With any luck, you’ll be on a plane sooner than later.”
“What if the kids Connor was talking about, and this is just really wild and random, what if he meant his own nieces and nephew? Charlie, Lily and Zoe? The little wedding attendants. They were so proud of participating in Molly’s wedding.”
She stared at Sam, her blue eyes wide as her thoughts raced. Sam let her talk, knowing that a good cop knew how to listen at the right times—and sometimes the right time was when a victim was talking. And remembering.
He shrugged. “Keep going.”
She looked completely panicked now. “Maybe those children were put in harm’s way because I didn’t speak up. I just wanted everything to be so beautiful for Molly. But maybe I put Charlie, Lily and Zoe in danger with my silence, because I would never have suspected Connor would harm his own family.”
He shrugged. “Who do you think would have believed you if you’d told them what you heard? How would it have changed anything?�
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She shook her head. “I suppose you’re right…although I’m well aware you’re trying to make me feel better.”
“Not necessarily. I’m a Ranger, not the Good Humor man.” Sam narrowed his eyes. “I have to say I didn’t pay much attention to the children, although I did notice they seemed to like my sister.”
“There’s Zoe, who’s three. She was a flower girl. Lily is five, and she was also a flower girl. Then Charlie, who’s eight. He’s such a great kid—he looked so handsome in his little tux. Their great-aunt, Letitia, arranged to have them in the wedding party.”
Sam nodded. “Because I haven’t been properly branching out the family tree.”
“So anyway—”
“Did Molly say that?”
“She said you were ten years older than she was and showed no sign of wanting to marry and have kids,” Jean admitted.
The words struck an unexpected nerve. Had it bothered him that his little sister was heading down the aisle before he did? Maybe Molly was right. Had he ever really thought about being a dad? He was thirty-eight—maybe he should have considered fatherhood. “So back to the kids,” he said, surrendering ground for the moment.
“This is going to be extremely difficult on them.” Jean chewed on her lips, lips he realized were full and completely kissable. “Molly said they’d been through so much recently. They lost their parents in a tragic car crash…and Letitia thought being ring bearer and flower girls might cheer them up—or at least distract them. Molly was happy to include them, but they must be so shell-shocked from what happened tonight.” She turned sad eyes on Sam that ripped at his gut. “Can you imagine how frightened they must be?”
“Don’t think about it,” he said gruffly, getting onto the bed next to her. He’d been hoping Jean wouldn’t go there—as good a Ranger as he was considered to be, he was a little freaked that his sister could have taken a bullet. Just thinking about it made his gut churn acid; the cramps were slow in leaving him from the adrenaline surge. He wasn’t entirely sure who’d been the target today, but the thought of losing his sister, the only person left on the planet he cared about, was not an option he wanted to consider.
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