by Angi Morgan
The picture he’d burned into his memory could be a match. Was a match as far as he was concerned. He was certain. But short of walking up to her and asking if she had a bullet-wound scar on her abdomen and two others under her arm, there was no proof.
He needed proof or her admission since he didn’t want to ask her outright. He couldn’t ask the time of day or to borrow a cup of sugar. Her house was secure and locked up tighter than the local bank.
“When I’m not fixing something on this rental—which was a part of the deal you hatched up—I’m spending my spare time running more searches. You can’t guilt-trip me into working harder. I haven’t had a day off in weeks.”
“I know, man. We just don’t have time to waste.”
There was a lot more to this case than just finding a potential witness. The Tenoreno family had already tried to kill law officers to make the case fall apart. As far as they knew, the crime family was still searching for the primary witness under Company F protection.
“Then let me get back outside and come up with a way to introduce myself.” He disconnected before his partner could try to give him more advice. His head was swimming with all the suggestions from the Rangers in his company.
He left his service weapon in the lockbox he’d brought with him last week. Short trips back to Waco down Texas 6 had yielded more than a couple of suitcases of his stuff. The house was furnished, but he’d brought items to make it livable. Including his television and game station.
Livable? More like bachelorized.
The July heat pounded on his shoulders as he finished the outside chores. Not a bright idea for skin that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. He’d listened to advice from another Texas Ranger about how to get a woman’s attention, and today he was desperate.
Bryce was finally on an assignment that didn’t include a computer. For the most part anyway. He was undercover. On his own and getting sunburned.
It had been a while since his back had seen the sun and done yardwork. Too long apparently. He’d just finished the lawn—the burning-dried-up-grass-with-no-trees-in-the-yard lawn. Patches of it were more dirt than the combo of overgrown weeds that he’d just plowed through.
If he didn’t get closer to his target this weekend, his undercover time was done. Nothing he did and nowhere he’d been seemed to catch Kylie Scott’s eye. Twice he’d been thrown next to her by town matchmakers. Twice they’d had polite conversation. Twice he’d been certain he’d broken through her protective shell. And twice he’d been wrong.
Holding his straw hat away from him, he turned the water hose on himself with the other. Spitting-hot water hit his skin but quickly soothed the burn. Probably wasn’t good against sun protection, but he was just dang hot and wanted to cool down fast.
He also needed a minute to watch the house across the street and two doors down. She had been taking care of lawn maintenance on a Saturday morning, too. Conservatively dressed in shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, Kylie Scott wasn’t flashy. No bikini tops to work on her tan.
Pecan Street was empty now and Kylie’s garage door was shut. He should put the yard tools away and return to the half-assed air-conditioning. He’d missed when she’d finished up and moved inside.
“Some undercover cop you turned out to be.” He’d talked more to himself in the past week than he’d ever admit. The red shoulders were just going to get worse. He might as well head to the store and grab some ointment. Or maybe he could ask to borrow some from Kylie.
Taking a drink from the hose, he contemplated that until there was a puddle of mud next to him. How could he meet her?
Former teen supermodel Sissy Jorgenson, the ex-wife of a short-lived marriage to Xander Tenoreno was hiding and doing a damn good job of it. Her ex was the state’s real target. It would help their case if they had more evidence against the Texas crime family and Company F had been assigned to obtain it.
Bottom line, Xander was also looking for his ex-bride. The rumor circulating was that she had evidence against him that had kept her alive. True or false, Bryce didn’t know. His goal was to find Sissy/Kylie and convince her to hand over her evidence against the Tenorenos.
Head of the family, Paul Tenoreno, was behind bars without bail facing trial in September. The final blow would be to add his son Xander as a cellmate. Bryce soaked his head, then shook his hair from side to side. Water sprayed like his brother’s dog shaking after swimming in their pool.
“As good as that feels, you might not want to greet your neighbors that way.”
He recognized Kylie’s voice, spun around. She screamed a little and hopped backward. He’d soaked her shirt with the water hose.
“Dammit, that was careless of me. Sorry.” Bryce wiped his eyes free of droplets still clinging to his skin.
“Wow, that was a bit of a shock.” She fanned her shirt front, but didn’t run home.
“I, uh...didn’t hear you come up.”
“I hope so, because if you wanted to have a wet T-shirt contest... Well, you’d need a shirt.” She nodded toward him, wringing the edge of her shirt onto her multicolored toenails.
Wait. What? Was she flirting with him?
Without his glasses and with water dripping into his eyes, he could barely see her facial expression, just her bright smile. True wheat-blond hair was pulled into a ponytail and stuck through the back of a ball cap. She was the right height of about five feet eleven. She wasn’t rail-thin, but slender enough to be a teenage model who had left the business.
“Come to think about it, we probably do have some guys on this street who wouldn’t mind serving as the judges. You’d win of course.”
“Huh? Oh. Right.” He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You’re making a bigger puddle.” She pointed to his feet.
Bryce jumped toward the faucet and turned off the water, cursing under his breath at his ineptness. He slowly stood, ready to see where this strange encounter would lead.
“Bryce? I don’t mean to impose, but I need your help. That is, if you could spare a few minutes.”
“I don’t have any plans.”
She relaxed and let out a long sigh. “Oh good. It shouldn’t take long. I noticed that you have an extension ladder and wondered if you could get my pole saw out of the tree in my backyard.”
“Sure.” Flirting? Wishful thinking was more like it.
He retrieved the ladder from the garage and headed down the middle of the small town street.
“Need help?”
“Not at all, I got this.”
She was already walking next to him as if she’d known how he would answer. The ladder was more awkward than heavy. Sort of like their conversation. He had an opportunity now and couldn’t think of anything he might ask that wouldn’t sound suspicious.
Last thing he needed was for her to take off and disappear. He’d never hear the end of that at the office.
“I’ve noticed that you don’t talk much.”
“Not really. If I’m honest, I haven’t gotten much practice lately.” He rested the ladder on the inside of her fence as she worked the combination lock on the gate. If she wasn’t the former Sissy Tenoreno, something had happened to Kylie Scott to make her overcautious.
“Are we being honest?” She smiled shyly, focusing on removing the lock.
The temperature should have dropped when they walked under the oak shade tree. But he could swear it rose several degrees when she stole a look before she pushed up her sunglasses.
In the past couple of weeks, he’d never seen her eyes up close. Even without his glasses, her long eyelashes, tinted a rich dark brown, hadn’t hidden the quick peek she’d taken of his chest.
Instead of the bright blue eyes from her modeling days, they were a deep dark brown—almost black—when she didn’t hide behind mirrored shades. Definitely not the color of Sissy’s, but the shape...
No doubt remained.
Kylie Scott was the woman he’d been searching for.
*
* *
KYLIE OPENED THE gate and Bryce grabbed the ladder on the other side. She dropped the lock back through the slots, then removed it before he noticed—hopefully. It was silly to be so paranoid.
But paranoia had taught her to be hypervigilant with her safety. She wasn’t used to leaving the locks out of place.
Even when no one appeared to be on the street. Even when she had a very capable-looking man standing next to her, it went against her habits to leave the gate unlocked. But she managed it by sticking the padlock inside her pocket.
“I was trimming a dead limb and the saw got stuck.”
“Lucky I was around.”
“I have some iced tea. Can I get you some?”
“That would be great.”
“Okay.” She rubbed her palms together and stepped to the porch. She tried to turn her back on Bryce and walk like a normal person through her kitchen door.
It didn’t happen. She hesitated, waiting for him to lean the ladder on the tree. He just watched her act like an unsteady idiot. Bryce was practically a stranger. She’d only met him a couple of times in town.
“I hope you like it sweetened. That’s all I have.”
“Sure. I’ll get this down.”
“Thanks so much. It’s stuck up there pretty good.” Oh my gosh. She was babbling, trying to wait him out. If he’d just look away, she could dart into the kitchen.
Kylie had never been a normal teenage girl, but she was certain this was how they acted. Flushed, embarrassed, unsure of themselves—everything that she was experiencing for the first time. She’d been a full-time employee by the time she’d reached puberty. The boys she’d known back then had never been mature enough for her tastes.
Needless to say, the men who accepted her as an adult at that age hadn’t been good for her. Well, spilled milk and all that...whatever the saying was. She’d moved past it. She was in a good place and didn’t have to think about that any longer.
Throwing her shoulders back, she turned, leaving herself vulnerable to a nonexistent attack. She slid the glass door open and marched to the refrigerator for the pitcher. Two glasses sat on a pretty little tray she’d picked up at the antique shop this week. She added a freshly sliced lemon to a matching bowl and poured the tea.
Five years. She’d survived five years. Her life was changing and it was time to keep her promise to herself. If she could survive this long without being discovered, it was time to start living again.
Taking a second, she watched Bryce tug on the pole trying to free the tiny saw. He arranged the ladder soundly in place, shook it a little to see if it was steady, then climbed.
It had been a very long time since she’d allowed herself friends. Then again, being Bryce’s friend wasn’t too high on her agenda. She’d watched him out in the yard fixing up Mrs. Mackey’s rental. He’d stopped by the pie shop while she’d been at lunch.
It might be a coincidence, but Hico was a very small town. If there was a visitor here for a couple of hours, a resident was likely to encounter them a couple of times. So running into a neighbor at the store and pie shop was almost predictable.
She hadn’t been the only woman catching a second or third glimpse of his straight nose and dimpled chin. A constant five o’clock shadow had never done anything for her before getting a look at Bryce. She was full-blown giddily attracted to every muscle his tight T-shirts exploited.
The view as he climbed the ladder wasn’t helping to cool her heat.
Mrs. Mackey had praised Bryce’s ability as a handyman and suggested his skills not be wasted while he was living on their street. At face value her statement had been so innocent. Then the other ladies who had conveniently stopped by the museum had all giggled.
“If they could see you right now, they’d probably faint or have heart attacks. They definitely would if they knew what my plans for him are.” She took the dish towel and fanned her flaming cheeks. Dipping her head, she closed her eyes, embarrassed by her desires. “What are you thinking, Kylie? Yes, it’s been a while. But you can’t just ask him to bed. You deserve more than that.”
With her mind made up to slow her racing thoughts, she met her helpful neighbor at the bottom of the ladder. He stepped onto the grass, tree trimmer in hand, following her to two chairs and a small patio table—her fourth anniversary present to herself.
No matter what she kept telling her mind to do, she couldn’t avoid the manly chest turning a feminine shade of pink. He took a sip of tea, then gulped it down.
“That’s really good. Just hit the spot.”
“Thanks again for the help, Bryce. If you hadn’t been home, I’d be watching that pole saw rust.”
“I doubt that, but anytime.” He tipped his straw hat in her direction.
“That’s interesting.”
“What?”
“The hat-tipping thing. No one under the age of sixty has ever tipped their hat to me before. In fact, I’d never seen it until I moved to Hico. People wave when they pass in their cars. They acknowledge me on the sidewalk. They even open the museum door, wave and go on their way.”
“I’d say they’re just being friendly.” He finished off his tea and set the glass down.
“It’s the reason I stayed here. I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m glad I did.”
“That’s right. You work in the Billy the Kid Museum.” He took another long gulp of his tea. “I used to make my brother pretend he was Billy the Kid when we were practicing quick draw.”
That’s what she wanted...to be so relaxed and easy going. She sipped. It had been five years. Maybe it was possible? “And who would you pretend to be?”
“The sheriff.”
“Why not the outlaw? I thought kids wanted to be the cool gunslinger who shot things up?” She noticed he actually looked a little embarrassed. “Did you play cops and robbers, too?”
“I think I got in trouble one too many times for shooting birds with my BB gun. Too many lectures on how I should be a better example. Besides, the good guys always win.”
“I’ve heard that.”
Before she could think again if she was the good or the bad, she heard his cell vibrate.
He jumped to his feet and reached into his back pocket. “Excuse me a second, I have to take this.”
Kylie tried not to listen. Maybe it was a habit mixed with genuine curiosity, but she felt uncomfortable and moved out of earshot to the tree. It wasn’t difficult to discern the phone call was upsetting to Bryce. His side of the conversation was a lot of one-word responses. His body language became very stiff and formal. She sipped her tea, looking at the dead limb that still needed to be trimmed back to the trunk.
When he returned, Bryce dropped his hands to his knees, bending at the waist to lean forward.
Kylie set her glass down, approaching cautiously. No matter how much she wanted to know this man, she didn’t. That was a fact that she couldn’t push aside. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything, I’m afraid. Someone couldn’t do their job correctly and my timetable’s been advanced.” He straightened.
The sadness and concern didn’t belong on his handsome features. The urge to wipe them aside was too strong to ignore. She recognized it and held it in a secret place where she kept most of her emotions.
“I’m sorry, Bryce. I hope things work out for the best.”
“I hope so, too. There’s something you should know, Kylie.” Bryce rested his hands on his hips. “If I can find you...so can Xander Tenoreno.”
Chapter Two
Kylie could feel the blood drain from her face as fast as it had in her knees. Barely able to stand, she sort of rocked before catching herself on the tree trunk. Her ex-husband’s name hadn’t been said in front of her for almost four years. She wanted to run. Hide.
Bryce watched her reaction. He saw it all. She knew what the fright looked like and she hadn’t hidden it. The look on his face confirmed for her that he knew he’d found the right person. She couldn’t deny it. Well, sh
e could, but it wouldn’t do her any good. He wouldn’t believe her.
“Are you a cop?”
He shook his head, squinted, then rubbed the back of his neck as if he was mad for being right. An odd reaction from someone who had completely wrecked her life.
She looked at the serving tray and the ceramic outdoor table it sat on. Neither would cross over to her new life. Whatever that ended up being. Just the things that fit inside two suitcases. Nothing more. Not even the laptop. She couldn’t borrow a car. He’d just follow.
Everything stayed here.
The escape plan was in place. The cash was in a box under the bathroom sink along with a passible ID. All she had to do was fake whatever Mr. Unbelievable standing in front of her wanted.
“If you worked for Xander, I’d already be dead. So who are you?” All the excitement of finally having the courage to face Bryce sort of evaporated along with any moisture in the heated air.
“Bryce Johnson. I’m a Texas Ranger here to help you.”
“Help me right out of my comfortable home and life you mean.” She picked up the tea glasses, along with the tray. Another wave of sadness crashed into her heart at the thought of leaving. “It was that silly picture for the online article, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “And your eyes. You changed the color but not the vitality that’s there.”
“Strange words from a man who probably just got me killed.” She walked across the porch, the lock heavy in her pocket. The urge to run to the fence and secure the gate made her stop before opening the door. Bryce was following and paused on the steps.
“We can help you, if you allow us to.”
“I told the police, and anyone else who would listen, everything that happened that night.” The nightmare images forced her to stare at a pure drop of water sliding down the empty glass. If she shut her eyes or even blinked, she’d be transported back to the white gravel stained with blood.
“Kylie.”
Startled by the shock of his touch, she dropped the tray. One glass shattered and one rolled across the wooden porch. “Isn’t that weird? Ever wonder why sometimes they break and sometimes they don’t?”