Natural-Born Protector / Saved by the Monarch

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Natural-Born Protector / Saved by the Monarch Page 3

by Carla Cassidy


  But Melody had one rule in life. She never dated men who had dated her sister. She now had a new rule to add to the first. She didn’t date men who were potential murder suspects.

  She stared at the list titled Suspects and added the first name. Hank Tyler.

  Hank knocked on Lainie’s door at precisely two o’clock. Melody answered with her purse slung over her shoulder and her car keys in her hand.

  “I thought we could talk over coffee out,” she said and stepped out of the town house. She firmly pulled the door shut behind her.

  “Okay,” he said with a touch of surprise. “Anyplace in particular you want to go?”

  “Is the café still there on Main Street?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it’s still there.” There was only one.

  She nodded. “Then if you don’t mind, we’ll go there.”

  He shrugged. “All right by me. It would probably be best if I take my own car because I need to pick up Maddie from the birthday party in two hours.”

  Hank followed Melody’s rental car to the popular café. While he was driving, he realized the reason she’d wanted to speak with him out in public. She thought he might be Lainie’s killer.

  And why wouldn’t she regard him with suspicion? Somebody Lainie knew, somebody she had either let into her condo or who had used a key to enter, had killed her. Melody knew he had a key and he’d told her he’d been close to Lainie. She’d be a fool not to suspect him.

  Maybe over coffee he could convince her that he had no reason to kill Lainie, that it had been Lainie who had brought laughter back to his life after it had been missing for too long.

  Even though the lunch rush was over, there were few empty tables and booths in the café, which was a popular place for women to share tea and retired men to sip coffee and pass the time.

  As he walked in the door, he spied Melody already seated at a booth in the back. The coral blouse she wore brought out the color in her cheeks and made her eyes appear impossibly blue.

  He headed toward the booth and couldn’t help but remember how she’d felt in his arms the day before, so warm and for just a moment so yielding.

  He mentally shoved the image away as he slid into the seat opposite her. He’d just settled in when the waitress arrived to take their order.

  “Coffee,” Melody said.

  “Make it two, and I’ll take a piece of apple pie,” Hank said to the waitress, then smiled at Melody. “Sure you don’t want a piece of pie or something?”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. I just had lunch a little while ago.”

  The waitress left and she pulled a small notepad and pen from her purse and set them on the table before her. He eyed them curiously. “I feel like I’m about to be deposed by a lawyer.”

  A tinge of red danced into her cheeks. “For the last couple of days I’ve been so frazzled, I think it’s important I take notes so I won’t forget anything you say.”

  “I’m not sure what it is you want from me,” he replied.

  The waitress arrived at their table and served their coffee and his pie. When the waitress left, Melody wrapped her fingers around her cup as if seeking warmth to chase away some inner chill.

  “Lainie and I had kind of an unspoken agreement. Even though she told me when she was going out with somebody, she didn’t give me all the details. She knew I disapproved of her dating habits.” Melody laughed suddenly, a short but musical burst she instantly stifled. “I sound like a prude and I’m not, but I knew Lainie was promiscuous.” She said the last word with a wince, as if it hurt coming out of her mouth.

  Hank knew he had two choices. He could either protest her assessment of her sister or he could be completely truthful. He opted for truth. “Lainie was obviously looking for something she couldn’t find.”

  “Lainie was mentally ill.” Again there was a wealth of pain lacing her words. “She was never officially diagnosed with anything, refused to see a doctor. But I truly believe she was bipolar or something like that.”

  “We talked about that,” he said. She looked at him in surprise. “Lainie knew she was out of sync with the world, but she was afraid of taking medication, of somehow losing herself to drugs in an effort to be normal.”

  Melody stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes thoughtful. “You must have been very close to her.”

  “I didn’t kill her, Melody.” He leaned forward slightly, wanting to take away any doubt that might linger in her head. “I had no reason to kill your sister. You saw how my daughter loved Lainie. Aside from the fact that I’m not capable of beating a woman to death, I’d never hurt my daughter by harming somebody she loved. She’s had enough loss in her life. I cared about Lainie. She was like a little sister to me.”

  There was no way to explain to her that when he’d arrived in Cotter Creek he’d still been deep in a grieving process that had lasted for far too long. It had been Lainie’s irrepressible sense of humor and warmth that had chipped away at the emotional shell he’d built around himself.

  Instead of taking away the faint frown that stretched across her forehead, his words deepened it. “You weren’t her lover?”

  “Never.” He leaned back against the booth. “Lainie had plenty of lovers. What she needed was a good friend, and that’s what I tried to be to her.” And that’s what he’d needed in his life as well.

  She picked up her coffee and took a sip, her gaze not wavering from his. He felt as if he were on trial and the jury was still out.

  She placed her cup back on the table, then picked up her pen. “Do you know the names of some of the men Lainie had been seeing just before that night?”

  That night. It was as if she found it impossible to say the word killed or murdered. “I know she was off and on with a man named Dean Lucas. He’s a mechanic. Works at Hall’s Car Haven.” He watched as she wrote the information down on her pad. Her long dark hair fell forward, looking shiny and soft, and he was surprised by his impulse to reach out and touch it.

  Throughout his relationship with Lainie, he’d learned a lot about Melody Thompson. He knew she had just turned twenty-six, that she’d been the one person Lainie had depended on and that, according to Lainie, Melody had never had a serious romantic relationship.

  He found the last hard to believe. She was gorgeous, and bright, with an underlying sensuality that was more than a little appealing. Not that he was interested. When he’d buried his wife, he’d made a vow that there would be no other woman in his life on a permanent basis…ever.

  “Who else?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “She had problems with a guy named James O’Donnell a couple of months ago. I don’t think they were dating, but she thought he was obsessed with her. I think Lainie called the cops on him because she thought he was stalking her.”

  She wrote down that information as well, then took another sip of her coffee. “You’d better eat your pie before it gets cold.”

  He picked up his fork and cut into the pie, but the last thing on his mind was food. “Why do you want that information? I’ve already told the sheriff everything I know.”

  “Sheriff Ramsey is an idiot who couldn’t find a criminal if one came up and introduced himself,” she exclaimed, her voice rich with derision.

  “Ramsey isn’t the sheriff anymore,” Hank replied. “Zack West is sheriff now.”

  She raised one of her dark, perfectly arched brows. “Really? I didn’t know. I haven’t talked to anyone but family members since I’ve been back in town.”

  For a moment they were silent. He ate his pie and she stared down at the short list of names he’d given her.

  Lainie had been incredibly easy to read. She’d worn her emotions on her face where everyone could see them. Melody gave away little of what she was thinking or feeling. It was an easy guess that she was a far more complicated woman than her sister had been.

  “Your daughter is a little charmer,” she said, finally breaking the silence that had grown between them.


  “She’s far too smart and too outspoken for her own good. Which reminds me…” He dug into his pocket and pulled out two keys. “Here are the keys that Lainie gave us to her apartment.” He placed them on the table between them. “I don’t know who else she might have given a key to, so it might be a good idea to change the locks.”

  She nodded. “I’ll have somebody come out first thing in the morning. Is there anything else you can tell me about what was going on with Lainie around the time of her death? Anything unusual?”

  He hesitated a long moment, unsure about revealing the confidences of a woman now dead. “What?” she asked as she leaned forward.

  “Did you know she wanted a baby? That she was trying to get pregnant?” He could tell by the shocked look on her face that Lainie hadn’t shared that with her.

  A spasm of grief twisted her features and he bit his tongue, sorry that he’d told her. “That’s the last thing she needed. She couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone a baby,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you,” he said, fighting the impulse to reach out and take her hand, offer some sort of physical support. She looked so sad, so lost.

  “No, I want you to tell me everything. If I’m going to find the person who killed her then I need to know everything.”

  He stared at her in surprise. “Don’t you think it would be best to leave the investigation to the sheriff and his men?”

  She leaned back, looking stronger than she had moments before. “I’ll let the sheriff run his investigation but I intend to run my own. If I know my sister, she liked to run with people who had at least as many problems as she did, people with attitudes and criminal records, not the kind of people who will likely cooperate with anyone in law enforcement. They’ll talk to me.”

  Hank thought about the blood he’d cleaned up. So much blood. Whoever had killed Lainie had been enraged. The violence that had taken place in that bathroom sickened him.

  He wanted to talk Melody out of whatever it was she intended to do, but he could tell by the fervent glow in her eyes that she was determined.

  “That could be dangerous. Do you have a plan?” he asked.

  “The first place I’m going to start asking questions is at the Edge,” she replied. “Maybe Lainie’s boss or one of her coworkers will know something.”

  Hank scowled. “That bar is no place for a woman to go by herself. Why don’t I tag along with you?”

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” she replied.

  “You didn’t ask. I offered.”

  Once again she stared at him for a long moment. He’d thought her eyes were a clear, sharp blue like Lainie’s, but he realized now they were deeper, darker and far more enigmatic than her sister’s.

  “I was planning on going tonight,” she finally said.

  He nodded. “Maddie can stay at my mother’s.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked. Some of the fervor left her eyes and she suddenly looked small and vulnerable.

  “You know any of the West family?” he asked.

  “I know them on sight and by reputation. I know they work in the bodyguard business. Why?”

  “Dalton West is an old friend of mine. One of the reasons I decided to make the move from Texas to Cotter Creek was so I could go to work for them. At the moment I’m waiting to be assigned to my first job with them.”

  Maybe four months of boredom was getting to him, or maybe he was jumping into her drama because he had genuinely grown to care for Lainie. “Maybe we could help each other,” he continued. “It sounds to me like you intend to talk to people and go places that might put a single, attractive woman at risk. You could use a bodyguard, and I could use some practice at being a bodyguard.”

  “So, you want to be my bodyguard in training?” A small smile curved her lips.

  He returned her smile. “Something like that.”

  Once again she wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and eyed him soberly. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

  He nodded and told himself it really didn’t matter to him whether she took his offer of help or not. Eventually the killer would be caught and Melody Thompson would return to her life in Chicago.

  And he’d keep putting one foot in front of the other and try to figure out how to keep going when the only woman he’d ever loved was gone.

  Chapter Three

  Melody stared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She scarcely recognized the woman who looked back at her. Tight jeans molded to her and the bright turquoise blouse fit her like a second skin, the plunging neckline revealing far more flesh than she was used to showing.

  If she was going to hang out at the Edge, then it was important for her to blend in with the clientele that frequented the bar on the edge of town. Her conservative clothes would set her apart, draw attention that she didn’t want, so she’d raided Lainie’s closet for something appropriate.

  Her hand trembled slightly as she raised it to smooth an errant strand of hair away from her face. She knew that she might be asking questions tonight that could make somebody nervous.

  She turned away from the mirror and checked her wristwatch. Almost nine. Hank would be here soon to accompany her to the bar.

  She wasn’t sure why she trusted Hank Tyler, but she did. There was something solid about him. She liked his direct gaze and the straight answers he’d given her over coffee. Besides, he was working for the West family. That went a long way in alleviating any fear she might have that he was a nut.

  After she’d left the café and Hank that afternoon, she’d gone straight to the sheriff’s office and met with Zack West. He’d assured her that they were doing everything in their power to find Lainie’s killer.

  “But I’ll be straight with you, Melody. We don’t have any real leads and your sister didn’t have a conventional lifestyle.”

  “The night of the murder she left a message on my answering machine and told me she was going out with somebody new. I don’t suppose you’ve identified who that might have been?” she’d asked.

  Zack shook his head, his green eyes sympathetic. “Not yet. But I’ve told your mother and I’m telling you, I won’t rest until we have the killer behind bars.”

  She’d left the office satisfied that Zack and his men were doing everything they could to solve the crime, but unsure just how successful they would be.

  As irrational as it was, she felt as if she were the only one who could find the answers. She was the one who had known Lainie better than anyone and she owed it to her sister to help her rest in peace. The only way that would happen was if Lainie’s murderer was found and punished.

  The soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she hurried to answer. Hank had underdressed for the night as well. Clad in tight worn jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, he looked both slightly dangerous and capable of handling anything that might come his way.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as she grabbed her purse from the sofa.

  “Are you sure you want to?” she countered.

  He flashed her a small smile. “I’m in if you are.”

  “Then let’s go.” She locked the door behind her and together they left the building and walked out into the warm night air.

  “We’ll take my car,” he said as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “If we run into any problems I know mine has the horsepower we need to make a fast getaway.” He gestured toward a bright red sports car, a larger model that seated four.

  “Definitely better horsepower than my rental,” she agreed. “Are you expecting trouble?”

  He shrugged. “I like to be a good Boy Scout and be prepared for anything.” He opened the passenger door and she slid inside, then watched as he went around the front of the car to the driver’s side.

  She drew a tremulous sigh. Hank Tyler had been attractive in his dress slacks and shirt, but he looked like pure sin in those jea
ns and T-shirt. His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead and only added to his lethal look.

  “You don’t need that kind of distraction,” she muttered to herself as he slid in behind the steering wheel.

  Fastening her seat belt, she tried to ignore the scent of him, a pleasant fragrance that reminded her of sunshine and sandalwood. “You must have moved into the town houses right around the time Lainie did,” she said, determined to keep her focus on the matter at hand.

  He started the engine with a roar and pulled out onto the street. “She moved in a couple of weeks before me and Maddie. The first night we were there she brought over a little basket of soaps she’d collected from hotel rooms over the years.” He smiled. “She said she didn’t have any fruit and refused to bake a cake, but wanted to welcome us and bring us something. Maddie still uses the soaps. She says they’re just her size.”

  A new edge of grief crawled up in the back of Melody’s throat as she thought of her sister. “Lainie loved hotel soap and shampoo. When any of us stayed at a hotel, we always grabbed the freebies for her.”

  They cruised slowly down Main Street and Melody looked at him curiously. “Where were you before coming here? You mentioned something about Texas?”

  “Just south of Dallas. My grandfather was an Oklahoma oil man, and when he passed away he left me an embarrassingly large inheritance. I used it to buy a ranch. I raised cattle and horses.”

  “What made you decide to leave it all and come back to Cotter Creek?”

  In the illumination from the dashboard she saw his hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. “My wife died.” The words fell flat, with no other information offered.

  It was obviously a topic he didn’t want to discuss. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  They were silent for several minutes. So, he wasn’t a stranger to grief, she thought. She realized that’s what he’d meant earlier when he’d told her that his daughter had suffered enough loss in her life.

 

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