“There’s more,” Clayton said a moment later. “Wyatt’s working on your, well, paternity, but one of the first things that popped up was that Beatrice took a trip to Germany.” He paused. “Declan, it was right around the time your family was killed.”
“Hell.” Declan added even more profanity and would have stormed back outside if Eden hadn’t stepped in front of him.
“Any evidence that Beatrice hired someone to kill them?” Eden asked.
“None. In fact, Jack has her on a fairly tight personal budget because she tends to go through money like water. We’re following the money trail she left when she was there, but her visit might have had nothing to do with the murders.”
“Then why was she there, damn it?” Declan snapped.
“That’s something I’ll find out. And note that I said I and not us. That’s because I’ve got to distance you from this. I don’t want anything incriminating that we might find tossed out because the D.A. thinks we manufactured evidence.”
The muscles in Declan’s jaw stirred, and for a moment she thought he still might refuse, that he might head to the marshals’ building anyway. However, he didn’t reach to disarm the security system or open the door.
“Find something we can use,” he told Clayton. “I’ll see what I can come up with without using official resources.”
Declan hung up and started out of the room, probably to work on something he wasn’t ready to do. “I’ll pour you a drink,” Eden offered.
The kitchen was huge, with over a dozen cabinets, and she waited a moment, hoping that he’d point her in the right direction for that drink. But he didn’t. Declan just stared at her.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said. “But you’re a better fix than a drink.”
And that was the only warning he gave her before he snapped her to him and kissed her again. Not a gentle one this time. This was all heat and nerves. Mostly nerves. But like his other kisses, it was still strong stuff. The man knew how to light every fire in her body with just his mouth.
He deepened the kiss. His grip on her got tighter. The emotion upped a notch, something she hadn’t thought possible. So did the need that his kiss was building inside her.
But then he stopped, looked down at her. “I’m sorry for this, too.”
She shook her head, not understanding, but he came right back to her for a kiss of a different kind. No nerves.
Just the heat.
Oh, she got it then. He was sorry that this was turning into something that neither of them seemed to be emotionally ready for. Or able to stop.
Eden certainly couldn’t.
She kissed him right back, and when he turned, pressing her against the counter, she pulled him right along with her. Until his body was pressed against hers. Until every inch of them was touching.
“You should say no,” he reminded her, her mouth still against her.
“You should, too,” she repeated to him.
But he kissed her again, and all reminders went right out the window.
“Whatever sympathy or pity you’re feeling for me, it shouldn’t play into this,” he snarled.
Even though she had to break the kiss to do it, she looked him straight in the eye. “What I feel for you doesn’t have anything to do with sympathy.” She slid her hand over the front of his jeans, felt him hard and ready. “And apparently it doesn’t for you, either.”
He cursed again and looked as if he was in the middle of a serious mental debate. “I knew you were trouble when I first saw you. Too bad I really like this kind of trouble.”
Well, good. Because it was all she could offer him now. Trouble and scalding-hot kisses. A bad combination, but it beat feeling the pressure from the danger and the investigation. Heck, this beat anything and everything she’d experienced.
His hand left her waist and slid beneath her shirt. He lit some little fires along the way as his fingers trailed up from her stomach to her breasts. His touch was like his kiss. Magic. And Eden knew this was going to lead them straight to the bed—or the floor—if she didn’t stop it.
But she didn’t want to stop.
And while Declan touched her and gave her another of those scalding kisses, she considered just how good this would be.
Bad, of course, too.
Because they didn’t have time for sex and the aftermath it would create, and there would be an aftermath. It would only deepen her feelings for a man who could ultimately destroy her father.
Or vice versa.
Besides, Declan would regret this. Maybe not today but eventually. And it was that reminder that gave her just enough strength to step back.
He let her slip from his arms, her top dropping back into place. But her breathing didn’t level, and the burning need inside her didn’t go away, either. Eden just stood there, waiting to see how long this puny dose of strength was going to last.
Probably not very long.
She wanted him more than all the rational reasons she could come up with for keeping out of his arms.
Declan’s phone buzzed again, the soft sound shooting through the room. “Wyatt,” he said, glancing at the screen. He looked at Eden as if debating if he should answer it and knowing he had no choice but to talk to his brother.
“No need to check up on me,” Declan greeted him and put the call on speaker.
“Glad to hear it, ’cause I had plans to do that, but we got a problem. I’m leaving now to deal with a hostage situation over in Eagle Pass. But I just got a call from the deputy we have guarding Kirby’s room.”
“What happened?” Declan snapped.
Eden held her breath. Prayed. This had already been a hellish day without adding more.
“Leonard Kane just showed up and demanded to see Kirby,” Wyatt explained. “And before Stella could call me to tell me what was going on, Kirby let Leonard into his room so they could talk. Little brother, you need to get over there fast.”
Chapter Fourteen
Declan flew into the hospital parking lot, and as soon as he brought his truck to a stop, he barreled out. He did wait though for Eden to exit and hurry to his side. And he also glanced around to make sure this wasn’t all some kind of setup for another attack.
Everything looked normal.
But it wouldn’t stay that way. Not with Leonard and Kirby in the same room.
“If he hurts Kirby, Leonard’s a dead man,” Declan said under his breath.
Yeah, he was riled to the core that Kirby hadn’t told him about being his father, but he owed Kirby a lot. His life, in fact, and there was no way he was going to let Leonard ride roughshod over a man too weak to fight back.
“The deputy wouldn’t let Leonard do anything stupid,” Eden reminded him.
It was a good reminder. The deputy was there. But Leonard was a man hell-bent on revenge because Kirby had shot and killed his son all those years ago. If Leonard had murder on his mind, he probably wouldn’t let a deputy stop him.
Or Stella.
In fact, Leonard could kill all of them.
Declan hurried toward the side exit, and as on their previous visit, he maneuvered Eden through the halls to Kirby’s room. The first sign of trouble he saw was the deputy standing outside Kirby’s closed door. The deputy had his gun drawn, but he wasn’t inside where he needed to be to protect Kirby and Stella.
“Why aren’t you in there?” Declan shouted.
“Kirby’s orders. He said he and his visitor needed to have a private discussion. Leonard agreed. He had his men go to the cafeteria to wait. Kirby sent Stella to Doc Landry’s office and told her to stay there with the door locked. The hospital security guard’s with her.”
And that meant no one was with Kirby, protecting him.
Declan didn’t even bother to hold back the pro
fanity, but he did push Eden behind him and draw his gun. The deputy stepped aside so that Declan could throw open the door to Kirby’s room.
He braced himself to see a fight, but Kirby was in his bed, sitting up and looking stronger than he had in weeks. Leonard was standing next to him and had no weapon. At least not a visible one.
“Get away from him,” Declan insisted.
Leonard smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I’m here at Kirby’s invitation.”
Kirby nodded. “He is. I wanted to talk to him, to try to settle this old score between us.”
“But it’s a score that can’t be settled,” Leonard argued.
“You shouldn’t be talking to this snake,” Declan insisted. He tried to stay in front of Eden, but she stepped out and went closer to Kirby.
“Maybe this meeting can wait until you’re stronger,” Eden suggested softly to Kirby.
Kirby reached out, took her hand in his. “That’s a kindness I don’t deserve from you. Or you,” he added, his gaze going to Declan. “Saying I’m sorry won’t help, but I’m saying it anyway.”
Declan glanced at Leonard to see if he knew anything about what this conversation meant. Judging from the smug look he got, he did.
“Yeah, I know he’s your daddy,” Leonard confirmed. “Some things started popping up a few weeks ago.”
“Someone tried to run your DNA,” Kirby explained. “I put a stop to it, but not before Leonard got his hands on it.”
“Who ran his DNA?” Eden asked.
Declan wanted to know the same damn thing, but Kirby only shook his head. “I figured it was Leonard here, but he says no.”
Leonard held up his hands, palms out. “Wasn’t me. But Kirby thought that maybe it was the first step to me getting payment for what happened to my boy, Corey.”
Kirby made a weary sigh, and he let go of Eden’s hand. “I had no choice but to shoot Corey. Somewhere, deep down in your ice-cold heart, you know that. And you also know that trying to settle this score with Declan is just plain wrong. He had no part in Corey’s death. No choice in fathers, either.”
It was true. And ironic. Declan used to wish that Kirby was his real father. Now it was true, and he just couldn’t get past the lies he’d been fed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Declan came out and asked.
“I didn’t know at first, not until Stella spilled everything after you’d arrived at Rocky Creek. Then, when I found out that someone might want you dead because of me, I couldn’t risk telling you.”
“You could have sent me away,” Declan pointed out.
“Could have.” Kirby paused after that agreement. “But I didn’t figure that’d be any safer than having you in my sights. Of course, it meant you having to deal with that SOB, Jonah Webb.”
Yeah, that’d been no picnic. Declan had gotten beatings from Webb, but now, looking back on it, he would have gotten a heck of a lot more if it hadn’t been for Stella, and even Kirby, intervening.
“After I realized what Webb was doing and that I couldn’t stop him, I tried just about everything I could to get you out of Rocky Creek,” Kirby went on, “but I couldn’t do it out in the open. Couldn’t let anyone make the connection that you were my son.”
And maybe that was why Kirby had fostered not just him but the boys who’d become his brothers. But Declan had to amend that. Whatever Kirby’s reasons were for getting them out, there’d been no shortage of love and fatherly guidance before and after he’d taken them into foster care.
Kirby drew in a long breath, and he kept his gaze locked with Declan’s. “But now the danger’s back. Everything that Stella and I did to protect you wasn’t enough. That’s why I asked Leonard to come. If he feels the need for revenge, I want him to take it out on me. Not you.”
“No.” Declan charged forward, shoving Leonard aside. “You’re not killing him.”
Leonard stayed put and turned his glare on Declan. “Don’t get your jeans in a twist. Killing Kirby is the last thing I want. It’ll end his suffering too soon. It’ll end this.” He motioned first to Declan, then Kirby. “And as far as I can tell, I want this. Because it’s clear that you and Kirby are at odds over his daddy lie.”
Eden folded her arms over her chest. “Are you saying you don’t want us dead?”
“No. I’m saying I don’t want you dead right now.” Leonard’s gaze shifted to Declan. “And if you think you can use that to arrest me, think again, honey bun. Wishing you dead and doing something about it are two different things.”
Declan couldn’t argue with that. Still, he’d look for an excuse, any excuse, to slap this moron behind bars.
“The way I got it figured, Declan can put Kirby through a lot more pain and suffering than I can by putting a bullet in his blood kin,” Leonard added. “Or a bullet in an old business partner’s blood kin.”
Eden’s father. And since Leonard smiled when he said it, Declan figured Leonard still had a lot of ill will toward Zander. On this point, the feeling was mutual. At least it had been until today, but he was beginning to have serious doubts about Zander’s guilt.
“So this feud is over?” Eden asked.
“Postponed,” Leonard clarified. He winced a little, touched his fingers to his temple. “Of course, it can’t be postponed for too long. I got my own deathbed to deal with.”
Yeah, and Declan needed answers before that happened, because he had the sick feeling that Leonard had already made arrangements that would extend beyond his grave.
Arrangements to kill all of them.
“I know you hired someone to try to kill the witness scheduled to testify against Zander,” Declan said. It wasn’t exactly a bluff. He did know it, had the bank records that all but proved it, but he couldn’t prove it in a court of law. Still, he wanted to see Leonard’s reaction. “You did that to set Zander up for murder. A different kind of score to settle, huh?”
Leonard didn’t respond other than to slide his fingers around the metal footboard on Kirby’s bed. He certainly didn’t deny it.
“Now you’ve hired more gunmen. More killers,” Declan spelled out. “I want names so I can put a stop to this.”
His demand undoubtedly would fall on deaf ears, but Declan had to try. And this time he did get a reaction. “I didn’t hire anyone.”
A lie, probably. But the look on Leonard’s face seemed real. He went ashy pale, sweat popping out on his forehead, and his grip tightened on the footboard.
“Get a doctor in here now,” Leonard said, his voice punctuated with his suddenly shallow breathing.
Eden obviously thought he wasn’t faking it because she pressed the button on the wall next to Kirby’s bed.
“Don’t worry.” Leonard’s color was even worse now. So was his breathing. “I’m not ready to croak yet. Kirby and I still have some unfinished business.”
With that threat still hanging in the air, the door opened and a nurse rushed in.
“I got a terminal, inoperable brain tumor,” Leonard managed to say to her.
The nurse looked at Leonard, hurried to him and called for assistance. It didn’t take long before the room was a flurry of activity. Another nurse and a medic came rushing in with a wheelchair, and the trio helped Leonard into it before they whisked him away.
Kirby still didn’t lie down, but Eden adjusted his pillows and eased him back. “I can wait outside while you two talk,” she offered.
Both Kirby and Declan shook their heads. “You need to stay here with me,” Declan said, and it wasn’t a suggestion. She wasn’t leaving his sight because all of this could be a ploy by Leonard to separate them. Especially since Leonard would know that Kirby and Declan had to talk.
“I don’t want pity playing into this,” Kirby said, looking at Declan. “You need to go ahead and get it out. Blast me for what I did.
”
Declan wanted to do just that. He wanted this firestorm of feelings to go away and for things to go back to how they were. But that was impossible. He was looking at his birth father. A man who might be dying. So, yeah, pity would play into this. Worry and fear, too. There was no way he could blast Kirby while he was in this condition.
“I wish I’d known,” Declan settled for saying. He reholstered his gun.
“I wish I’d been able to tell you. Just know I was always proud of you. Always loved you.”
Declan hadn’t doubted that, and he didn’t doubt that Kirby loved his foster brothers equally.
“Don’t put any of this on Stella,” Kirby continued. “She was scared spitless for you, and she gave you up to make sure you’d live. That makes her a saint in my book.”
“You still love her,” Eden said under her breath.
But Kirby didn’t have time to confirm or deny that. There were some voices in the hall, and a moment later someone appeared in the still-open doorway.
Declan drew his gun again.
As Beatrice stepped into the room.
She didn’t step in easily. The deputy had hold of her arm, trying to haul her back, and despite the arctic glare she was giving him, he didn’t let go.
“I have to speak to you.” Her glare snapped to Declan. “Tell your Neanderthal to back off before I slap him with a lawsuit.”
Declan didn’t care if she sued or not, and he was about to tell the deputy to toss her out on her designer-clad butt.
“I have proof that Kirby’s not your father,” Beatrice snarled.
That stopped Declan from giving the toss-her-out order, and the moment the deputy’s grip eased off her, Beatrice came storming toward him. She wasn’t armed, but she did have a piece of paper in her hand. She thrust it toward him.
“It’s the results of a DNA test I had run on you,” she explained.
Declan didn’t look at the paper yet. “How the hell did you get my DNA?”
JUSTICE IS COMING Page 13