He had taken the boy down, splitting his lip with one well-placed punch. But even though he had won the fight, it had done little to help the war he and his brothers had to face in the small town after word had spread that the two new Fitz boys were of Native American descent. In a rural town like Mystery, there would always be those people who hated those who were different.
And if word got out about how different, or immoral, Bianca’s behavior had been in having an affair with a married man, it wouldn’t just be Bianca’s memory that could be impacted. Without a doubt, Gwen hadn’t yet realized that the revelation could hurt her reputation as well. And it was more than possible that some self-righteous slob would think some kind of justice would need to be paid for Bianca’s sinful actions—and that was where things could get dangerous for Gwen and her mother.
“Does your mom know about Bianca’s relationship?”
Gwen shook her head.
At least they had one thing going for them. If Carla knew about it, it was more than likely she would spill the beans to the other barflies, and that would be a recipe for danger.
“You need to make sure she doesn’t find out. No matter what,” he continued. “I will keep this to myself. But you know we’re going to have to look into him—and Monica. Do you think his wife knows about the relationship?”
“No,” Gwen said with a long exhale. “When I stopped by, William was in a hurry for me to get back on the road.”
“Do you think it was because she may have a clue about his dealings with other women? Or do you think that he was trying to cover up something about Bianca’s murder?”
She nibbled at her lip. “I’m not the cop here, but my gut’s telling me he didn’t have anything to do with Bianca’s murder. I don’t think he was the one in your family’s barn. He’s not the kind of guy who would get his hands dirty. At least not like that. As for Monica, I don’t think he does anything in front of her. Before the thing with Bianca, she and I used to be friends. She never whispered a word about him or his affairs to me.”
“Did you know he was having affairs back then?”
“Honestly, I didn’t know him that well. I just saw him between the normal comings and goings of things. I never liked him. He always treated Monica like she was an employee rather than his wife.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Once when I was waiting for her to finish getting ready, he came in and told her that he needed a new printer for his home office. Instead of recognizing that we had plans, he made us go pick out a new one and bring it back and set it up for him. He wasn’t that busy. He could have done it himself, but no. It’s just stupid little things like that. Like his life is so much more important than hers. It made me sick every time I was around them.”
“Well, it’s no wonder he cheats on her. He doesn’t appreciate her.”
“Just shoot me if you ever see me in a relationship like that,” she said flippantly, then as though she realized that she was talking to him about a relationship, her face turned red and she started to stammer. “I mean... I don’t want... You know. I just don’t want to be with a man who treats me like that.”
There were so many endearing things about her. No matter what happened between them, he could still like her for the person she had once been, and the wonderful, albeit confusing, woman she had become.
“What do you want, Gwen?” he asked, unable to help himself or the desire that started to fill him as she stammered over her words like she had when they were young. Yet, as he asked the question, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.
She bit at the side of her cheek as their eyes met. What was she trying to tell him with that look?
“I...I don’t know, Wyatt,” she said, her voice soft. “But I don’t think crazy is a good look on me.” She motioned toward the world outside the library. “I mean, like what happened at your place. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened back there, but I can’t... I don’t know. I guess I just want to be able to just be with you...or someone. I don’t want to have to worry about other girls calling them. Or their wives. Or if they mean what they say. I’m just no good at the dating thing—I’ve been burned so much in the past. I mean, my ex was engaged two months after we broke up. I don’t have it in me to play games again. It doesn’t bring out the best in me. I’m so sorry.”
“You did let a little bit of your crazy show,” he said, with what he hoped was a comforting and dismissive laugh. “The good news is that I always liked your kind of crazy.”
She tilted her head and gave him a smile that made his heart shift in his chest. “You say that, but I doubt you mean it. I’m a lot of work. And I’m a hard woman to date.”
Was that her way of saying she would date him?
Is that what he wanted?
He liked her. He always had. And as understanding as he could be about what had happened back in his bathroom, he hadn’t really thought she was open to anything. It was amazing how she continued to surprise him.
“And I’m probably even harder,” he said in an attempt to be real. “I’m not around a lot. I’m always working, either at the department or helping out on the ranch. I don’t know if I could make you happy, Gwen. I mean...I already tried once. Sure, we were young, but that doesn’t change the fact that we failed.” He stepped back from her, and for the first time he noticed how hot the room was. “You were right about what you said back at my place. Maybe it’s not a good idea to go driving back down a dead-end road... We both know how it’s gonna end. And, as much as you don’t want your heart broken, I don’t want mine to be torn to pieces either. Not again.”
“I’m so sorry it has to be this way, Wyatt.” Her face fell and she stared down at the floor as she scuffed her shoe over the rough concrete.
“It’s okay. I guess it’s good that we’re on the same page, at least.” Even if he wasn’t sure it was the page he wanted them to be on, he had to protect himself and her from being hurt again.
He took her by the hand. Her fingers were stiff and unyielding in his, and though he should have let her go, he couldn’t force his body to do as his mind told. He thought about all the things he wanted to tell her—that he wanted her back in his life, that he didn’t want to get hurt and that the thing he feared the most was falling in love.
He led her up the stairs and past the librarian.
“Thanks for everything,” he said, giving the librarian a warm smile and a tip of his head.
She gave him a sour look, surely noticing him holding Gwen’s hand, but he didn’t care. Not waiting for her to answer, they walked through the front door.
As they stepped out onto the sidewalk he turned back to Gwen, unable to handle the tense silence between them any longer. “Let’s just get through this. Then we can talk about things when I get back from Alaska.”
She pulled her hand from his and frowned. “What are you talking about, when you get back from Alaska?”
Had he forgotten to tell her?
He stopped and turned toward her in an effort to deflect some of the blow. “Yeah... I have a prisoner transfer in a couple of days. I have to go up there, then bring him back to the county for his trial.”
“When were you going to tell me that you were just going to leave me high and dry with Bianca’s case? You just yelled at me about keeping secrets, yet here you are not telling me something like that. Don’t you think I deserved to know you were going to push me and the case on someone else?” Her words came hard and fast, and each was like a fist.
“You have it all wrong, Gwen. I wasn’t keeping anything from you. It just slipped my mind.”
“Don’t tell me that.”
“No, really,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ve had other things on my mind besides going.” He gave her a soft grin; the grin he knew she loved.
&nb
sp; She sighed, taking a second to collect herself. “So, you’re not going to go on the trip?”
He grimaced. “That’s not possible. Everything’s set up for me to go. I have to. It’s my job, Gwen.”
As he looked at her, he couldn’t help the feeling that he had been right. He was never going to be the kind of guy who could make her happy. There were just so many things standing in their way.
Even knowing that, he couldn’t help the desire that filled him every time he looked into her lake-blue eyes. The wind kicked up and blew her scent toward him. He drew the aroma of flowers and sweet grass deep into his lungs. Why did everything have to be so alluring when it came to her? Everything but the torture they seemed to always inflict upon each other.
Gwen started walking down the sidewalk. Was she just going to leave him and walk back to the ranch? Was she that mad?
“What are you doing, Gwen? I’m sorry,” he called out, catching up to her. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that there are just some things I can’t change. My job is one of them.”
Gwen turned on her heel. “I don’t care about your damn job, Wyatt. I get it. I was stupid to let what happened happen this morning. If anyone is sorry here, it’s me.”
How could he tell her that, even now when they were fighting, he wanted to be with her? That some feelings never went away?
“Wait, Gwen,” he said, reaching for her hand, but she jerked away.
“Don’t. No. Let’s not put ourselves through this. Let’s just get to the bottom of the case and each of us can go back to our own lives. We don’t need to talk about it. We don’t need to bring up old hurts—or new ones. Let’s just let each other be. We’re no good together.”
He couldn’t disagree with her more. Things weren’t easy between them. There was too much history for things to be simple. But what they didn’t have in ease, they made up for in passion. If they could just let go of some things, they could be like they were in the shower—laughing and truly letting each other see who they were at their core.
He loved her for the woman she was inside—if she would ever let him see that person again.
She started walking, making her way past the Pretties and Pastries café, and he trailed behind, unsure of how to proceed. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t make her feel something too. And he’d already apologized for making the mistake of not telling her about Alaska. What more could she want?
Gwen stopped in front of Secret Secondhand. He glanced in the window. Monica was talking to a customer, but, as she noticed them, her face pinched and she gave a tight wave. Just as Frannie had told them, Monica had a large fresh bruise on her left eye. She turned away, covering her face in shadows.
Whatever had happened after Gwen had left had been something that Monica obviously wouldn’t want to talk about. Had William hit her? Wyatt wanted to walk in and ask her about it, but from her body language, it was clear that she didn’t want to see them.
All of his deputy spidey senses tingled. William was guilty of something. And, if Wyatt had to bet, William had something to do with Bianca’s death. If Wyatt had learned one thing, it was that the type of men who used violence to control were often the same ones who ended up becoming murderers. Usually it wasn’t intentional. Or at least that was what they loved to say in court—that they didn’t mean to, or that things had just gotten out of hand.
He hated that kind of man—the kind who thought hitting was okay. No woman—heck, no one—deserved to live in a constant fear of physical violence. PFMA, partner or family member assault, were among his least favorite calls to take, and one of the most common. It seemed like most days he had at least one, if not two, calls in which he had to break up a family’s fight.
Unfortunately, in the case of abuse, the woman was very unlikely to go against the husband. In the state of Montana, the court systems were starting to toe a harder line against perpetrators of domestic violence, but there still wasn’t much they could do to protect the victims. There were hundreds of cases in which a woman finally got the strength, or hit rock bottom, and turned in the abuser—only to have the abuser get out of jail and murder the woman they felt was responsible for putting them behind bars.
It was a no-win system.
Gwen pulled on his hand. “Are we going in or what?”
He motioned toward Monica. “She didn’t call the police and report anything. I bet you a hundred bucks that William hit her, but if you asked her what happened she’ll have some stupid excuse—she ran into something, fell down the stairs...something.”
“I know Monica. She’ll open up to me.”
“You said she hasn’t in the past. Why do you think it would be different with me, a deputy, at your side?” He gave a cynical laugh. “The more you hang out with me, the more you’ll see that this uniform tends to make everyone tighten up. We aren’t going to get anywhere with Monica. I think it’s better if we look into other things first. Namely, William. He’s a hell of a good place to start as far as our list of suspects.”
“Sure. If you think it’s best, but...” She turned away from the window, but glanced back at Monica as if she was thinking about exactly how good their friendship was...and if what he was saying was true.
“Trust me about Monica. Before we can go to her, we need to figure out what motivates her. And what it will take to make her flip against her husband—that is, if her husband is the murderer. He may be nothing more than a piece of—”
“Oh, I can guarantee he’s that,” Gwen said, finishing his thought. “So, if we’re not going to talk to Monica, what did you have in mind for your next step?”
He started walking back to the car, Gwen following. In truth, he didn’t have much to go on, so he went with the first thing that came to mind. “The medical examiner was talking about Beuthanasia, but what I’ve been wondering is where it came from. Did she have it with her? Or did someone else have it? Does she have a partner in her vet practice? Or does she have an employee who would have access to the drug and had a problem with her?”
Gwen tapped on her lip. “There’s always something going on at the clinic. You know, small-town stuff. But there’s not been anything going on recently, at least nothing that she’d mentioned to me.”
“Let’s head over there.” He glanced down at his watch. “They have to be up and running. Maybe we can talk to someone who has been working closely with Bianca—maybe they can tell us a little more about her affair with William.”
He was grasping for straws, but that was exactly what an investigation normally was—following tiny leads, most that led nowhere... But once in a while, in a moment of intuition, of following that little wiggle in his gut, they led him to the answers he needed.
* * *
SHE WAS ACTING like a lunatic and she knew it. She wanted him, all of him, but the fear of being close to someone was nearly overwhelming. She had so much on her hands with her mother, her sister and the needs of the ranch. That, mixed with all the apprehension she was feeling... It was all so confusing.
All she could do was move through this one moment at a time, then one day, then one week. If he was the man she thought he was, he would understand and forgive her for the way she was feeling.
She glanced over at Wyatt. He turned toward Bianca’s vet clinic. His caramel-colored eyes were hidden behind his aviators and he seemed focused on the road—maybe a little too focused. Was he avoiding talking to her? Was he trying to stop them from having another disagreement? Or was he just waiting for her to say something?
“How long are you going to be in Alaska?” she asked, hoping he was just waiting.
He sucked in a long breath that told her she may have been wrong.
“I know you have to go,” she said, trying to take the edge off her question. “I know what your job entails. I guess I want to know more about the man you are�
��as my friend. That’s all.”
“As your friend?” He gave her a look she wasn’t able to read—but the best she could guess was that it was halfway between questioning and confused.
“Yeah. The truth is, Wyatt, I’ve missed you.” She sighed. “You were my whole life for so long. It was hard when I...I ended things. You helped me through so much, with my dad and all...and my mom. When you weren’t around, it was like I had lost myself and who I was. I was a ghost of the person I had been. I lost everything. I never want to feel that way again.”
“You couldn’t, Gwen. You know who you are now. Who knows? Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that we broke up... You got to know who you are and I got to know who I am. We each got to go out in the world and experience things we wouldn’t have if we’d stayed together.”
She wasn’t sure she agreed with him. If they’d stayed together, maybe they would have simply experienced the world together instead of apart—and maybe they both would have been better for it. Or maybe they both would have been so pulled to this town they would never have left. That had certainly been the case for her, and without a doubt, if she would have allowed their relationship to continue, he would have given up the world for her.
Now, rightly, he wouldn’t even give up a trip to Alaska. Not that she blamed him, or didn’t understand that he had to go. Plus, they’d only been speaking again for a couple of days. She couldn’t expect anything from him.
She sighed. Stop. She had to stop. She couldn’t pick apart everything he said, every choice he made and every feeling she had—it wasn’t healthy. For either of them. For once, she just needed to go with the moment and let life happen. She couldn’t micromanage this. She couldn’t plan the unexpected.
Then again, some questions needed answering. “So you’re not mad at me for the past? For breaking things off?”
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