Burn on the Western Slope (Crimson Romance) (29 page)

“Why don’t you live here instead of the condo?”

“Too far away from town. Too many memories.”

“Oh.” She glanced down, her smile fading. Her fingers stuttered against his, and he brought them up to his lips to kiss them, one by one.

“Not all bad. Chayton and I came up here with our dad to fish and hunt or hang out. Mom would come out and sit by this window for hours. It’s easier to stay close to town, especially in the winter. You never know when you could be stranded for days.”

“Ummm, I’d love to be stranded for days.” She nuzzled her nose to his and wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling closer.

So would he, if it meant he could be stranded with her, forget his worries, and lose himself in her warmth. That’s what he loved about this place. The worries of life may be right outside, but from this vantage point it was hard to notice anything but hopefulness.

The top of the sun peeked over the mountain, its rays spreading out like angel’s wings and illuminating the colors of the vista in breathtaking dimensions.

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” Reagan whispered.

No, he hadn’t seen anything more beautiful than this woman who shared this sunrise with him. As the sun rose, so did Garret’s desire for her. Was this what love felt like? This aching need to touch and taste every tickle of her breath? This dreadful horror that something would come along and destroy the unstable tie that held them?

A breeze ruffled through the mountains and though it was silent from their perch, the trees danced and swayed with the tenor. The crystalline sun disentangled itself from the mountaintop, rising higher, as if in slow motion, until it was too brilliant to look at.

Reagan stroked a kiss across his cheek, his lips, and ruffled his hair as she said against his mouth, “Thank you for showing me this.”

He swallowed her words, gliding his tongue across the crest of her mouth and plunging into a whirlwind of giddiness as he tasted the bittersweet tang of coffee and sugar.

His cell phone rang, piercing the sanguinity of the morning. Garret jumped and pulled away, fearing it could only mean one thing.

Bad news.

“Damn,” he said as he checked the caller ID, confirming his fear. “I’ve got to take this.” He stood and presented his back to Reagan. “Garret here,” he clipped into the phone.

“Kyle was found.”

“Where is he?”

“In the morgue,” Buchanan said.

Garret heaved in a breath. “What happened?”

“He was found in Mexico, his throat slit. He had a few thousand and some change and some guns.”

“How did he make it across the border?”

“Who knows?”

Garret glanced at Reagan, who frowned at him.

“Okay, so it’s over, I guess.”

“Well, not quite.”

“Not quite?”

“The judge dismissed the only evidence we had against Nelson Mass, and now he’s running lose. One witness we thought we had in jail was murdered last night. Go figure.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“It is. Because you see, there’s more.”

Garret’s rapid heartbeat twitched in his jaw. He wanted to wrap his hands around Buchanan’s neck and squeeze, slowly. Why didn’t he get to the damn point?

“We’ve linked Kyle to Gil Grant.”

Fuck. More ties to Gil Grant?

“How … ” was all he could mutter.

“Business cards, phone records, and jewelry. Lots and lots of jewelry.”

“You’re shitting me.”

He caught Reagan watching him. He smiled as reassuring a smile he could muster and she quickly glanced away. Closing his eyes, he turned away.

“I’m not. I’m emailing you pictures and my report. Meanwhile, you get to work on Reagan. Her boyfriend was found — ”

“Ex,” Garret muttered.

“His throat was slashed. The necklace only Reagan saw is gone after she claims someone may have broken into her condo, and it turns out Gil Grant was found with part of it. Sounds suspicious enough to bring her in for questioning.”

“She’s not involved.” Garret stepped further from Reagan’s hearing range. His throat felt as if rusted metal had lodged in his windpipe. He could barely breathe, barely think, and Reagan sat on his couch across the room, watching the sunrise, her soft hands wrapped around a coffee mug and a smile on her face. Was she listening? Trying to hear his conversation? Or just enjoying the view?

Or was she playing him?

He rubbed his hand across his face, but that didn’t clear his thinking.

“Fine. She’s not involved. But you are. So I’m pulling you from this assignment. Bringing in someone else who isn’t attached.”

“No.”

“You’re sleeping with her, and she could be involved in your investigation. Her uncle dies, she comes up to Montana and conveniently finds this necklace in the dresser.”

“I’m not … ” He didn’t continue. Those two words sounded weak, whiny, and gravelly. No way in hell Garret could convince Buchanan. He wasn’t the Supervisory Special Agent for nothing.

“You gave me this assignment because you thought I was going to quit.”

“So?”

Garret knew he was crossing the line, but at this point he didn’t care. He hadn’t broken any laws. He hadn’t done anything but the right thing his entire life, and look where that had gotten him. “So. You pull me from this assignment, and I will quit.”

• • •

“Is everything okay?” Reagan asked as she poured another cup of coffee. Handing Garret his cup, she treaded back into the room of windows, trying to play it cool. Trying to ignore the slump of his shoulders and the vacant look in his eyes after his private phone call.

She didn’t want to pry. Garret had a job as an important undercover FBI agent, and it was none of her business. She didn’t want to sound needy or clingy, so if he wanted to tell her, fine. And if not …

Well, she’d wonder, but she’d have to deal with it.

Kyle had always had this power trip, this “I know something you don’t know” thing that drove her crazy, not because he wouldn’t tell her but because she simply didn’t care. At first, it’d been bonding time for them until it became a ridiculous kindergarten taunt.

She wanted to share things with Garret. She wanted to know what was on his mind. She wanted him to share his life with her. Because she did care. Everything seemed right, and that terrified her. She liked him, a lot. Too much. She enjoyed being with him and, for the first time in her life even if she didn’t have a job anymore, her life was going somewhere.

But she knew she was headed for heartbreak. Garret worked for the federal government and wasn’t going to stick around. She couldn’t fall in love with him.

Oh, but she already had.

“Reagan?” Garret approached behind her and touched her on the arm. His touch warmed her, but his gruff voice pebbling her neck sent chills of longing and dread.

She turned to him, afraid of what he was going to say. “Yes?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Oh God, had something happened to her mom or dad? Naomi? Her panic must have shown on his face, because he immediately said, “Kyle is dead.”

A wave of ice-cold salt water surged over Reagan. Clogging her throat, stinging her eyes, making it impossible to take in a full breath. Her ears rang as that of the surf crashing against shore. She staggered, shifting one foot behind her to retain her stance. She wheezed as relief rushed through her. Her mom was okay. Her dad. Naomi. Expecting the worst, she wasn’t sure how to feel about this news.

Kyle dead?

She didn’t miss him. She’d never loved him. But dead? That was a topic she hadn’t expected. No matter how she felt about him now, he’d been a part of her life at one time. He had a brother, his mother was in the nursing home, and his sister-in-law was pregnant with her first child.

Dead?

“What … ” she tried to say, but couldn’t get past the sharp bile of disbelief.

“He was found in Mexico. His throat was slit.”

“Slit?”

Everything seemed surreal. She glanced at her hand and it swam in front of her. The once magnificent view of the mountains outside was now tedious, something she had to pay attention to.

Did the world grieve Kyle? Or did it just go on living? Should she pay her respects? Call his brother?

“There’s more.” Garret clutched her hand, but his warmth did little to give her strength. This was not what she’d expected to hear after his phone call. The crumbling of relief that her loved ones were okay should have made her feel guilty.

“What?”

“The man who was murdered in Tanyon a few days ago, we believe he had part of the necklace you said was in your dresser. We’ve linked Kyle to this man. The rest of the necklace was never found.”

Reagan blew out a breath, slowly. By now, it shouldn’t surprise her that he’d be involved in something, but something deadly?

“How?”

Garret shrugged off her unfinished question. “Have you seen him since you left Florida?”

“No,” she said, harshly. Calming her breath, she stepped away from him.

“Were you close?” Garret asked.

Tears burned Reagan’s eyes, but they weren’t really for Kyle. They were for his family. For what he wasn’t, what he should have been. She shook her head. Her legs felt like heavy anchors dredging through a salty swampy marsh as she made her way to the couch. “No, we were never close. We lived together for a short time, but we were never close.”

“Will you be okay?”

Reagan sat on the couch and planted her hands on her thighs. “Yes. I’m just shocked.”

“The FBI has been looking into Kyle and the Mass family in Florida. Have you heard of them?”

“Yes, I believe so. Don’t they own some furniture store or something?”

“Yes, allegedly using it as their cover. They’re allegedly involved in jewel theft.”

“Jewels?” she repeated, her mind not yet able to categorize everything he told her.

“They are an organized crime family involved with stealing jewels, selling jewels, that sort of thing. Jewelry theft is a huge business spanning over millions of dollars. We believe the Mass family is largely involved. We also believe they were involved in my last assignment.”

Reagan sat in silence, trying to absorb what he was telling her. Trying to ignore the specifics in the back of her mind that told her more than Garret admitted. “So you knew about Kyle before you met me?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“I was on leave when my SSA called and told me Kyle’s girlfriend was heading this way. Buchanan wanted me to watch you, see if you might know anything.”

Reagan shot up. “What!” Fury exploded behind her eyes until she saw nothing but white hazy spots and Garret’s unsmiling face.

He’d brought her here to tell her this so she couldn’t leave. She had nowhere to go. Before the sunrise, she could see the lights of town twinkling below. Now all she saw was nothing but depth and snow.

“You’ve been using me all this time.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

Reagan flinched away when he reached for her. She flew into the bedroom, pulling on clothes. Her happiness exploded like a helium balloon, its air escaping along with her hopes and fantasies.

“It’s not like you think,” Garret said as he followed her.

“What do I think?” Her angry, jerky movements weren’t enough to exhibit her rage. All this time, all this time he was using her. Investigating her.

“You think I — ”

“What?” She turned to face him so that she could see every nuance of his expression. He stood by the door, his arm perched on the frame. “Fucked me so I’d tell you about Kyle?”

Garret blinked, slowly, and she watched his chest rise and fall. “Did you know something about Kyle?”

She threw her boot at him. He caught it. She cursed.

“I knew he was a dirty cheating slime ball. Just like you.” Reagan tugged on her socks and her knee-high boot, tightening the lace in record speed. Standing, she marched to him and seized the other from his grasp, refusing to look at him. Her balance teetered as she tried to slip it on, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her helplessness. She braced one hand on the wall as she loosened the lace and lugged on the boot, refusing to sit. Refusing to reveal any kind of vulnerability or regret.

Refusing to let him see she gave a damn.

Garret remained in the doorway, watching. Unmoving. She pushed past him, his woodsy scent all the more reason to hate him, or at least hate the effect he had on her. She donned her jacket, slipped on her gloves, and tore out the front door.

“It’s too far to walk,” Garret called behind her.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Garret pulled on her arm and whipped her around. Eye level with his chest, she didn’t fail to notice the tension streaming out of every pore of his body. The cords in his neck bulged with each breath. His eyes, a deep, dark, abysmal dye, wouldn’t let her inside his head. Which was a good thing, now that she knew the psychosis of his mental state.

He wore nothing but athletic pants and a matching tee, and every muscle striated out of his body as he pulled her inside. He didn’t even appear cold, though the temperature was barely a hair above zero. It pissed her off. He wasn’t a superhero. He wasn’t even a hero in her eyes. Not anymore.

Should she be concerned? Maybe he was past feeling? Maybe his cold heart made him impervious.

“Don’t be stupid,” Garret said, his voice coating her with a black tarry ire of rebellion. “You’ll get yourself killed if you leave on your own.”

She knew he was right. She couldn’t get back to town without killing herself. She wasn’t sure if she knew where town was from here.

“And it isn’t like you think, but it could be dangerous. The crime family your mom said Ray was involved in may be the same. We have to find out. Your life could be in danger. Your brother is dead. Kyle is dead.”

“Well, you’re the FBI agent,” she said sarcastically. “I guess you can figure it out on your own now, can’t you?”

Garret shrugged, the warmth of his eyes fully gone. “I have to shower before we leave.”

Just like that. Just like that she wasn’t important to him anymore. Tears burned her throat and eyes, but she sniffed them back before he saw them. She focused on anger. Anger would keep her grounded in hate. Anger would keep her pain under control, at least for now.