High School Reunion (21 page)

But Laurel knew it was their last chance. Their only chance.

Squeezing the piece of glass between her fingers, she bent her elbow like a spring and stabbed Ralph in his gun arm.

He screeched. A shot rang out.

She dove for the ground and rolled away from Ralph as Cade rushed him and tackled him. He slammed him down to the ground.

“I’m bleeding! I’m dying!” Ralph cried. “You shot me!”

“Shut up,” Cade growled as he jerked Ralph’s arms behind him and cuffed him. “The bullet barely grazed your shoulder. You’ll live to stand trial.”

Laurel’s breath caught in a sob of relief as Cade quickly read Ralph his rights. Maybe it was finally over.

Cade turned to her. “Laurel, honey. Are you okay?”

“I think so.” She rolled over and sat up. “What about Fred? And Sheryl?”

“You’re bleeding,” he croaked.

She looked down. The hem of her jeans and the whole side of her tennis shoe was soaked with blood. “A lot of that is Sheryl’s blood. But I did step on a piece of glass.” She stuck her leg out. “Oh, yeah, I cut my hand, too.”

“You stabbed Ralph with that piece of glass?”

“It was all I had,” she said as she pushed herself up off the ground.

Cade scrutinized Laurel closely. Satisfied that she was okay, he went to check on Fred, who was pushing himself up to his feet.

“Sorry, Cade,” Fred muttered, holding a hand to his bleeding head. “I let a bump on the head keep me from helping you.”

“Looks to me like that’s quite a blow. You might need some stitches.”

“Nah. I’m fine. I’ll take Ralph in for you.” He glanced around and spotted his weapon a few feet away. He retrieved and holstered it.

“Okay, but I’m going to get the EMTs down here to look at everybody. You make sure they check out your head.”

“Sure thing, Cade.” Fred grabbed Langston’s arm.

Cade pulled out his cell phone and dialed Kit Haydel. “Hey, Kit, I need the EMTs down here at the creek bank. Got several injuries. Hurry.”

Then he called Shelton to bring the crime-scene kit. He pocketed his phone and bent over Sheryl. He felt for her pulse. It was weak but steady. He did his best to staunch the bleeding.

Within five minutes, the EMTs showed up. They took over Sheryl’s care, hanging an IV and carrying her out of the clearing on a stretcher. Fred went with them, guarding Langston. Cade sent Laurel over to have them tend to her ankle and hand.

For the moment, he was alone. He leaned against the Swinging Oak, shaky with relief now that the danger was over.

He wiped his face and gave in to the abject fear that had taken hold of him when he’d seen the gun at Laurel’s throat. He clenched his fists. She’d nearly died, and the whole time she’d looked to him to save her.

He hadn’t known there was that much fear inside him. Or that much love.

“Crap,” he muttered. What the hell was he doing—falling for her? She’d be heading back to D.C. as soon as she could.

Oh, she’d have to stay around for a few days. There would be paperwork to complete, evidence to process and statements to take before she could leave. But none of that would take long. He predicted Langston wouldn’t sur
vive an hour of intense questioning before breaking down. They’d have a signed confession before dark. They might not even need the evidence, except to confirm Ralph’s story.

He heard footsteps. He cleared his throat and straightened, still clutching his weapon. He watched the path to see who was coming.

It was one of Kit’s voluntary firemen. He carried the camera and the crime-scene kit.

“Hey, Joe. What’re you doing with that stuff? Where’s Shelton?” Cade asked him.

“He called Chief Haydel and asked him to get the kit and the camera over here to you. Apparently Shelton had an accident.”

“An accident? Is he all right?”

The fireman nodded. “The chief told me Kathy Adler ran into him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cade perked up.

“Apparently she plowed into the side of the squad car, then took off in that monster SUV of hers. The collision ripped a tire so he couldn’t drive it. The Chief said to tell you she was coming from the direction of the Visitor Center.”

Cade’s brain raced. So Kathy had been in the vicinity of the Visitor Center right around the time Sheryl Posey was shot.

Had Kathy shot her? Ralph had certainly been telling the truth about that. There was no way he could have shot Sheryl and then made it around to the clearing so fast.

Cade took the camera and kit from Joe and thanked him.

“No problem, sir. Need me to stick around and help?”

“No,” Cade said. “Go ahead.” He quickly processed the crime scene and taped it off. While he was working, Shelton called and asked if everyone was okay.

Cade filled him in.

“Well, if that don’t beat all, Cade,” Shelton said. “I’m heading over to Mrs. Adler’s house in my pickup. I figure she’ll go home eventually, if she doesn’t wrap herself around a tree first.”

“Be careful,” Cade warned him. “She may be armed.”

“Armed? Kathy Adler?”

“Several shots came from the rise over near the Visitor Center. Kathy could have been involved in the shooting.”

“Is this connected to Fred’s girl’s death?”

“I’m afraid so. When you question Kathy about the collision, don’t mention the shooting. I don’t have any proof yet.”

“You got it, boss.”

Cade hung up, took one last glance around the cordoned-off crime scene, and then headed up the path toward his truck. Just as he rounded the last curve of the path, a soft, firm, sweet-smelling someone ran into him.

It was Laurel. He reached out to steady her and caught her bandaged hand.

She winced.

“Sorry,” he muttered. He looked her over from head to toe. She looked a hundred percent better than she had a few minutes ago. The EMTs had bandaged her ankle and her hand. She’d managed to wash her face, getting her hair damp in the process. It curled around her face. She looked fresh and sweet and tired, and very unlike an FBI agent. His heart twisted but he ignored it.

“Stitches?”

She looked at her hand. “A couple.”

“I thought you were going to the hospital with the EMTs.”

“My car’s here.”

“Right. I’m supposed to believe they released you?”

She waved a hand. “I told them I was fine.”

“So they didn’t release you.” His voice was gruffe
r than he intended it to be, but he couldn’t shake the vision of her with Langston’s gun buried in her neck.

She could have been killed because he hadn’t had the foresight to put his damn cell phone on vibrate.

Right now he was feeling exposed and vulnerable. He wasn’t ready to make apologies and admit how afraid he’d been that he couldn’t save her.

So he decided the best defense was a strong offense. “Why the hell did you leave the house after I told you not to?”

“Because Sheryl called and told me someone was going to kill her.”

“You fell for that? You should have waited for me.”

“I didn’t
fall
for anything, Dupree. After what happened to Debra, I couldn’t risk waiting. For all I knew you were trapped in the fire or shot by whoever
lured
you out. When I couldn’t reach you, I called Fred to meet me at the parking lot, but he didn’t wait. He came down here by himself and Sheryl got the drop on him. He managed to knock the gun out of her hand, but then she conked him with the tree branch.”

“Sorry I didn’t hear your call. The sirens were blasting and the fire was roaring—”

Laurel held up a hand. “You got here in time. But what I want to know is—why didn’t you take the shot?”

Cade couldn’t meet her gaze right then. If he did, she’d know why. Trying to protect his heart, he gave her the stock answer. “I couldn’t get a clean shot.”

“That’s bull. You had him before he twisted. You should have taken it.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, Special Agent Gillespie.”

She frowned. “Fine. If you’ll let me know when you plan to be back at your place, I’ll swing by and get my stuff. I should move back to the bed-and-breakfast.”

Cade saw the shadows in her hazel eyes. Did she want him to ask her to stay? Because he couldn’t. Not now that he knew how he felt about her. He’d had relationships—a couple of fairly serious ones—but he’d never felt like this before.

He didn’t know how to deal with it.

“You don’t have to move out,” he muttered.

Her gaze faltered. “I think it’s best.”

She sounded cold as ice. Did she regret what had happened between them now that the danger was over?

“I’ll run by and let you in. Then I have to question Ralph and deal with Kathy.”

“Kathy?”

He nodded wearily. “Yeah. She was speeding and ran her car into the squad car and then left the scene. Shelton said she was coming from the direction of the Visitor Center.”

Laurel’s eyes shone. “Really? Oh, my gosh, it was Kathy who shot Sheryl?”

“Looks like it.”

“I have
got
to hear what she has to say. She’s
up to her ears in this mess.”

He nodded. “I agree. But you should take it easy—”

She stepped in front of him, her back stif
f. “Look, Dupree, I don’t need to take it easy. I c
an handle myself. So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to tell me what
to do.” She turned and stalked down
the path toward the parking area.

Her indignant stalk would have been more impressive and less amusing if she hadn’t been limping, but oddly, Cade didn’t feel like smiling. To his chagrin, the lump was back in his throat.

Chapter Thirteen

Laurel packed her suitcase for the third time in the three days she’d been in Dusty Springs. This time was the hardest, and not because her right hand was bandaged.

She stopped in the middle of zipping her suitcase and stared at the open bedroom door. Her heart squeezed so tightly in her chest that it physically hurt.

Cade had made love to her in that room. He’d held her and touched her and filled her with an ecstasy akin to nothing she’d ever felt before. She’d finally gotten the one thing she’d always wanted.
Cade Dupree.

Back when she was sixteen, she’d been sure that if he’d just pay attention to her, her life would be complete.

Well, he’d paid attention to her. Plenty of attention. And when she left here this time, she wouldn’t just be leaving behind a schoolgirl crush. She’d be leaving her heart.

She walked over to the bedroom door. The unmade bed still held the imprint of their bodies. She couldn’t leave it like that. It would be like leaving a love note behind. She straightened the sheets and the blanket, letting her hands linger on the pillows. She felt the sting of tears. Her throat ached. Coming back to Dusty Springs ha
d let her realize a dream. The fact that she’d be leaving the dream behind was probably fitting.

Cade had only known her for three days. Prior to that, she’d been nothing but a face in a yearbook. He couldn’t possibly care for her as much as she cared for him. He was part of her past. It was probably best that he remain there.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but that was okay. It was only natural to cry at goodbyes.

She walked around the bed to smooth one last wrinkle and almost knocked her knee on the bedside table drawer. It was ajar. She started to push it shut but the edge of a framed picture caught her eye.

Oh, no. Don’t go snooping.

She was going to look. Yes, she really had sunk that low. Cade was at Three Springs Hospital, checking on Sheryl and Ralph. There was no way he would be back any time soon.

Disgusted with herself, she slid the drawer open. The picture was of Cade’s high school graduation. Cade’s dad had his arm around Cade’s shoulder and Cade was looking at him with pride and love. On his dad’s other side, James’s gaze lingered somewhere beyond the range of the camera. He looked terminally bored.

“Oh, Cade,” she whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You were never in James’s shadow.” She started to put the picture back in the drawer. But something else caught her eye. An open envelope with the FBI’s seal on it.

Close the drawer,
she commanded herself. But instead she reached for the envelope. Great, Gillespie. You’re officially a stalker now.

She slid the sheets of paper out of the envelope and unfolded them. It was his assignment letter from the FBI.

Speaking of dreams left behind.
Holding her breath to keep from sobbing, she scanned it quickly.

A noise penetrated her brain. It was a key turning in the front door lock. She froze.

Busted.

Do it, she commanded herself. Toss the envelope and picture back into the drawer, kick it shut and pretend to be making the bed.

But she couldn’t move as footsteps crossed the hardwood floor.

“Laurel!”

“Mr. Dupree!” It was Cade’s dad.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I—I shouldn’t be. I’m packing to leave right now.”

He eyed the letter in her hand. “So Cade tells me y’all may have cracked the case.”

“I think so. As soon as we get the evidence back from the FBI lab, we should be able to wrap it up. Sheryl Posey gave Cade her statement this morning. She witnessed Ralph choking Wendell before he strung him up.”

She spoke nervously and quickly. It took a lot of will-power not to hide the hand holding Cade’s FBI letter behind her back.

“We’re sure that the fibers under Debra’s nails will turn out to be a match for Ralph’s pants. Luckily he wears custom-tailored suits, so the match should be easy. If they’re a match, we should have him on two counts of murder—Debra’s and Wendell Vance’s.”

Mr. Dupree nodded. “Sounds like everything’s working out fine. So—” He smiled. “Wha-cha got there?”

“I—uh—” she stammered.

“You were snooping?” he asked.

Her face burned like fire. Looking down at her feet, she nodded.

“It’s only natural. You’re a cop. It’s what we do. So wha’d you find?”

Mr. Dupree stepped forward and took the envelope from her fingers. His smile faded and he shook his head. “I wanted to tell Cade he didn’t have to give up the FBI and come back here, but the first few weeks after my stroke I couldn’t talk at all. I never expected him to take over my job. I always thought Fred would be Chief after me.”