One Good Man (16 page)

Especially one who knew how to swim, but didn’t like to, who preferred to dangle her feet in the water from above, to watch it lap at the shoreline. Silly woman. At least he’d finally managed to get her to agree to join him.

“Just so we’re clear,” Jamie said sternly, her hands on her hips as she stared down, grimacing. “We are not having sex in the water. I don’t care how clean you say it is.”

Until she’d said it, he hadn’t even thought about sex…Okay, he’d sorta thought it, but not seriously…Okay, he’d been serious, but pretty sure she’d say no. Which she had. “Just jump.”

“I’m not going to break my neck, am I?”

“Not if you jump in feetfirst. Don’t dive. Just jump.”

“You’re sure I won’t die?”

“Only if I come up there and strangle you.” The woman was nuts. She killed him, and he didn’t know how he’d ever get enough. “Now jump!”

She turned around, took several retreating steps, enough to make him nervous that she might actually leave, then stopped, spun and ran, launching off the end of the dock in a flying leap, screaming, then grabbing her nose to pinch it closed before going under the water.

A huge grin on his face, Kell waited for her to come up. She did nearly immediately, shaking her head, her hair flying, water drops splattering all around her. He swam toward her, chuckling, taking on mouthfuls of water he spit out when he stopped.

“Nice jump,” he told her, his legs and arms stroking the water, his face aching from his grin.

“Nice water,” she told him, moving similarly, though without the same joyful expression. And then she scrunched up her eyes. “Wait a minute. Are those fish I keep feeling?”

“They are. Mexican tetra. Pupfish. They’re harmless.” He didn’t tell her about the tetras belonging to the piranha family.

Treading water, she looked at him, one dark wet brow arched. “I never thought you would be the one to send me to swim with the fishes.”

Kell’s laugh echoed around them—until Jamie brought her hand down on the water’s surface in a splat that sent a huge splash into his face. He caught his breath, held it, flipped ass over end and dived into the clear pool.

He grabbed her feet and tugged her with him, releasing her before she had time to react, then surfacing right behind her. She turned, the wicked gleam in her eye his only warning. She kicked out and launched forward, her hands on his shoulders pushing him down.

They chased each other from one side of the pond to the other, tussling, attacking, choking when laughing and going under with open mouths. Kell couldn’t remember the last time he’d played like a kid, or had this much fun with a woman without being in bed. He was pretty sure he never had, and what a crying shame.

Exhausted after an hour of horseplay fueled by coffee and camaraderie, they wordlessly agreed to a ceasefire, floating lazily to catch their breath before heading for the dock. Kell boosted Jamie up first, then followed. Dripping and spent, he collapsed on his back. She sat on the end, legs dangling.

Eyes scrunched against the sun, he eventually forced himself onto his elbows. They needed to get clothes on before Jamie especially got burned. His T-shirt was here somewhere…“Now are you going to tell me why you don’t like swimming?”

She afforded him an over-the-shoulder look. “I almost drowned when I was six. I fell into the deep end of a private pool our church had rented for the summer. Parents dropped off their kids for the afternoon, picked them up before dinner.”

He sat up the rest of the way. “That was a long time ago. And you are a very good swimmer.”

She shrugged, and he wished he could see her face. “I guess all the years after, I only remembered the fright, not the fun.”

Still…“But you did have fun. Today.”

“No. I was faking. Like I always do.” She glanced back again, winked, returned to facing away. Then, with Kell still looking for the humor in what she’d just said, she sighed with her entire body, braced her palms behind her and leaned back. “I think I could live here. I can’t believe that you don’t. That you live in suburbia instead.”

“Hell of a long commute to Midland,” was all he said, curious to see where she was taking this. He was still stuck on her faking it.

“Can you imagine raising a family here?”

This was where he came to unwind, to forget what he came up against the rest of the time. Living here would make it hard to do either. Then again, he’d never thought of living here with her. Or of raising a family…“A bit isolated, don’t you think?”

“That’s what makes it so perfect.” She sat forward again, tucked her crossed legs beneath her, looked all around. “You’d have to clear more of the property. Add on to the cabin at some point. Put in a barn and corral for horses. Section off a spot for a vegetable garden.”

The horses he could see. The larger cabin, too. He’d want dogs. Five at least. But a garden? “Have you ever tried to grow anything in what passes for soil out here?”

“Raised beds, then. A greenhouse, even. With a separate area for flowers. God, I could spend hours—” And just like that, she cut herself off, reaching up to press her palm to her forehead as if pushing her thoughts back inside.

Was she embarrassed to be caught dreaming? Or was it that she was dreaming about his place, and he assumed by extension, him? Was there more to her dream than a vegetable greenhouse and horses? He thought back to what she’d said…

Ah, a place to start looking for answers. He moved closer, sitting beside her on the end of the dock, his navy board shorts making puddles that spread toward her. “What about the isolation makes it perfect, Jamie?”

She stared down at the water where Kell could see the tiny tetra schooling. “The quiet. The privacy. Swimming in your underwear and not worrying about an audience.”

He smiled at that. “I would think quiet and privacy were both abundant in Weldon.”

“Not enough that I can swim in my underwear.”

“You don’t have a pool,” he told her, knowing this wasn’t about what she wore swimming at all. “What’s going on, Jamie? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She blew out a puff of breath, closed her eyes, shook her head. “It’s so stupid—”

“It’s not stupid.”

“You haven’t heard it yet.”

“Only because you haven’t said it. I’m waiting. I’m listening—”

“I’m thinking that if I’d lived someplace like this all these years, he wouldn’t have found me.”

He could tell by the way she’d blurted it that she was tired of holding it in as much as she was embarrassed by entertaining the thought. But they both knew if the suspect was determined, he would’ve found her even if she’d been hiding in the desert in Tunisia.

What he needed to do now was make her see that it was okay for her to be scared.

“The home you and your mother made in Weldon? Best thing you could have done. Warren worked his ass off looking for a way to circumvent the rules and regs of witness protection, but there was no pending trial, no suspect for you to testify against…”

Kell shook his head, remembering the mornings he’d come into the office to find that his mentor had never gone home. “Well, he tried. And he was glad to see you and Kate safely settled as the Danbys.”

“He helped us a lot. With the red tape of changing our names. I know my mother asked his opinion on the places she was considering before she moved us.” She paused a moment, picked a splinter of wood from the edge of the dock, tossed it into the pond. “Now I wonder why we bothered.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“Sure I can. We were never safe. Not if he was living nearby and watching. Even if he wasn’t, he had no trouble finding us—”

“He had help. If he knew about the hypnosis through a leak, then that same leak would have told him where to find you.” Kell’s phone calls this morning while the coffee had brewed were as much about locating the information’s source as its destination.

“Like I said.” She shrugged, got to her feet. “Never safe.”

Kell waited several seconds, then stood, too. He didn’t want to burst her bubble, but…“You wouldn’t have been any safer here.”

“I could have seen him coming.”

Because of the wide-open spaces? Maybe if the clearing around the cabin and pond was expanded like she’d suggested he do. As it was, getting close to the cabin without being seen would not be that hard. The thought had Kell lifting his head, looking around. He’d taken every possible precaution on the trip—

Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch! He’d told no one but Norm Greenley where he and Jamie would be. That didn’t mean it would take a rocket scientist to think to look here. He talked about his property often. His name was on the deed, and a search of tax records would give anyone looking the exact location.

Shit and double shit. If he’d been using the head on his shoulders instead of introducing Jamie to the one in his pants, he would’ve realized he could put an end to this thing today. All he had to do was get Greenley to let slip the location where he’d stashed Jamie.

Once the information was out in the open, the leak in the Midland office—assuming that’s what had happened—would feed the details to the killer. When the bastard showed up, Kell and his army would be waiting.

He reached for her elbow, turned her toward him. “Hey, we need to get you out of the sun before you crisp. And as much fun as I’m having here, I need to check in with my team.”

She pulled away, lifted her hand to shade her eyes. “Did you talk to them earlier?”

He nodded, and started walking in reverse, motioning for her to come with him. “While making coffee, yeah.”

“And nothing?” she asked, following. “No sign of the car?”

“Not yet,” he said. But all that was about to change.

The worst part was, she didn’t know why she’d been thinking about kids when she’d decided long ago having a family was not in her future. No, the worst part was that she did.

Kell would make the most wonderful father. She could see him roughhousing and romping and wrestling with sons and daughters, teaching them right from wrong, helping them with their reading, writing and ’rithmetic.

He was just that kind of guy. He made her think of home and hearth, of family. Her childhood had been fairly all-American, her parents high-school sweethearts, doting and in love. When her father left, it hadn’t been about his relationship with her mother falling apart.

No, he hadn’t been strong enough to face what Jamie—Stephanie—had been through. He couldn’t deal with what she’d seen, what she’d suffered. The one time in her life she’d needed him more than any other, and he’d walked, incapable of finding the internal strength to be her rock. Pathetic. She hadn’t seen him since.

She couldn’t imagine Kell doing that. Ever. It was there in everything he did. The responsibility he took. The concern he showed. The way he talked about his brothers with such fondness, about his parents with such respect. His intelligence, his sense of humor, she loved it all.

She loved him.

She sank to her haunches, burying her face in her hands. Water pelted her back, stinging. Yes, she’d known him but a handful of days. Tomorrow would be a week. He’d come to her rescue. But this wasn’t that. She swore it wasn’t that. She was not infatuated with the man who had saved her.

She was in love with the man who’d walked into the clinic, a gun at his hip and a glint in his eye. The man who was everything she wanted in a partner, one she’d thought her circumstances would deny her. Kell had laid her worries to rest, telling her he wasn’t scared, he wasn’t running away. And he’d said it as a man, not as a Texas Ranger.

It had to be enough for now. And it was, she thought, making herself leave the enclosure before he came looking to see if she’d dissolved down the drain. She was not going to push him, or pry to see what she could get him to divulge of his feelings. At least not until they were beyond this nightmare and could see the light of day.

Once dressed, she headed for the kitchen that was really just an alcove off the main room and part of the dining area. Kell sat at the table there, his jeans again caught up in the tops of his boots, though he now wore a chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms, the khaki setting off the color the sun had left on his skin.

When he realized she had stopped to stare, he looked up. And he smiled, with his mouth, with his eyes, with what looked like his heart. “Ready to eat?”

She nodded, swallowed. Her voice had to be here somewhere. “I’ll fix something. You’ve got work.”

“There are staples in the cupboard, and the fresh stuff isn’t fancy.”

She pulled open the refrigerator door to see what her mother had packed them. Ground beef, sandwich meats, hot dogs, chicken breasts. There was bread and buns and condiments. “Burgers okay?”

“Sure. You want me to light a fire in the grill?” He scooted back his chair, but stayed put. “Or there’s an iron skillet if you’d rather brown ’em on the stove.”

She’d rather he not make her think about cooking for him for the rest of their lives. Not now. Not yet. “You work. I’ll cook. It’s the nature of things.”

He laughed then, a gusty blast of sound that curled her toes. He’d brought this into her life, too. Laughter that was hale and hearty and male, and made her long to jump into his arms and hug him. Instead, she reached for one of the pounds of ground beef wrapped in butcher paper and tossed it onto the countertop. It landed with a thud.

“Anything new on the case?” she asked, squatting to find the iron skillet in the cabinet next to the stove. It was just dusty enough that she cleaned it before setting it on the gas burner to heat. And in the pantry beside the back door, she found a lazy Susan with spices—salt, pepper, garlic and chili powder for an extra kick.

She unrolled the package of meat, seasoned it, formed one larger and one smaller patty, then set them in the skillet to sizzle. Only when she returned to the fridge for lettuce, onion, mayo, mustard and tomato, did she realize Kell hadn’t answered. She glanced over to find him staring, his expression caught between a frown and apprehension.

Uh-oh. “Kell?”

“Neither the car nor the suspect have been located, no.” He turned his attention back to his laptop screen, but it was too late. There was something he didn’t want her to know and she’d seen it there, the worry, the misgiving.

Double uh-oh. “But?”

Groaning his reluctance, he scrubbed his hands over his face before he pushed to his feet and came toward her, decision made. She found herself backing closer to the stove, bumping the skillet with her elbow.

“Watch it,” Kell said, finding a spatula and flipping the meat while Jamie looked on.

What wasn’t he telling her? “Kell, tell me.”

“After lunch. Okay?”

Her stomach lurched, rattled. “Something’s happened. What is it?”

“Nothing’s happened. Not yet.” He reached for a knife and the onion.

Meaning it was going to. And he knew it was going to. What had he done? And what hadn’t he told her? She watched as he sliced the onion, dropping the rings into the grease from the burgers to brown.

Why not? What was a heart attack going to hurt when the killer caught up with her? She breathed deeply, searching for calm, finding a gnawing hunger instead. Her stomach growled. That didn’t mean she was waiting till after lunch to find out what he was keeping from her.

“Kell? What do you think is going to happen? And when?”

Kell chuckled as he stirred the onions.

“What’s so funny?”

“I am. Thinking you wouldn’t want answers now. That you wouldn’t figure out I had something up my sleeve.”

“So? Talk,” she said, using his knife to slice up half of the tomato, finding plastic wrap and storing the rest.

“You said something this morning about being able to see the killer coming—”

“He’s coming here, isn’t he?” The possibility slammed her so hard she almost doubled over. “To finish what he started ten years ago, right? And I’m not safe here at all.”

Kell set down the spatula and placed his hands on her shoulders, then slid them up to cup her face “You’re safe. One hundred percent safe. But I’m not so sure I am with the way you’re gripping that knife.”

What was he saying? A knife? God, oh, yes. God. “Sorry.” Her hand shaking, she set it down on the counter. “I guess I was thinking I might need a weapon.”

“Yeah. Saw that in your eyes.” He let her go then, though reluctantly, as if not quite certain she was steady—she saw that in
his
eyes—then served up the burger patties onto paper towels to drain, and shut off the fire beneath.

She didn’t care what he said. She wasn’t going to wait until after lunch for the rest of the story. “Is he coming here or not, Kell? Tell me that much at least.”

“If he does, we’ll be ready for him,” he told her staunchly.

That wasn’t an answer. And what was this “we” business anyhow? “What are you talking about? How are you and I going to be ready when he took out four of my friends in the blink of an eye?”

And then she got it. By we, Kell wasn’t talking about the two of them. “Who’s going to be ready? Who else knows where we are? Does he know? Did he find out? Is that what you’re not telling me?”

Kell had been loading plates with buns and meat and vegetables, and carrying them along with utensils and the squeeze bottles of mayonnaise and mustard to the table all the while Jamie had stood frozen. Now he took her by the hand and led her to eat.

Once they were seated, Kell continued. “This morning on the dock, you said something about being able to see him coming. It had me going back over all the precautions I’d taken in deciding to bring you here.”

They’d driven back roads, a route that had taken twice as long as she assumed the trip normally took. Troopers had followed them to make sure no one else did. Even her mother had no idea where they were. But at least Jamie knew her mom was safe. She had her own set of bodyguards.

Jamie imagined Kell’s contact person with the DPS knew; they’d have to stay in touch, after all. Or someone at the ranger station might need to know…Her eyes went wide and her whole chest tightened as she met Kell’s gaze over the burger he’d lifted to bite.

“The leak,” she said. “If there is a leak in your office, if that’s how he found me in Weldon, then the killer knows where we are.”

Kell shook his head, set down his burger and headed back to the kitchen for a roll of paper towels. Once he returned, he did his best to set her at ease. “Yes and no. Right now, Norm Greenley is the only one who knows where we are, though obviously, anyone with the capability and access can trace the GPS in my phone or the SUV.”

This was not good. “Who has the capability and access?”

“For starters, the techs who monitor the various software programs.”

Techs. Oh, God. “Like the one who recorded my hypnosis session?”

Kell nodded, bit into his burger again, chewed. “Megan Holly’s only been in the office three years. She transferred in from the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. We’re not ruling her out, but she’s not the most likely suspect.”

There was that royal “we” again. Jamie twisted her hands in her lap. “Who is the most likely? And who is ‘we’?”

“Me and Greenley are the we. And as far as suspects, there’s a male tech, Hispanic, who’s been in the department since 1995. He was born here, but has family in Mexico. In particular, a half brother who’s been in and out of jail for petty offenses most of his life.”

Oh God. “You found that out today?”

Kell nodded. “I phoned Greenley while you were showering. He took my theory and ran with it. Did a background check on Vargas when his jacket turned up the brother’s sheet.”

Fast work. “So you did what? Put out a warrant or APB or whatever on the brother?

“Not exactly,” Kell said, filling his mouth with another huge bite that made talking impossible. As a delay tactic, it worked.

Frustrated, Jamie figured she might as well put her own burger together before the beef and sautéed onions got too cold to enjoy. If she had it in her to enjoy anything anymore, which she doubted. Still, she had a feeling she was going to need her strength.

“Then what exactly did you do?” she asked, using the last of the tomato slices, skipping the lettuce, and going light on the mayo and onions. Her stomach grumbled. The food really did smell good.

“Greenley had Vargas track my SUV,” he said, completely matter-of-factly.

Jamie took a bite of her burger. She’d known where this was going since she’d first mentioned the leak. And once she’d recovered from the initial shock of fearing the killer was coming, she’d braced herself for the worst—that he was.

Of course, it had never occurred to her that Kell would send him an engraved invitation, which seemed to be what he and Greenley had done. She tried not to sigh. Or scream. “Since the troopers followed us here, wouldn’t Greenley’s request raise a red flag? I mean, why would Greenley need the location of your SUV from Vargas when he knows where it is?”

“Vargas has no idea about the troopers. No reason he would, unless they told him. Since they’re not based in Midland and most likely don’t know him, there wouldn’t be, so no red flag.” Kell pushed away from the table and returned to the kitchen again, this time for two cans of soda.

“That still doesn’t explain why Greenley would want your location when he knows exactly where you are,” she said as Kell sat and scooted his chair back into place. She reached for her soda and popped the top, knowing she should trust him to do his job. But this was her life. She needed more than a pat on the head. “I can’t see how his request wouldn’t set off warning bells for Vargas, if he’s really the leak.”

His burger on his plate, his wrists against the table’s edge, Kell leaned forward, his gaze catching hers and holding it tight. “What he’s told Vargas is to watch for movement. We have no reason to go anywhere. So if the killer shows up and demands we drive to a more remote location, say, some out-of-the-way place like the spot he took Kass Duren, Vargas will be watching and know something’s wrong.”

And ostensibly report back to Greenley…or if he wanted to give his brother time to make his escape, maybe not. “What if the killer shows up and just shoots us in the head? Leaves the SUV where it is? Or makes us drive his car?”

“It’s a ploy, sweetheart,” Kell told her. “That’s all. To make sure Vargas gives us up to his brother.”

Okay, she was definitely not cut out for this cat-and-mouse stuff. “He won’t know that?”

“No reason he should. He’ll just think he’s doing his job, following Greenley’s orders. As long as he’s been in the department, he’ll understand Greenley’s hedging against every move the suspect might make, no matter how far a reach.”

It sounded reasonable, she supposed. Except…“You don’t know for sure his brother is the killer. Or that Vargas is the leak.”