Blame It on Texas (11 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Z
OE LAY STILL
, her eyes closed, her hand pressed over her arm. It was nothing more than a big scratch—she’d checked—but it burned like the dickens, and the thought that she’d been shot was enough to make her have a meltdown. Okay, another meltdown. She’d already lost it when she’d seen the picture of her… mom. This was turning out to be a pretty piss-poor, meltdown kind of day.

“Zoe. Talk to me.” She heard his voice at the same time she felt him lifting her shirt.

She grabbed her shirt to stop him from pulling it up over her bra—she hadn’t even worn her best one—and opened her eyes.

“Let me see!” he growled.

She had her mind on her bra, but she realized he meant her wound. At least she hoped he did. “It’s here.” She looked at her arm and saw the blood and put her hand over it.

He set the gun down on the floor and carefully moved her hand and peeled up her bloody sleeve. “I’ll get you to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” She lifted up on her elbow and looked at
her arm. Maybe she had missed something. But nope. It was still just a scratch, not that it felt like it at this point.

“It wouldn’t even take a stitch.”

“You were shot.”

“I was scratched by a bullet. There’s a difference.” Hearing herself put it like that made her feel better. Her pulse seemed to inch down a notch, too.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

“I think you bleed when you’re scratched by a bullet,” she said. “Seriously, it’s just a scratch.”

He stared at her arm and then back at her face as if debating whether to throw her over his shoulder and cart her out. Hoping to prove she was okay, she sat up.

“Are you afraid of doctors?” he asked.

“No, that’s not on my phobia list. Not that I don’t have a few… but at this moment, I’m afraid of my two-hundred-dollar deductible.”

He gave her one of those girls-are-so-dumb looks that would have been more appropriate on a young boy. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t think so.” When he didn’t look convinced, she added, “I’m fine. It feels more like a burn than a scratch. I have some antibiotic cream and Band-Aids.” She looked at the window and her concern shifted. “Are they gone?”

“I think so.” He continued to stare at her arm. “But I believe you need to be checked by a doctor.”

“And I believe I’m fine. It’s only going to take one Band-Aid and not even the biggest one in the pack.”

“LeAnn,” he said.

“My name’s Zoe,” she countered.

“I know. LeAnn’s a nurse, and she can look at it and tell us if you need to be seen by a doctor.”

Before she could argue, he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Is LeAnn with you guys?”

Pause.

“Good.” Tyler kept it brief and told the barest of details. Address, bullets, her being shot, needing to be checked. “Tell her I’ll kiss her for it.”

Who was LeAnn? His wife?

Her gaze darted to his left hand. No ring.

He continued, “Yeah. I heard him drive off. See you in about twenty.” He hung up and looked at her. “I know that hurts.”

“I can hardly feel it.” And it wasn’t as big of a lie as it had been earlier. The scratch had stopped burning like hell and was now only burning like purgatory. Not that she knew a heck of a lot about purgatory; she’d been raised Baptist. Then again, she’d also been raised to believe she was the daughter of Mildred and Ralph Adams. The thought that they had lied to her rang another painful bell inside her heart.

She took a deep breath. “I guess he really meant it, huh?”

“Who meant what?” he asked.

She grimaced. “I got another phone call. They said I had to leave or I’d die. Not that I’m dead… yet.” This was so not a good day.

His brows tightened. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?”

She wasn’t fond of being scolded. “Between finding you pointing a gun at me, to”—she motioned to the book on the table—“seeing the picture, then being shot at, it sort of slipped my mind.”

There was also the whole God-he-looks-sexy-without-his-shirt issue, but she decided to let that one go unsaid.
Because it wasn’t going to be an issue. He had LeAnn. And she had a list of reasons not to let herself consider getting involved with the opposite sex.

“It shouldn’t have slipped your mind,” he growled.

“Live and learn,” she said.

“Or die and wish you had,” he snapped. “What else did he say?”

“That pretty much covers it.” She frowned.

He frowned back at her. “I need to go outside and check to see if anyone saw anything. Then we’re going to go see LeAnn. Are you okay for a few minutes alone?”

“I’m fine.” She stood up to show him she meant it. Alone wasn’t a problem. She’d been alone for a long time. Well, not completely alone. She had Lucky. Glancing back, she saw the cat standing in the bedroom doorway, hesitant to come out. Then she glanced again at the windows, and her pulse started to race a little faster. She could have been killed. “I’m good,” she lied.

“We’ll leave in a few minutes. Get anything you might need for a few days. Austin will be here in about ten minutes, and we’ll call the cops to come out and do a report.”

She barely heard anything he said past… “A few days?”

“You can’t stay here,” he said. “Unless you want whoever did this to come back and finish what he started.”

“But…”

“I have a place you can stay. A safe house,” he added rather quickly. Too quickly.

What was he not telling her? The need to be logical battled with her need to just give in to the fear swelling in her chest. “Is it covered in the cost of your regular services? Or is it extra? Because I’m definitely going with the basic, low-budget PI package here.”

“It’s included.”

Her gaze went to the shot-up windows; fear fluttered in her stomach like birds needing to escape, and she decided not to argue. “Okay, but I have a cat.”

“The cat can come.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll just be outside, so don’t panic.”

“I’m not panicking.” She saw his disbelief. “Not anymore.”

He nodded and left—bloody T-shirt and all.

She darted to the bathroom to swallow three extra-strength pain relievers. “I’m fine,” she said to herself. And then she bit down on her lip and stared at her image in the bathroom mirror. Now that she didn’t have anyone to put up a front for, she could admit that being scratched by a bullet wasn’t for wimps. And right now, she was feeling a tad wimpy.

Tyler checked out the street—empty. He replayed in his mind those seconds before the bullets had ricocheted through Zoe’s apartment.

There hadn’t been a blast. The first thing he’d heard was the shattering of glass.

Someone used a silencer.

He added a few more inquiries to his mental list of questions and then got busy trying to find someone who could answer a few of them.

Four apartments later, he approached the last door. Most of the neighbors, possible criminals themselves, had nothing to report. Two were pissed that Tyler interrupted their Sunday siestas.

But at the last apartment, a Hispanic grandmotherly type opened the door. He gave her the spiel about Apartment
Four having been sprayed with bullets. The woman’s breath caught. Her gaze lowered to the front of his T-shirt.
“Dios.”
She crossed herself. “Are you okay? Is Zoe okay? I can call nine-one-one.”

“Everything is fine.” The mouthwatering aromas wafting from behind the door told Tyler that the plate of food that Zoe had tossed at him had come from here. “Loved the chicken enchiladas,” he said.

The fear faded from her aged eyes. “You are someone special to Zoe?”

He considered it for about a fraction of a second.
“Si.”
He was someone special. He was the one who was going to make sure whoever tried to hurt her didn’t succeed.

A couple of minutes later, he stood on Zoe’s front porch, staring at the holes in her windows when he saw Austin walk up.

“What kind of shit did you fall into?” he asked.

“You got here fast,” Tyler said.

“I was just off of I-Ten when Dallas called. What’s up?” His partner’s eyes dropped to the front of his T-shirt, and he flinched. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t the one hit.”

“The redhead?” Austin grimaced.

“Yeah, just grazed. I’m taking her to see LeAnn. Dallas told you about her?”

“Yeah, it’s not every day that a man finds a redhead on her hands and knees under his desk.” He grinned with a spark of interest in his eyes.

That spark pissed Tyler off. The words
she’s mine
almost slipped from his lips, but he held them back, knowing they sounded juvenile. “Did Dallas tell you what it’s about?” he asked.

“Yeah. Do you really think she’s the Bradford kid risen from the dead?”

“I think she looks so much like Nancy Bradford that she could be her twin. She’s been getting threatening phone calls telling her to leave town, and now this. Somebody doesn’t want her here.”

Austin considered him for a moment and then grinned. “You must be in hog heaven.”

“Why?” Tyler asked, thinking it had to do with Zoe being beautiful.

“You always love a mystery. I’ll bet you’ve already got a list of questions going.”

“And it’s getting longer.” He pointed to the holes in the glass again. “Do you think they were aiming that high for a reason?”

“Could be they weren’t looking to kill her,” Austin said. “Just shake her up.”

“They succeeded.” A surge of protectiveness stiffened Tyler’s shoulders.

“You didn’t see the shooter?”

“No.” He’d been too busy rolling around on the floor with her. He remembered how she’d felt stretched out on top of him, too. The way her hair had shifted like silk across his chest. Then he thought about the way he’d felt on top of her, with her legs wrapped around his waist and the way he’d fit so well between her legs.

“Neighbors see anyone?” Austin asked.

Tyler pushed the beginning of his physical awareness from his mind. “The shooter used a silencer. Doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have seen him, though. I’ve checked these four units. Got nothing.”

“Has it been called in yet?”

“Not unless the neighbors did it.” Tyler looked back toward the street. “I’d kind of like to get her out of here so she doesn’t have to be interrogated just yet. I’m not sure I want any of the details leaked to the press yet.”

Austin looked around. “Chances are no one called. From the looks of things, a little gunfire is not that uncommon around here.”

“Do you want to call it in?” Austin asked.

Tyler contemplated it. “Yeah, we might need it on the record.”

Austin nodded. “Why is a pretty redhead living in a dump like this anyway?”

“I think she’s low on cash.”

“She could lose more than cash living here,” Austin said, confirming exactly what Tyler had thought. “I can call it in and hang out until they show up if you want to skip out with her.”

Tyler nodded. “Thanks.” He looked in the window to see if he could spot Zoe to make sure she wasn’t panicking. She must have been in the bedroom.

He recalled how upset she’d been seeing Nancy Bradford’s picture, and then being shot at and hit by a stray bullet. Hell, it was amazing she hadn’t locked herself in a closet and cried her eyes out. That was what his sisters did when they had a bad day.

“I’m not doing it for you,” Austin said. “I just love showing myself to all our fellow officers who looked the other way when they let the system take us down.”

Tyler glanced at Austin. “Don’t go starting trouble.”

“Hey… dishing out a little comeuppance is good for the soul.”

Tyler completely understood. There were still a few
guys on the Glencoe force to whom he’d like to offer some comeuppance. Cops and co-workers he’d considered friends, who as soon at the rumors had started flying wouldn’t look him in the eye. Even after having his life back for over a year, the sting of their betrayal hadn’t gone away.

He doubted it ever would.

“How are we playing it?” Austin asked. “We’re keeping the Bradfords completely out of it now, right?”

“For now.” Tyler looked back in the window and saw Zoe walking the hall into the bedroom.

Austin spotted her, too. “Damn. No wonder we’re taking the case.”

Tyler’s frown came from deep in his gut. “Back off,” he said, no longer caring if he sounded juvenile.

“You ready?”

Zoe jumped at the sound of his voice. With the water pipes playing their groan-and-moan song, she hadn’t heard him approach the door. Now with a toothbrush working on her back molars, a mouthful of minty-tasting toothpaste foaming out the corners of her mouth and dripping onto her chin, she answered, “Juss bout.” She talked around the brush, but did a poor job of it.

She pulled the toothbrush out of her mouth, spit, rinsed, and then wiped toothpaste dribble from her face. She’d never considered brushing her teeth as intimate, but it felt that way as he leaned his sexy self against the door frame, watching her. The feeling reminded her of a morning-after kind of thing. Problem was she hadn’t gotten to enjoy the night. Of course, they’d rolled around on the floor while he conversed about positions. She cut her
eyes to the clean shirt she’d put on to make sure she hadn’t bled out from under the Band-Aid. She hadn’t.

Looking up, she caught her reflection in the mirror and noticed her hair flipping in about six different directions. She grabbed a clip from the drawer. With a quick twist through her hair, she fastened it on her head.

When she glanced at him, he frowned. “I like it down better.”

A retort lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. He was helping her find the answers she’d been seeking all her life. What’s more, he was willing to work out a payment plan—even let her stay at the company’s safe house. It sounded too good to be true. And that scared her.

Just trust him
, she told herself.
It’s blind trust
, her inner voice warned.

“I need to grab a couple of things.” She waited for him to move back.

He took one small step, and she squeezed past him, then ducked into her bedroom. Grabbing her overnight bag in one hand, her purse in the other.