DEAD BY WEDNESDAY (20 page)
When he was satisfied they were alone and there was nothing
immediate for him to find, he hurried back to the living room and met Lyla’s
glare. It was worse than the other one she’d aimed at him.
“Jonah Webb,” she repeated. “He was the man from the orphanage
who was murdered years ago.”
Sixteen and a half, to be exact.
She studied his face. Then his badge. “You’re one of the
marshals who were raised at the orphanage.” Again, he couldn’t be sure if her
surprised tone was fake or not.
“Rocky Creek Children’s Facility,” he supplied.
He tried not to go back to those bitter memories. Failed.
Always failed. But bad memories weren’t going to stop him from doing his job.
Wyatt went back to the center of the living room so he could keep watch to see
what the bozo with the gun was going to do.
“Webb’s body was found, what, about six months ago?” she
asked.
“Eight. The Rangers are still investigating it.” He paused, to
try to figure out if this was old news to her, but he couldn’t tell. “Webb’s
wife, Sarah, confessed to the murder, but she had an accomplice. Unfortunately,
she wasn’t able to say who her accomplice was, because she’s in a coma.”
And Sarah had been that way since she’d tried to kill his
brother Dallas and Dallas’s wife, Joelle. Dallas had had to shoot the woman, and
she’d been in a coma ever since.
“Your foster father is a suspect,” Lyla whispered. “I remember
reading that in one of the reports.”
Yeah. Kirby Granger was indeed that. And worse, he might have
actually done it, though Wyatt never intended to admit that aloud.
Not to her.
Not to anyone.
Especially if it turned out that Lyla Pearson was living proof
that Kirby was not just innocent but that someone else was willing to do pretty
much anything to cover their own guilt.
“You’re a suspect, too,” Lyla added. Her breathing kicked up a
notch, and she got to a crouching position. Maybe because she was just now
realizing she could be in danger—from him. Heck, she might even be thinking of
running.
Wyatt nodded, watching both her and the window.
She blinked, and he saw the doubt in her eyes. Lyla shifted her
position again. Oh, yeah. Definitely planning to run.
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” he said. “But I suspect you
know a lot more than you’re saying.”
The remark had no sooner left his mouth when Lyla leaped to her
feet and started toward the hall. Probably to get the .38 that was somewhere in
her bedroom. Wyatt hadn’t seen the gun, but he figured it must be in the
house.
Wyatt latched on to her, trying to stay gentle, but it was hard
to do when she brought up her knee to ram into his groin. He had no choice but
to drag her to the sofa and pin her body with his.
It didn’t put him in the best of positions. He could no longer
see the window or the gunman, but it stopped her from getting away.
Lyla frantically shook her head and tried to punch him. “Why
are you doing this?”
He dodged her fist, barely. “Why are
you
doing this?” And Wyatt dropped his gaze to her stomach.
“I don’t understand.” The words rushed out with her breath.
Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t. But Wyatt decided to test a
theory or two. “I think you got pregnant so you could manipulate this
investigation.”
She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “My baby has
nothing to do with Jonah Webb’s murder.”
“You sure about that?” he countered.
“Positive,” Lyla mumbled, but there it was. The doubt that slid
through those intense brown eyes. “Why would it? Why would my baby have anything
to do with this?”
Wyatt took a deep breath. Had to. “Because that baby is
mine.”
Copyright © 2014 by Delores Fossen
ISBN-13: 9781460324431
DEAD BY WEDNESDAY
Copyright © 2014 by Beverly R. Long
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