Shut Up and Kiss Me (14 page)

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Authors: Christie Craig

BOOK: Shut Up and Kiss Me
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He didn’t waste time on idle chitchat. “You got it closed off? Where’s Ricardo?”

“He’s up there checking out the crime scene. It’s ugly. Lots of blood. But yeah, we got it shut off.”

That was Jessie’s blood all over the hotel room. Sky’s gut clenched. He let out a deep breath and said, “Do me a favor. Keep your eye on this truck. Shala Winters is in there with Maria. If this creep is still around, he might go after her.”

“You got it.” As Sky started to turn away, Pete added,
“Hey, you think this is going to end up a murder case?” He actually sounded excited.

Sky clenched his fist. It would have felt damn good to let loose on Pete, but deep down he knew the person who deserved to be on the receiving end of his fury was the guy who pulled the trigger. Besides, Pete lived in the next town over. He didn’t know Jessie. To him, this was just another case. “I don’t know.”

“You calling the rangers to do the crime scene?”

“Yes.” He didn’t like the idea, not even when the ranger he’d call was a friend, but Sky knew his limitations. He couldn’t do around-the-clock protection of Shala and also work this case correctly. And this creep needed to get caught. Not that he planned to stop working the case.

“Hey,” Pete said, motioning. “Is it true that Shala Winters is a sight to behold?”

“Just watch the friggin’ truck!” And Sky left before the man earned himself a black eye.

As he walked up to the hotel room, he pulled out his phone and called Lucas. “Hey, I need you to come over to the hotel,” he said when his neighbor answered. “Like, now.”

“What’s going on?”

“I need you to keep something safe for me.” He gave Lucas the lowdown on the camera and on Jessie’s getting shot, then he hung up and made his next call. Part of him hated doing it, knowing he’d lose most of his control on the case, but damn it, a smart man knew when he needed a hand. Sky needed help.

Phillip Freeman, senior captain for the San Antonio department of the Texas Rangers, answered on the third ring. “It’s good to see your number on my phone. You planning another poker game?” he asked.

“This is business.”

“Damn. You know I hate business.”

“We got trouble in town.”

“Someone run your traffic light?” he teased.

“There’s been a shooting,” Sky replied in total seriousness.

“Okay, let me make it easy for you. If the person is married, look at the spouse. Marriage makes people want to kill each other. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d kill my ex-wife.”

“It’s not like that.” Sky bypassed Ricardo and entered Shala’s hotel room. The blood on the wall had his gut in knots. “And it’s someone I know.”

“Sorry. Was it a murder?”

Sky closed his eyes. “The victim is in the operating room. From what I heard, it could go either way.” From all the blood, Sky was afraid to hope.

“Do you have a suspect?”

“This is where it gets weird.” Sky filled him in on Shala and the camera.

“Damn, you got a mystery on your hands!” Philip sounded glad to help. “Just tell me what you need, and you got it.”

“For starters, I need someone to do the crime scene.”

“It will take me a few hours to get the van and my people there. I’ll give you a call when I get close. You can meet me.”

“Yeah. I’ll be at the hospital.”

“Sky,” Philip said, “be careful. If this guy’s shot one person, he won’t hesitate to shoot another.” His big-city friend sounded worried.

“Believe it or not, Phil,” Sky said, “I figured that one out myself.”

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

“Open your eyes and tell me you’re okay, you stubborn old Indian.”

Redfoot felt a soft, feminine palm against his face, and his first thought was of Estella. When he opened his eyes, he found Veronica.

“Oh, my. Your eyes are both black.”

Redfoot’s pride cried out,
You should see the other guy!
But that was a lie, so instead he said nothing and just looked at her. He took in her soft brown eyes, concern swirling in their watery sheen, and right then he knew that although Veronica would never take Estella’s place, somehow his heart had grown her a separate location. She belonged there. She belonged with him. Now, if he could just convince her of that.

He understood that her husband had been gone only two years, but two years was a long time to be lonely. And while Veronica swore that her reservations were because of her children, sometimes Redfoot wondered. If rumors were true, she had reasons not ever to commit herself fully to another man. But for several months now, she had given him her body. Now he wanted more. He wanted her to stand beside him, not just lie with him a few nights a week. He wanted her heart. And he was tired of keeping their relationship secret from his family and friends.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m not okay,” Redfoot answered. “I had plans last night to be with a beautiful woman, and instead I had to sleep alone in a cold hospital bed.”

She grinned, but it faded. “I didn’t hear until this morning. I waited for you last night.”

But she hadn’t called. He knew, because after Maria left last night he’d checked his messages. The reason she hadn’t called was probably because she was afraid Maria would answer. Afraid someone would discover they were seeing each other.

He patted the bed. “Lie beside me and remind me what I missed.” He gave her hand a tug, but she resisted.

“There’s not enough room.”

“I’ll make room.”

She grinned like a schoolgirl. The bright blue of her blouse made her look young, as did the scoop neck that hinted at her figure. For a woman her age, she had beautiful breasts. Redfoot stared at the tiny buttons—at least ten—that held the blouse together. His mind created the image of her taking it off.

“You are a crazy man. What if someone comes in and catches me in bed with you?”

“Then I’ll smile really big and pretend we were just resting.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know I can’t.”

He frowned. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to think you are ashamed to be seen with me.”

“I’m not ashamed!”

“Then why don’t you want anyone to know about us?”

She took a step away. “We’ve discussed this, Redfoot. I just…I can’t.”

“I mean so little to you.”

She moved back toward the bed. “No. I care for you. More than I should. It’s my children.”

“Your children are not in this hospital, Veronica,” he pointed out. “As a matter of fact, when I look around, I see only us.”

He patted the bed again.

Shala sat in the waiting room, her hands in her lap, watching everyone pace. Over a dozen individuals had shown up, a mix of family and friends. Jessie, obviously loved by many, was in surgery. Shala had heard someone say it was touch-and-go. Tears filled everyone’s eyes. Even Shala’s eyes burned.

Having fought off the sorrow, Shala now tried to breathe through her mouth so that the hospital smell wouldn’t get inside her senses and start messing with her head, wouldn’t take her back to the past. Whenever she felt panic inch closer, she told herself to grow up. This wasn’t about her; this was about a woman who’d been shot in part because of something Shala had done—even if that something was taking an unintentionally wrong picture. It was still her fault.

She also knew that if it had been her in that hotel room, it would have been her in that operating room. This waiting room would be empty—no friends, no family close enough to show up. Her gaze moved around the crowd and she wondered what it would feel like to have so many people in her life.

She heard her name. When she looked up, Maria waved. Someone must have asked who she was. Suddenly Shala felt as if she didn’t belong here. She was a stranger, the outsider to everyone but Sky. Closing her eyes, she recalled arguing with him about staying at the hotel. His pigheaded demand had probably saved her life.

Opening her eyes, Shala looked for him. When he’d returned from the crime scene, he hadn’t said a word. Shala surmised it had been emotionally difficult. Coming here wasn’t an easy feat, either.

She’d watched him flutter from person to person. He’d approached the most anxious people, touching them, offering words of comfort. Whenever anyone extended him the same courtesy, he pulled away. No, Chief Sky Gomez could give comfort, but he couldn’t accept it. Was it just for professional appearances, or was there something more?

She remembered how Sky had approached Sal when they’d first come into the hospital. Sky had worn guilt like a second skin. Sal, with tears in his eyes, had shaken his head, and while Shala couldn’t be sure, she felt certain no blame had been assigned. Remembering Sky’s past, the newspaper article in that box at his house, that ten-year-old Sky struggling against the firefighter’s hold, it somehow made sense that Sky would want to save other people because he hadn’t been able to save his parents. She wondered if he somehow blamed himself for their deaths.

While her own past had left Shala with a boatload of emotional issues, guilt wasn’t one of them. The fault lay in the hands of a drunk driver. Nana had made sure Shala and her brother understood. Shala could still remember how, less than a week after her parents’ funeral, her grandmother had marched her and her brother into a courtroom. They’d faced the drunk driver and the judge, and guilt had been clear. If not for Nana, there was no telling how much more of a basket case she and her brother would have been.

It occurred to Shala that Sky had gone into the foster program, which meant Sky hadn’t had a grandmother. He hadn’t had anyone to ease the transition from loved child to orphan. She couldn’t fathom dealing with her parents’ deaths and also a relocation to a home with strangers at the same time. Empathy for Sky filled her chest as she searched the crowd again, wanting to make sure he was okay. He wasn’t there. Had probably stepped outside to take another call. She’d heard his cell ring at least four times since they arrived.

Leaning back in her chair, she stretched her neck, hoping to relieve some of the tension building in her shoulders. The sound of the intercom calling for a doctor filled her ears. Shala closed her eyes, and instead of thinking about her past, or even Sky’s past, she tried to remember the different photographs she’d taken in the last few
days. What could she have caught on film that had brought this on?

Someone’s hand moved between her tightened palms. She popped her eyes open. Sky sat in the empty chair next to her. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, and she had to fight to keep from hugging him. Not so much to hug the stubborn and difficult man he’d grown to be, but the boy she knew he’d been.

He stared at her, looking almost as guilty as when he’d faced Sal. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Christ. I completely forgot.” He took her left hand in his.

“Forgot what?”

“Your aversion to hospitals. You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He ran a finger over her cheek. “No, you’re not. Come on, let’s take a walk.”

Pulling her up, he laced his fingers through hers and led her across the room. Shala didn’t have any will to deny him the touch. Not just because she needed it, but because she felt he needed it, too.

Jose lay in bed, fighting his headache and berating himself for everything he’d done since he crossed the Precious city line. When he heard Sky and the others leave, he picked himself up and went in search of a pain reliever and clothes.

He found some aspirin in the cabinet and a box of his old clothes in a closet. The jeans felt a little loose; he’d obviously lost a few pounds living the city lifestyle. The room in his jeans was a good thing, since he’d be going commando. There’d been no underwear in the boxed clothes, but that wasn’t altogether a bad thing, because he had at least seven fire-ant blisters on his family jewels.

Finally armed with clothes that weren’t pink, feminine, and didn’t smell like Maria, he almost felt human. Almost. Sitting down to make a few calls, he rang the hospital to check with the nurses about his dad. Next, he
contacted his insurance company, and then Ramon’s Service and Wrecking Company. Ramon was an old high-school buddy from a few houses down who now owned and ran one of the two mechanic shops in town.

Sky had already called and asked them to bring in Jose’s car. Leave it to Sky to take care of things. Jose knew he should be appreciative—and damn it, he was—but his foster brother’s ability to always do the right thing made him feel inadequate.

“Who’s going to be driving the wrecker?” Jose asked.

Ramon paused. “I am, as soon as my other employee comes in.”

“Is there any way you could swing by Dad’s place and give me a lift to the hospital?”

“You bet,” Ramon said. “How is Redfoot? Mom told me this morning that he caught some guy breaking in and got hurt.”

“Yeah. According to the nurses on his floor, he’s doing fine. They said he’ll probably come home today.” Jose had yet to actually talk to his dad, preferring to do that in person. He knew he was procrastinating, but his dad never failed to mention his moving back home, and Jose never failed to feel guilty. With Redfoot hurt, his guilt would reach new heights.

“I’m glad he’s okay. I’m sure Sky is going to catch the bastard.”

Jose pressed a hand to his throbbing temple. “Yeah, that’s Sky for you.”

“Did you hear about Jessie getting shot?” Ramon asked. “You know Sal and she got married last year. He’s crazy about her, too. I know he’s in a world of hurt right now.”

Jose remembered her. She’d always been vibrant. “Didn’t know they got married, but I heard about the shooting. I hope she’s okay.”

“Me, too. I just can’t believe this shit is happening here. Did you bring some of that big-city crime with you?”

“I hope not.” Jose’s mind shifted gears, and he wondered about the blonde with Sky. Who was she? He’d made a complete jackass of himself in front of her. Reaching up, he touched his nose. Damn, she could kick. “Hey, is Sky seeing anyone?” he asked. “He was here this morning with a blonde.”

Ramon’s laugh spilled out of the phone receiver. “Funny you ask. My sister dropped by this morning with a wild-ass story about him staying at Sal’s hotel with the tourism specialist that’s in town—the one Redfoot claims is his soul mate. Not that I blame Sky for going after her. She’s wet-dream material. I saw her at the powwow. She brought her camera in and took a picture, and Sky yanked it right out of her hands. Then, damn it, he goes and gets lucky with her!”

“Sky’s soul mate?” Jose scoffed. “He beds and leaves ’em.”

“Yeah. Though from what my sister said, he’s got a problem with the bedding part. Supposedly he was talking to the blonde about erectile dysfunction.”

“Sky?”
Jose chuckled. Was it terrible of him to take pleasure in the almighty Police Chief Gomez having trouble getting it up? Yeah, it was terrible, but it soothed his ego just a bit.

“Yeah, Sky. But you know how those rumors go. It probably doesn’t have a lick of truth. Next we’ll hear he’s into cross-dressing.”

No, that will be me,
Jose thought dispiritedly.

“Hey, Jimmy’s here. I’ll be over there in about ten minutes.”

Jose hung up the phone and went to collect Maria’s robe to toss in the washer. It was the least he could do. But when he walked by her room, he stopped and stared at the bed. He recalled how she’d looked last night: soft, sexy, unchanged.

But no. She had changed. She used to look at him with so much affection. Damn it, he still loved her. Was she
serious about this new guy? Did he stand a chance of winning her back? Hell, was winning her back even the right thing? Had two years changed anything? Was she still determined to stay in Precious? He was still determined to leave.

Wasn’t he?

Sky, his heart swimming in guilt, entered the elevator with Shala. How in God’s name had he forgotten her issue with hospitals? Sure, he had a hundred things on his mind, but if anyone could understand how difficult this was for her, it was him. To this day, the smell of smoke turned him inside out.

The doors to the elevator closed and low classical music filled the space. He recalled seeing Shala sitting there in that chair, apart from everyone else, and again he’d been hit by her vulnerability—and by his need to make it disappear.

He gave her good hand a squeeze, hoping she understood she wasn’t alone. “Seriously, I’m sorry. I should have remembered.”

She stepped in front of him and rested her hand on his chest. The touch, completely innocent, sparked a sensation that bordered on pain.

“You don’t have to do this. You can stay with your friends. I’m doing okay. I’m dealing with it.”

Without thinking, he cupped the back of her head and brought his mouth to hers. They’d barely touched lips when she tilted her head back. Her big blue eyes blinked up at him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It seemed like a good idea to me,” he said, aware that her hand remained on his chest. The pain had faded, and now the touch was simply warm, comforting, and he found himself wishing that he could feel her fingers on his skin.

She shook her head. “I could name ten reasons why it’s
a bad idea. For starters, I’m just in town for a while and…” She rattled on, and he heard something about an ex-husband before he stopped listening. The moment a woman started talking about her ex, he shut off.

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to her lips.

She kept talking. Those sweet lips moved against his finger. God help him, she really was a jabberer. He really didn’t like jabbering woman. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

“Shala?”

“What?” She inhaled deeply as if she’d forgotten to breathe.

“Stop talking.”

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