Smoking Hot (22 page)

Things wouldn't change, so why not admit the truth? “You aggravate the hell out of me, but yes, I'm going to miss you.” The thought of Dillon leaving left her feeling empty on the inside. She would grit her teeth and get over it, just like she did everything else.

“I haven't left yet,” he said.

He pulled her toward him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. She knew he stirred feelings inside her, and not just because he'd spent the night. It was this. Him holding her in his arms. The warmth of his body against hers. Feeling as though everything would be okay and they would find enough evidence against Ethan. Then she realized what Dillon gave her that she hadn't had in a long time. Security. What would she do when he left?

“Don't think about it too much,” he said when the silence lengthened between them.

“I'll survive.” She drew in a deep breath. “I always do.”

“I don't want you to just survive. I want you to be happy.”

“At this moment, I'm happier than I've been in a long time. Why don't we leave it at that?”

He studied her face as if he wanted to say more, but then he nodded.

She moved out of his embrace, knowing that as much as she would like to stay nestled in his arms, her problems weren't going away. When she pushed the cover to the side and rolled away from him, there was a chill in the air. She shivered as she hurried to the dresser. When she didn't hear him getting up, she glanced over her shoulder. He was still in the same spot. Staring with a hungry look. Something stirred inside her.

“Really? After last night?” Her words didn't come out as strong as she would've liked.

He dragged his eyes to her face. “I was okay until you slipped out of bed naked.”

Knowing that she turned him on was nice. But she still had a criminal to catch. She opened a drawer and began to get dressed. He still didn't move. “You're supposed to be helping me, remember?” She stepped into a lacy pair of black bikini panties.

“No clothes,” he grumbled and sat up in bed. The sheet bunched around him. Now she was staring. How could a man be so beautiful? His shoulders were broad and he had the most delicious muscles. And when he pulled her close it was as though he was giving her a piece of Heaven.

“You're killing me,” he groaned.

“What?” She realized he wasn't the only one who was staring.

“I'll be back in a minute.” He closed his eyes and disappeared.

Raine grabbed the dresser. He really should warn her before he popped in and out of her life. It was jarring watching him vanish. She started to move away, then opened another drawer and grabbed the first bra she touched. They had a lot of work to do today and she didn't want to tempt him. At least, not before they had some more leads.

She pulled on jeans and a loose shirt, buttoning the front. Maybe Ethan wouldn't slip up, but there had been two men with him. They might not be as good. She grabbed socks and boots and then headed downstairs. Once she had the coffee started, she went to the back porch and sat in one of the rocking chairs, setting her boots and socks on the floor, staring at the land before her. There was something fresh and clean about the country. She didn't want to lose it.

Someone once told her the country was too quiet. They didn't listen. There was nothing quiet about it. Birds were already waking up. They chirped and flew back and forth from tree to tree. They fussed at a squirrel who invaded their territory. The squirrel wiggled his tail at them as if to say he didn't want to climb their silly old tree anyway and scurried back down. A horse whinnied. The cow answered. The chickens were clucking and the rooster crowed.

She drew in a deep breath. Good clean country air. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee. You couldn't beat—

Dillon popped in, blocking her view. She jumped and grabbed her boot, ready to throw it at her intruder. She stopped herself just in time. “What? Is your goal to give me a heart attack?” She frowned at him. “I asked you not to do that.”

“You knew I was coming back.” His forehead furrowed as though he was genuinely puzzled.

“Okay. Fine,” she grumbled as she pulled her socks then boots on. She came to her feet and started past him, but he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Her body was starting to come alive when he ended the kiss and stepped back.

“Good morning, in case I forgot to tell you.”

For a moment she only stared at him, then a frown turned her lips downward. “Has anyone ever told you that you're an ass?”

He grinned. “A few people have.”

“They were right. You are.” But she wasn't really mad. How could she be angry when he made her feel so alive?

Dillon was going to be the death of her. All that should be going through her mind was collecting enough evidence to prove Ethan robbed the bank, but when he touched her like that, when he pulled her close, when he kissed her, nothing else seemed important.

She pushed out of his arms. “The coffee should be ready.”

“I won't let you go to prison,” Dillon said.

She turned at the door. “How will you stop them?”

“I'll do whatever it takes.”

The determination in his eyes said he would do exactly that, no matter the cost. Maybe she didn't want to know what he would do if it came down to it. There was something in his look that said his decision might be a high price for him to pay.

“It won't come to that,” she said with renewed determination. Suddenly, it wasn't her future or Grandpa's or Tilly's at risk. Dillon was also throwing his hat into the ring. It left a sour taste in her mouth. The weight of everything and everyone she cared for rested on her shoulders and the burden was getting heavier by the minute. She wasn't sure she would hold up.

“Trust me on this one,” he said.

But she couldn't. It wasn't because he'd mistakenly thought she would be killed the night of the bank robbery and pushed her out of the way. That wasn't his fault. She knew deep down she was afraid to let someone else take charge. She wasn't exactly sure why; she only knew she couldn't, and she didn't want to think too long or hard about her reasoning.

“Coffee,” she mumbled, then hurried into the kitchen.

She went straight to the cabinet and opened the door, taking down two cups. She filled one, then the other, marveling that her hands were steady.

The screen door opened and closed. She added sugar and cream to her coffee. “I do what I have to do,” she said. She stirred the coffee, watching it change from dark black to a light brown. He picked up his cup. She didn't look at him.

Dillon simply said, “I know.”

A moment passed until she gathered her thoughts and spoke again. “I need to find out if this uncle exists.”

“Where do you want to start?” he asked.

But Dad, it's too hard.

Raine, you're not paying attention.

I am, but it's like walking through a maze and there's no way out. Every time I think I might have it figured out, the perp throws another hedge in my path and I have to start all over again.

If you want to find where the lie begins, sometimes you have to start at the end.

She blew across the top of her coffee and took a drink. “We'll start at the end.” She had a plan and it was a good one. For a while she might have been anxious, but good teaching always won out, and her father was one of the best.

She glanced up and saw that Dillon didn't understand what she was talking about. “Phil Turner owned the car dealership. We'll start with him.”

It still took over two hours to track the man down. At least he was still in town. The ink was barely dry on the contract and he was tying up loose ends and not planning to return, or so his cousin told them. The cousin didn't care for his uppity ways and was more than glad to tell them he was at the storage buildings on the North side of town, making arrangements to have the rest of his things shipped to California.

“Mr. Turner, we'd like to speak with you a moment,” Raine said with a smile pasted on her face.

He was standing with a man outside the office building. The cousin had described Philip Turner accurately. He was tall and thin and always wore a jacket no matter the temperature. The cousin said he had thin skin and the brutal Texas sun would burn him to a crisp if he wasn't careful. She also said they better hurry because his flight left that afternoon.

“I'm afraid I don't have the time,” he answered and took the top copy of the sheet the other man handed him.

“It's been a pleasure, Mr. Turner.” The owner of the storage buildings tugged on his cap and hurried back inside. He didn't ask many questions about what went in his storage units and he didn't want to know anything.

“Unless you want to miss your plane, you'll oblige the lady,” Dillon said.

Raine glanced his way. Since when did he become a cop?

“By what authority do you have the right to detain me?” he blustered.

“I'm a deputy. That's all the authority I need,” she said. Technically, he didn't know she was on a forced leave of absence. She refrained from telling him.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Where's your uniform?”

“We're undercover,” Dillon easily answered before she had a chance.

Now they were breaking the law. Legally, she didn't have any authority to question Mr. Turner, but she didn't refute Dillon's words. “Would you like to use my phone to call the office? Sheriff Barnes has to be in court this morning, but he might be back. If not, we can wait here or at the office.”

Mr. Turner glanced at his watch and frowned. “No, I'm sure you're who you say you are. What do you need to know?”

“We want to know everything about the deal you made with Ethan Miles.”

“He's a cop.” He looked back and forth between them.

Raine didn't blink. “He's under investigation.”

The man stuck a finger beneath his collar as though he thought it was a noose that was tightening around his neck. “I don't know anything about him except we made a deal and he signed on the dotted line. If he's done anything illegal, I'm not aware of it.”

Dillon's smile didn't look at all genuine. “Did we say he did something illegal?” He looked at Raine as though he was puzzled. “All we said was that he was under investigation. Isn't that right?”

What the hell was Dillon doing? Mr. Turner wasn't stupid, and Dillon might be immortal but he couldn't act. She gave him a look that she hoped would tell him to back off and let her handle this. When Mr. Turner looked at her for confirmation, she smiled.

“We're checking out a few of his stories,” she explained. “Now, if you don't mind answering a few questions, then you can be on your way.”

“How did he pay?” Dillon asked.

“How was he acting?” Raine asked at the same time. Mr. Turner looked between the two of them as though he might turn around at any moment and run all the way to California. She hurriedly jumped in. “One question at a time, Mr. Turner. How did he act?”

A bead of sweat ran down the side of Mr. Turner's face. “As if he was in a hurry,” his words tumbled out. “Nervous,” he squeaked.

“And how did he pay?”

“A check on a Galveston bank. It's legit. I called to make sure. The money has already been transferred. Over half up front and the same bank is financing the rest.”

“Did he say where he got the money?” Not that she expected him to know.

“An uncle died and left it to him. That's all he said. I swear.”

By the time they finished with their questions, Mr. Turner was sweating profusely and practically ran to his rented Cadillac. Raine watched him climb inside and drive off in a swirl of dust.

“The sale of the dealership might be perfectly legal, but I'd bet my last dollar he's done shady dealings in the past,” Dillon said, voicing her thoughts.

“I agree.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“If Ethan paid four hundred thousand for the building, there's a quarter of a million dollars still unaccounted for. Where's that money?”

“Pocket change?”

“Maybe he thought he might need to make a fast getaway and would need to have quick access.”

“Sounds plausible.”

She socked him on the arm.

“Ow.” He rubbed his arm. “Why'd you do that? He answered all our questions.”

“That didn't hurt and you know it.”

“You frogged me.” He shrugged. “It hurt for a second.”

“What were you doing? You could've blown everything playing cop. What was with all the dramatics?”

He suddenly grinned. “Acting lessons. I was pretty good, right?”

“Acting lessons? Who from? Laurel and Hardy?”

His eyebrows drew together. “You've heard about them?”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. God, sometimes he made her feel like a fish out of water. “Never mind. I don't want to know. We have enough information to continue the investigation.” She glanced down at her notes. “We need to know about this long lost uncle.”

But it wasn't going to be as easy as she thought. There were more Miles listed in the Galveston area than she had time to search through. It was time to call in a favor.

“Hello?” Darla said, sounding drowsy.

Raine glanced at her watch. Darla worked last night and she would work tonight. “I'm sorry I woke you, but I need to ask a really big favor.”

“Raine?”

“Yes, it's me.”

“Whatcha want?” She yawned.

Raine waited, then said, “I need you to leave the back door at the sheriff's office unlocked tonight.” She hated asking her, but it was the only way to get to Ethan's personal files so she could find out more about him. It could cost Darla her job.

“What's going on?” Darla asked, more alert than she had been a moment ago.

“The less you know, the better off you'll be. You can't tell anyone about this, and if they question you, say you didn't realize the door was unlocked.” She wasn't sure Darla would put her job on the line. Raine was taking a huge risk asking her to do this much. What if Darla left it unlocked, then got scared and told the sheriff what Raine asked her to do? But then, Darla was taking an even bigger risk if she followed through.

“I won't say a word, sweetie. I know you didn't rob that bank, even if you do need the money. If I can help in any other way, let me know.”

“I will. Thanks, Darla.” She pressed her lips together as an unexpected wave of emotion flowed through her. Oh hell, she didn't want to care about anyone else. What if something happened? How would she protect Darla? She slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“She'll be fine.” Dillon put his arm across her shoulder and pulled her against him. “You can't take care of everyone all the time. Friends help friends and that's what Darla is doing.”

“But I
don't
take care of everyone. That's the problem.”

“It's not your fault your father gave up after your mother left him.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “But I was partly to blame. I let him down. I promised I wouldn't let anyone hurt him again. I didn't follow through. He hurt up until the day he died. Alcohol was the only thing that made his pain go away.”

He looked into her eyes. “He made the choice to drink. Not you.”

“But—”

“No. It was his choice, not yours. He was the parent. He should have seen to your needs, taken care of you.”

“It hurts,” she whispered. The pain was raw and it had festered inside her for too many years.

“I know.”

“I thought we had something special, but we didn't.”

“Sometimes people can't accept the pain of their loss for one reason or another. It consumes them until they start making bad choices. You need to stop blaming yourself and understand he was human and had flaws. Everyone does.”

Dillon was right. But accepting it was another matter entirely. It was easy to tell herself that she wasn't to blame for her father's drinking; it was harder to believe it. For the first time in a long time, though, she felt as though the weight on her shoulders was beginning to lighten.

“I want to see Grandpa,” she said.

The ground suddenly disappeared beneath her feet. Her stomach rolled as it did every time they transported. She tightened her hold around his waist and closed her eyes tight as the wind rushed past. What if she let go? Would she end up somewhere halfway between wherever they were going, her body splattered all over the place?

Her feet touched on solid surface again and she breathed a thankful sigh of relief. She opened her eyes and saw they were in Tilly's living room. “I meant we should take the car.” She stepped out of his arms.

“Oh. You didn't say you wanted to drive.”

“I thought it was implied.”

“Have I told you how sexy you are when you get ticked off at someone?”

She clamped her lips together. “That's not what we were discussing, so don't change the subject.”

“We thought we heard voices,” Grandpa said as he and Tilly walked into the room.

“Grandpa!” She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight.

“What's the matter, little girl?” Worry laced his words.

“Nothing. I've missed you.”

“This will all be over soon.” He patted her on the back. “We've been working on our end to find out more.”

“Everyone sit,” Tilly said. She beamed when she looked at Dillon. “I never thought I'd see the day when there was an angel in my home.” Her forehead furrowed. “Except maybe when I was dying.” She shook her head. “But that's neither here nor there.”

When she and Dillon were comfortably seated on an antique red velvet settee, and Tilly and Grandpa in matching high-backed chairs, Grandpa said, “You first.”

Raine began with what they'd discovered a little while ago, telling them everything Mr. Turner had told them. “I think Ethan is guilty. Everything points to him.”

“But you still don't believe it,” Grandpa guessed.

“I'm not sure. I don't agree with the way he does a lot of things, but he's a good cop,” she said.

“Or is it out of loyalty?” Grandpa asked. “He's a cop and you were always taught to respect someone with a badge. Good cops can go bad.”

“I know,” she said. He was right. She didn't want to believe it.

“What have you discovered?” Dillon asked.