The Wild One (11 page)

The few questions he had answered had been met with monosyllabic answers, until she’d backed off, figuring it was impolite to pry.

“Okay, I don’t know much about him,” she admitted. “But he passed a background check to get the job. And I think after this many years, I’d know his heart. He would never hurt anyone.”

“You’re telling me your ex-Special Forces bodyguard who gets paid to beat down anyone who even dares to touch you would never hurt anyone?”

“Not without reason,” she insisted, but her resolve was weakening. She thought she knew Dexter, but she’d been burned enough times in the music business to know it wasn’t wise to put complete faith in anybody—not even yourself. Still…”Why now? Why would he do this?”

“You had just come off a tour. Did he have any reason to believe you might be firing him any time soon?”

Roxxy gripped the phone. “Actually, I was planning to go back to school full time in the fall. He was the only one who knew my plans.”

“Mmm-hmm…” the D.A. answered in a tone that conveyed he had seen it all and was now incapable of surprise. “I’m going to send a few units to pick up your friend in the Bronx or wherever he’s holed up. I think we might be closing this case sooner than later.”

Despite what Dexter might have done, Roxxy’s heart ached for him. “Maybe I could talk to him when you bring him in. He doesn’t like to talk to people, but maybe he’ll talk to me or at least tell me why he did this.“

“You realize if Steve Kass hadn’t gotten you out of the city, this guy would have already killed you by now, right?” the D.A. asked her.

“Yes, but—“

“Yes, but nothing. He’s murdered one of mine, so here’s how this thing’s going to go down. We’re going to pick up Dexter. Your host will be released from the county jail, but when he gets back, you’re going to act like you don’t know word one about this case until we come and get you.

“Wait, you want me to keep on lying to him?” Roxxy asked. “Why?”

“We’ve learned the hard way is best to keep a witness in protection until we’ve got the suspect firmly in hand. But don’t worry, it’s not some mafia guy who can put a hit on you from jail, so this should only take a few more days. Soon we’ll come get you, and you’ll be able to return to your old life, stalker-free.”

He hung up then, apparently considering the conversation finished, but Roxxy didn’t replace the phone in the cradle for a long time.

Funny, but her old life didn’t sound that appealing anymore. In fact, the only thing less appealing was continuing to lie to Andrew for however long it took until the D.A.’s office came to retrieve her.

ANDREW DIDN’T QUITE KNOW WHAT to make of what had happened to him that day. First, he’d been brought back to the police station in Buellton by his ex-girlfriend’s father. He’d figured out from the sheriff’s questions alone that the man at the motel must have been Steve, who he’d been trying to get in contact with for over three days now with no return calls, but the sheriff and his deputies had been downright reluctant to believe his tale of a friend in New York who had asked him to hide some sort of unnamed informant at his ranch.

“So you’re trying to say somebody from the New York mob came all the way to Montana to poison your friend and do God knows what with the witness and then left the body in the hotel to decay so bad, the manager came in because he was getting complaints about the smell?”

Andrew made a mental note to check in with Ray Bob, the manager/owner of the motel. Even though he’d bought Sinclair Township, Ray Bob owned the motel and could technically run it however he pleased. Still, it didn’t look good for a motel in his township to only have as-needed maid service. Andrew suspected quite a few of Buellton’s transits and meth heads were taking advantage of the motel’s low weekly rates and “no questions asked” policies.

“I’m not trying to tell you anything,” Andrew said to the sheriff. “I’m telling you exactly what happened. Were there any other numbers on the phone in the room? Ones with New York area codes?”

From the looks a few of the deputies exchanged behind the sheriff’s back, Andrew could tell he’d guessed something right.

But the sheriff stubbornly set his jaw. “So you think there’s a second dead body we haven’t found yet. You want to tell us about that one, too? Maybe you can lead us to it.”

Andrew shook his head and raised his hands. “With all due respect, sir, I’m done answering questions until you at least call Steve’s office in New York to corroborate my story.”

The sheriff didn’t move a finger to make any such call, just asked him question after increasingly insulting question, all of which Andrew answered with respectful silence.

Finally the phone rang, interrupting the one-sided interrogation. A deputy answered it and his eyes widened in surprise. “Hold on a minute,” Andrew heard the young man say.

The deputy then pulled the sheriff aside and said something to him in a low voice, something that caused an angry look come over his face. “Throw him in a cell while I take care of this,” the sheriff said.

And that’s how Andrew ended up spending most of the day in a jail cell, the nice guy slowly fuming out of him the longer he was made to wait.

By the time a deputy came to release him, it was dinner time and the sun was sitting low in the Montana sky.

“I suggest you keep your nose clean from now on, Mr. Sinclair,” the sheriff said as a deputy handed him back a bag holding his personal items. “You may own that town of yours, but remember, I’ve still got jurisdiction there, and I’ll be watching you. If you so much as speed, we’ll be hauling you into that cell again. Might put a plaque on it just like the one you have on that little ranch of yours. We’ll call it something hoity toity, like the ‘The Sinclair Cell and Resort.’”

The sheriff seemed to like the laugh that bon mot got from his deputies, because he went on. “Maybe we’ll catch that little black girl of yours up to something and have her spend a night or two with us, too. If she wants, she can wear that mini skirt we heard she was parading around in for a few days. Give the deputies something to look at it.”

Two of the deputies snickered.

Andrew didn’t allow his face to show emotion at all, but his voice became dangerous and low. “I’m a nice guy. I like to keep my business drama-free and I try to treat everybody I encounter fair and square. You’re upset because I hurt your daughter. I understand, so I’m going to let this slide. Once. But understand something, you will never bring me in here again. Even if you find me at a crime scene covered in blood, you will question me in my home and at my leisure. And if I find out one of your deputies so much as says a single wrong word to Layla, then you’re going to find yourself without a job. I don’t care how well we used to get along.”

He then pointed his first two fingers at the deputies who had snickered at the sheriff’s threat against Layla. “But you two, I don’t owe anything, so you can go ahead and pack up your personal belongings. You no longer have jobs on the Buellton police force.”

The sheriff’s face went blotchy with anger, “Where do you think you get off? You’re not in the big city anymore and you don’t have any jurisdiction over me.”

Andrew picked up his smart phone and went into his contact list. “That’s what weird about small towns. They always think they’re so different from big cities, when it fact they’re even worse.” He pushed a button on his speed dial. “For example if I were still living in a big city like Pittsburgh—which by way is only mid-sized—I might have to make two calls to get you and your whole department fired, but here, my life is much easier—“

He broke off and smiled into the phone. “Hello, sir. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your dinner. Unfortunately, I’ve been in a jail cell at the Buellton police department since early this morning. Isn’t this department run by someone you endorsed in his last election?” He gave the sheriff a significant look. “And I believe a few of our mutual friends in the state gave him substantial campaign contributions.”

He then listened for a few moments, before saying, “Sure, I’ll put him on the phone. Nice talking to you, sir. Sorry about interrupting your dinner. No, I don’t have time to come over tonight to join you guys. I wish I did, because I’m still remembering those smothered pork chops from the last time…they were worth the three hour drive. Rain check.”

He handed the phone over to the sheriff and said sotto voce, “It’s the governor for you. Apparently, he didn’t want to hear what I was arrested for, he just wants to talk to you.”

The sheriff answered the phone with a stammering, “Y-y-yes, sir? I understand sir. No, I’ve already indentified the deputies responsible for the oversight and have given them their walking papers. Yes, sir. No, I promise you it will never happen again, sir.”

One of the deputies, who hadn’t laughed at the sheriff’s threat against Layla, ended up driving him home. But Andrew couldn’t get Steve out of his mind. The man had had been an oily prick who only cared about his career, but he had gotten a lot of bad guys off the street and he didn’t deserve to die like this.

He pulled out his phone and made a note to send his family flowers the next time he was at a computer. But before he could finish thumbing in the reminder, the phone lit up with his brother’s name.

Andrew’s heart went cold in his chest. Nathan was finally calling him back. Probably about Layla. He clicked a side button and sent the call to voicemail, then immediately deleted the message that popped up on his voicemail list soon after.

So much for Mr. Nice Guy. Layla was his now, he thought, his mind flashing back to how responsive she’d been to his every touch the night before. He wasn’t about to give her back to Nathan.

“Can you drive faster?” he asked the deputy, suddenly more anxious than ever to get back to Layla and lose himself in her sweet curves.

But when he got home, he found the house dark and empty, with Layla nowhere to be found.

CHAPTER 14

ROXXY
had been all over the world, but she’d never seen anything as drop dead gorgeous as the Montana night sky. She sat in a little meadow, about a mile down the creek from Sinclair Ranch, looking up at it now, mesmerized by its beauty and wishing on its stars. As if they could make it so her most trusted friend hadn’t just been exposed as a crazed stalker, as if they could get her out of this mess with Andrew.

Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Andrew came loping into the meadow, with the lazy grace of a tiger. But something burned in his eyes that told her he was only half-joking when he tipped his hat toward her and said, “I see you’ve found a new place to hide from me.”

She smiled, treating it like a joke, as if that hadn’t been exactly what she was doing. “But, alas, you found me.”

“After looking in the barn, and just about everywhere else. One of the hands said they’d seen you headed toward the river. Hard to keep secrets in this place.” He sat down next to her.

Not as hard as you think
, she thought. But out loud she said, “I don’t get many chances to be this close to nature, and when I do, it’s usually a beach at a secluded resort.”

He nodded. “Nathan and his beach vacations. I bet you couldn’t pay him to rough it out here.”

“I don’t think you could pay most people to come to Montana if white sandy beaches were on the table.” She looked back up at the stars. “But they don’t know what they’re missing.”

“That’s how I felt when I first came here,” he said. “But I’m surprised you feel the same way. I could barely get you to take hikes with me back when we were dating in Pittsburgh.”

“A hike in Pittsburgh and a hike out here are two different things entirely,” she said. “Montana, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Just looking at the sky for a minute or two makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay, like my problems really aren’t as big as I think they are, not as big as that sky at least.”

Andrew nodded. “I thought I came back here to get away after you married Nathan. But when I came back for good, it felt like I had finally found the place where I belonged. Now you’re back and the picture’s complete.”

A wave of guilt washed over her. “Andrew…”

“Don’t say anything,” he said, his voice taking on a certain hard edge. “We don’t have to talk about feelings yet.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s go back to the house.”

So that was what they did, in silence, both seemingly lost in faraway thoughts. When they entered the house and Andrew took off his cowboy hat, she had to resist the urge to run her hand through his sun-kissed hair.
He’s not yours
, she reminded herself.
Not really.

They walked up the stairs, and she stopped outside the door to her bedroom. “Well, thanks for coming to get me. I don’t know if I would have been able to find my way back.” She gave him what she hoped was a decent semblance of a light smile. “Good night.”

But before she could turn the doorknob, his hand was on top of hers. “I’ve had a long day, so I’m going to cut straight to the point. From now on, you’re sleeping in my bed.”

“I think it’s better if I sleep in my own,” she said. She tried to keep her voice firm as she said this, but she could hear it shaking.

“You’re pissing me off with this, Layla.”

“I’m not trying to,” she said. “It’s just, like you said, I’ve changed. A lot. I’m not the Layla you used to know, and I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ve disappointed a lot of people in my life, and I don’t want to disappoint you, too.”

“Nathan’s an asshole.”

She shook her head. “Andrew…”

“No, I’m serious, if he let you go, if he made you feel like you were a disappointment, then he’s an asshole.” He took her hand off the doorknob. “Now come to bed with me where you belong.”

Where you belong.
She let him pull her along, her conscience telling her one thing, but her heart making it seem as if she really didn’t have a choice. He was the first man, the only man, she’d ever been comfortable enough to have sex with stone cold sober. That alone made him irresistible, not to mention the fact that last night’s coming together had been spectacular, better than the stars in the Montana sky even.