Wyatt hadn’t expected that to come out of her mouth. Not this soon. Only minutes earlier they’d survived a life-and-death situation, so he’d figured there’d be a little downtime to come to terms with everything that had happened.
Apparently not.
He was trying to figure out what to say, when his blasted phone buzzed again. Wyatt considered ignoring it, but then he saw his boss’s name on the screen.
“We’re making the arrests now,” Wyatt answered, hoping to put a quick end to this.
“Good. But that’s not why I’m calling,” Saul answered back. “You should get down here to the marshals’ office as soon as you can. There’s something you and the others need to see.”
Chapter Nineteen
Wyatt was a hundred percent sure he didn’t want to deal
with anything else tonight. Well, nothing that didn’t involve talking to Lyla to
figure out how he could fix this.
First, though, he needed to figure out what
this
was, exactly.
And it would have to wait until he found out what had arrived
at the marshals’ office. With the rotten luck he and his family had had lately,
Wyatt prayed this wasn’t another dose of bad news. They’d had enough of that to
last a couple of lifetimes.
Wyatt pulled into the parking lot of the marshals’ building.
Not alone, either. Lyla and Stella were with him in his truck, and Kirby, his
brothers and their families were in assorted vehicles that pulled in right
behind them. Billy, too, had come along with them.
Saul probably hadn’t intended the entire family to come to the
office, but since they were all going to check in to the hotel just up the
street, it wasn’t exactly out of the way. Besides, none of his brothers probably
wanted to be away from their wives and children.
Danger had a way making a person realize just what was
important.
And in Lyla’s case, apparently it had clarified for her that
she wanted to go home. Away from him. Away from the chaos that’d been her life
for the past couple of days.
They huddled together against the cold and made their way into
the building and up the stairs. Soon, there’d be reports to write up on the
shooting, the deaths of the gunmen and Nicky Garnett. Reports of what Zeke had
and hadn’t confessed to. But Wyatt hoped that wasn’t the reason Saul had called
them all in.
After one glimpse of his boss’s face, and hands, Wyatt knew
that it was more than that. Saul was wearing gloves, the kind a marshal used
when handling evidence.
Saul wasn’t in his office but rather at Dallas’s desk, which
was toward the center of the sprawling squad room. “This arrived by courier
about an hour ago.”
There was a shipping box, and Saul reached inside and took out
an old-fashioned cassette tape player.
“Sarah,” Lyla mumbled.
Saul nodded. “Apparently, long before she went into a coma,
she’d put this in a safe-deposit box in San Antonio and left instructions that
it was to be delivered here in the event of her untimely death.”
Well, it’d been untimely, all right.
“Nicky Garnett confessed to killing her, and he was working for
Zeke,” Billy said, walking closer. “So, there really was a tape?”
“Yeah. And I figured we’d all listen to it together.”
Hell. They weren’t out of the woods yet. Because if that was
Sarah or Zeke on the recording, either one of them could implicate Kirby. Or one
of the rest of them. It wouldn’t even have to be true, but as Zeke had said—it
could put a shadow over them for the rest of their lives.
Wyatt felt Lyla’s arm go around his waist, and just that simple
gesture felt far better than it should have. His brothers’ wives did the same,
despite the fact that Clayton’s wife, Lenora, was holding their son. Slade and
his wife, Maya, each held their babies.
“I want you to marry me,” someone said out of the blue.
Kirby.
And he was looking directly at Stella.
Judging from the mumbles and sounds of surprise, no one in the
room had been expecting that. And Wyatt hadn’t expected Stella’s reaction.
“You’re proposing now?” Her hands went on her hips. “Why,
because you think some lies on that tape will send one or all of us to
jail?”
“I don’t care what’s on that tape,” Kirby insisted. “It won’t
change how I feel about you. About any of you.” He motioned around the room and
then pried Stella’s left hand off her hip so he could hold it in his. “I love
you, and asking you to marry me is something I should have done a long time
ago.”
Stella’s mouth opened as if she might question that. But how
could she? Every one of them knew what Kirby had said was true. He’d been in
love with her for years.
“You’d better say yes,” Declan volunteered. “I’d like to attend
my parents’ wedding, and I’m sure your other sons and daughters-in-law feel the
same.”
No more sounds of surprise. Just nods and mumbles of
approval.
There were tears in Stella’s eyes now, and she went into
Kirby’s waiting arms. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Wyatt smiled in spite of Kirby’s rotten timing. Except, Kirby
had managed to inject some genuine happiness in what had been a hell of a bad
day.
The hugs and well-wishes came. Lots of them. Everyone went over
to hug their parents. It didn’t matter that Declan was their only biological
son—Kirby and Stella had been Mom and Dad to all of them. The only person who
stayed back was Billy, his attention focused on the tape recorder on the
desk.
“Should we listen to this tape now?” Saul prompted.
It was time.
But it wasn’t.
Wyatt glanced around the room at his family’s faces and knew
there was something missing. Lyla. Who’d already told him she intended to go
home.
“I want this to be your home,” Wyatt blurted out to her. He
said it a little louder than he’d intended. Actually, a lot louder, because
suddenly everyone was looking at them.
“Not the marshals’ office,” he clarified, feeling very
tongue-tied. “I want the ranch to be your home.” He motioned around the room as
Kirby had done. “And I want this to be your family.”
Like Stella, she didn’t jump to say yes. In fact, Lyla just
stared at him. Then shook her head.
Damn. She was going to say no, and Wyatt didn’t want that. So
he stopped her with a kiss. In hindsight, it probably shouldn’t have been so
long and deep, but it hushed her, all right.
And left them both a little out of breath.
“I want you to marry me,” Wyatt insisted.
“Uh, you’re already married,” Declan pointed out.
Yes, but in name only. Well, except for the one time they’d
made love. But Wyatt wanted more. More than in name only. More than what he had
with Lyla now.
“The baby is Ann and Wyatt’s,” Lyla said. Apparently, Wyatt
wasn’t the only one in a blurting mood.
“They know.” Declan, again. “I told them.”
“And we’re all happy for Wyatt and you,” Kirby said, coming to
her and pulling Lyla into his arms. “We loved Ann, but we love you, too. And
we’ll welcome you to this family with open arms.”
Lyla still looked a little stunned but nowhere on the verge of
saying yes.
“The tape?” Saul prompted again.
“Play it,” Wyatt answered, but he took Lyla by the arm and
marched her out into the hall.
She stared at him as if he’d lost him mind. Maybe he had, but
he wasn’t dropping this.
“What’s on that tape could be important,” Lyla said.
“Not more important than this.”
She huffed. “You’ve made it clear. You want me to stay married
to you. You want us to raise this baby—”
“I’m in love with you.”
Like the earlier kiss, that stopped her. She stared at him, her
expression softening. Well, it softened for a few seconds before she shook her
head again.
“You haven’t gotten over your wife’s death,” she added. “And
until you do, you shouldn’t be asking me or anyone else to marry you.”
“I’ll never get over that,” he answered honestly. “She’ll
always be part of my life. But a part that I’ve put behind me so I can move on.
With you and the baby.”
She just stared at him.
“This would be a good time for you to realize you’re in love
with me,” Wyatt tossed out there. He didn’t expect much but hoped for the
best.
Actually, he hoped for a miracle.
And he got one.
The corner of Lyla’s mouth lifted. Barely a smile, and it
didn’t have time to grow into something bigger. That was because of the
footsteps he heard heading right toward them.
Sheriff Geary was leading a handcuffed Zeke up the stairs and
no doubt to a jail cell.
With her still in his arms, Wyatt ushered Lyla back into the
room, where they got congrats and well-wishes, which were cut off when Zeke was
brought in.
Zeke aimed glares at all of them, but that glare morphed to
pure shock when he saw the tape recorder on the desk.
“Anything on there will be a lie,” Zeke snarled.
As if to prove him wrong, Saul pressed the button on the
recorder.
Just like that, the happy moment was gone, and they all seemed
to hold their breaths. Even Billy.
“This is Sarah Webb,” the voice said. And it was indeed Sarah,
all right. “I’m making this tape because I believe my life’s in danger. If
something happens to me, then the person responsible is Sheriff Zeke
Mercer.”
There it was. Exactly what Wyatt had wanted to hear. But the
tape wasn’t over. She could still drag Kirby and the rest of them into this.
“Sheriff Zeke Mercer walked in on a fight between Jonah and me.
We were in Stella’s room because of a broken pipe, but Stella wasn’t there.
Jonah hit me, and in the heat of the argument, I grabbed his knife and stabbed
him. Zeke’s the one who pulled the knife out of his ribs.”
That explained the castoff and why it didn’t match a woman of
Sarah’s size.
“Jonah ran down the hall to his office and was going to get a
gun and kill me,” Sarah continued. Even though her voice was soft, it seemed to
shout through the room. “I tried to wrestle the gun away from him, but he
backhanded me. I fell, hit my head on the desk and lost consciousness. When I
came to, Jonah was dead, his chest covered in blood, and Zeke helped me bury his
body.”
That was it, the end of the tape, and Wyatt mentally went
through the explanation he’d just heard.
“The stab wound Sarah gave him didn’t kill Webb, did it?” Wyatt
asked Zeke.
Zeke just resumed his scowl.
“You killed him after Sarah was knocked out cold and then let
her believe she’d done it.”
Bingo. Wyatt saw the slight reaction in Zeke’s eyes, letting
him know he’d hit pay dirt.
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t confess,” Kirby pressed.
“You’re already going down for Sarah’s murder and for being an accessory. Plus,
a whole boatload of other crimes that involve attempted murder of federal
marshals. You’ll get the death penalty whether you man up to this or not.”
A muscle flickered in Zeke’s jaw. “I’m more of a man than
you’ll ever be, Kirby Granger.”
“Really?” Kirby challenged. “Then prove it. Man up.”
The muscle flicked harder, and Zeke cursed some raw profanity.
“Yeah, I did it. I killed Webb.” And that was all he said for several long
moments. Wyatt was worried his fit of temper had come and gone.
But it hadn’t.
“Webb was blackmailing me for a business deal where he’d
arranged to move those guns from Rocky Creek to Mexico, and he would have ruined
me. That’s why I went to see him that night, to try to reason with him, and I
walked in on Sarah stabbing him.”
“She didn’t kill him,” Billy mumbled.
“No. Barely made a cut, with the puny way she lunged at him
with that knife. It only pissed him off, and he would have killed her if I
hadn’t stabbed him and finished the job.”
Wyatt shook his head. “You didn’t kill Webb to save Sarah. You
did it because he was blackmailing you.”
Zeke lifted his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter none now, does it? It
was easy killing him. And when Sarah came to and saw him dead, she just assumed
she’d done it. I helped her bury the body.”
“When did she tell you about the tape?” Lyla asked.
“A couple of days later. She said if anything happened to her,
then everyone would learn that I’d been an accessory to murder.”
None of them said anything, but Wyatt could feel the stunned
silence. Zeke hadn’t been just an accessory. He was the one who’d killed
Webb.
“You nearly killed us, too,” Lyla said, “when you had the bomb
go off at Rocky Creek.”
“That wasn’t meant to kill you. If it had been, you’d be dead.
It was to destroy that damn blood spatter that the CSI geeks found. I cut my
hand when I pulled the knife from Webb, and I figured some of my blood could be
mixed in with the castoff. I made an anonymous call to report the bomb so you
could get out in time.”
Wyatt had figured as much. At that point, Zeke would have still
wanted Lyla alive so he could force her to manipulate any evidence that might
incriminate him. That didn’t mean, however, that they couldn’t have died in that
explosion.
“You’re the one who had the embryo stolen,” Wyatt said. He was
certain of it, but he wanted the admission from the man who’d made their lives a
living hell.
Zeke nodded, grumbled something under his breath. “You hadn’t
exactly kept it a secret that you wanted a kid, and, yeah, I figured you’d try
to protect Lyla once she was pregnant. But I also figured you’d be so anxious to
protect the baby she was carrying that you’d tell her to do whatever it took—and
that included fixing any evidence against me.”
It turned Wyatt’s stomach to hear a fellow lawman accuse him of
something like that. It was true that he would have protected Lyla and the baby,
but Wyatt would have never forced her to tamper with evidence. He would have
looked for another way. And had found it. That’s why Zeke was under arrest right
now.
“I’m bringing in your business partner, Greg,” Saul informed
Zeke.
“He did nothing wrong. Was just a kid when the killing
happened, and he heard just enough not to have heard anything that would point
to me. A lot of people had a beef with Webb that night.”
“But you kept Greg close,” Lyla said. “All these years you kept
him by your side, in your business, in case he remembered the wrong thing.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter now.”
“It could,” Lyla argued. “We got a call from an unknown name
and number, It wasn’t your voice, but it could have been Greg’s. That would make
him an accessory to your crimes.”
“It wasn’t Greg. I hired someone, a lackey, to make that call.
I wouldn’t have dragged Greg into this when it was easier to pay someone.”