One Night Standoff (6 page)

“So a couple of your brothers said.” Morris drew in a long breath. “I guess you see the problem with that. All of you are each other’s alibis, but we know that Sarah had an accomplice who either lived in the facility or had access to it.”

“There were plenty of other kids living in that place,” Clayton explained. “I hope you’re looking as hard at them as you are at me and my brothers.”

“I am.” Morris paused. “And, of course, I’m looking into your father, too.”

“Kirby had nothing to do with this,” Clayton snapped.

He glanced at his notes again. “That’s the identical comment I got from all your brothers.”

“Because it’s not just a
comment,
it’s the truth.” Clayton didn’t hesitate.

The Ranger made a sound that could have meant anything. “I have to put this in my report, so I need to know if you saw or heard anything suspicious the night that Webb disappeared.”

“Nothing.” Again, no hesitation, but this time Clayton opened the door. “I need to get Lenora off her feet,” he added, and it had a definite goodbye tone.

Ranger Morris looked as if he wanted to demand that the interview continue, but Lenora slid her hand over her stomach. She wasn’t hurting, the baby had even stopped kicking, but she figured it would get Morris to back off.

It did.

He tipped his hat. “I’ll be in touch with you soon,” Morris assured him, and he walked off the porch toward a dark blue truck.

Clayton didn’t waste any time. He got her inside and shut the door, locked it, but he didn’t go far. He stopped and leaned the back of his head against the glass insert on the door.

“How bad is the headache?” she asked in a whisper. Lenora eased off his Stetson and put it on a peg hook next to the door. “And before you answer, I’d prefer the truth.”

“I’ve had worse,” he mumbled.

She was afraid that was indeed the truth, and it was a stark reminder that Clayton wouldn’t be going through this if it wasn’t for her. She was the reason he’d been shot in the first place.

Lenora pressed the wet tissues against his neck again. This time, the front. “Do the doctors have any idea how much longer you’ll get the headaches?”

He pulled off his glasses, hooked them on his jeans pocket and met her gaze. “They’re getting farther apart.”

She stared at him. “Do you do that a lot—dodge questions that you don’t want to answer?”

He made another of those noncommittal sounds, obviously still not planning to answer. That meant he might be dealing with these for the rest of his life.

The glass panel on the door made this part of the entry light, so Lenora took him by the arm and led him into the dark room on the right. It was a den with brown leather furniture, but thankfully all the blinds were closed on the row of windows on the far wall. Since she doubted that she could convince him to sit, Lenora put him back against the wall and continued to put the wet tissues on his throat.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled and would have moved away from her if she hadn’t blocked him with her body.

It didn’t take her long to realize that just wasn’t a good idea. Her breasts landed against his chest, and the close contact gave her another jolting reminder that Clayton was, well, hot. She’d thought it the first time she laid eyes on him, and apparently her body wasn’t about to reverse that opinion now.

She tried to step back, but this time it was Clayton who did the stopping. He snagged her by the wrist before she could put some distance between them. Lenora was about to tell him it wasn’t a good idea, but then she saw something other than pain in his deep-brown eyes. The heat, yes.

But maybe more.

“Do you remember?” she asked. She didn’t clarify—did he remember having sex with her—but Lenora figured they were on the same page here.

Their bodies seemed to be, anyway.

The air between them changed. So did the rhythm of her breathing. And even though she tried to level it, Lenora was reasonably sure she was giving off every signal a woman could give to a man to let him know she was
interested.
Definitely not a good idea, because she needed to get away from Clayton so he wouldn’t be attacked again.

It was a solid reason to move.

But she didn’t.

She huffed, beyond frustrated with herself. And worse. She still didn’t back away when Clayton leaned down, his mouth inching toward hers.

“This might help me remember.” His warm breath hit against her lips when he spoke.

And suddenly more than anything, Lenora wanted him to remember. Oh, and she wanted him to kiss her, too. Clayton might not have any memories of their one-night stand, but Lenora was well aware that he could set fires with his mouth.

He moved in closer. Closer. And she was just a breath away from kissing him again. Too bad she could already feel it and also too bad her body seemed to think this was foreplay, that Clayton would haul her off to bed again.

That wouldn’t happen.

Even if she desperately wanted it.

Her eyelids were already fluttering down, getting ready for that kiss, when Clayton stopped. It took her a moment to realize why. The baby was kicking, and with her body pressed against Clayton’s, he could feel it.

In that split second of time, the heat went from his eyes, and he slid his hand over her belly. Concern replaced the heat and the pain.

“Is the baby okay?” he asked.

It took her a moment to switch gears, and Lenora pushed away the attraction that she shouldn’t be feeling anyway. Especially not a time like this. “She’s fine.”

Clayton blinked. “She?”

Lenora shook her head when she realized what he was thinking. “I’ve had ultrasounds, but I was still trying to make up my mind about knowing the sex of the baby. So the tech didn’t tell me.”

His forehead bunched up again. “You went through the trauma of the shooting when you were...what...just two months pregnant? Are you sure that didn’t harm the baby in some way?”

“Positive. I had a checkup just last week.”

That didn’t ease the tension in his face. “And you need another one after what happened today.” He cursed again. “I should have already thought of it. Hell, I should have already taken you to the doctor.”

Lenora was about to assure him that she would indeed see her doctor as soon as she left the ranch, but Clayton pulled out his phone, scrolled through the numbers and made a call.

“Dr. Landry,” he said, then paused. “No, it’s not about Kirby. I need you to come out to the ranch, though. To examine someone.” He paused. “A pregnant woman in her second trimester.” Another pause, and he looked at her. “Are you having cramps or anything?”

“No,” Lenora quickly answered. She wanted to grab the phone and tell the doctor this wasn’t necessary.

But what if it was?

Lenora stepped back and tried not to think of the worst-case scenario, but she did anyway. She couldn’t lose this baby. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have a doctor check her out while she was making arrangements to leave and go someplace else.

“Dr. Landry’s on the way,” Clayton relayed to her as soon as he ended the call. “She’s not an obstetrician, but she does deliver some babies as part of her family practice.”

Before the last word had even left his mouth, Lenora heard the sound of a vehicle pulling to a stop in front of the ranch house. Normally, a sound that ordinary wouldn’t have shot renewed concern through her, but after the day Clayton and she had had, nothing felt normal and safe.

“You expecting anyone?” she asked.

“Maybe Ranger Griffin came back for round two.”

Clayton shoved back on his sunglasses and hurried to the door so he could look out the glass panel. He cursed.

Lenora hurried to his side, looked out at the visitor who’d just stepped from a black car, and she mumbled some profanity, too. This was not someone she wanted to see at the ranch. Not so soon after the latest attack.

James Britt, the head of the task force to which she’d once been assigned. Her handler. He was also her top suspect in these murder attempts.

With his hand over his gun, their suspect was making a beeline for the front door.

Chapter Seven

Clayton recognized the tall, dark-haired man walking up the porch steps. They’d met briefly when Clayton had been assigned to protect Lenora and Jill. Of course, at the time he hadn’t known that James was Lenora’s boss.

“I’ll take care of this,” Lenora insisted, and she might have tried to do just that if Clayton hadn’t caught her by the hand and forced her to stay put.

No way was he letting her go out there.

Clayton wasn’t ready for a confrontation with a man who might be working for the killer, Riggs. Not yet, anyway. First he wanted Lenora checked out with the doctor and then moved to someplace safe. But with James on his doorstep, Clayton decided to go ahead and question the man.

While Lenora stayed inside, that was.

The doorbell rang, but Clayton ignored it and phoned his brother Harlan. “I got a visitor,” Clayton explained. “Special Agent James Britt. I need a fast background check and let me know ASAP if you see any red flags on this guy.”

“You think he’s somehow connected to the shooting?” Harlan asked.

“At a minimum. He could be connected to Riggs.”

Harlan mumbled some profanity. “I’ll send Wyatt out there to the ranch while I work on this. He’ll get there as fast as he can. I’ll also make sure a few of the ranch hands move closer to the house.”

Clayton didn’t refuse the backup, but he hoped it wouldn’t be needed.

“I’ve been looking deeper into Lenora’s background,” Harlan continued. “And before you blast me out of the water for doing that, just hear me out. Something’s not adding up about her, and I want to know what it is.”

Yeah, it was
something,
all right. “She has a connection with Agent Britt. She worked for him on the task force that investigated Riggs.” It wasn’t the whole story, not by any means, but it would have to do for now, because the doorbell rang again.

“How long have you known this about her?” Harlan snapped.

“Not nearly long enough.” He’d give Harlan more details later, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable talking about her criminal past with his family. That didn’t mean Harlan wouldn’t find it on his own.

“Wait here,” Clayton told Lenora when he ended the call with Harlan. The doorbell rang yet again, and it was followed by a heavy knock.

She didn’t listen to him. In fact, Lenora moved in front of him when he reached to open the door. “I know the right questions to ask him, and it could lead to his arrest. If I talk to him, it could end the danger right here.”

That was the only thing she could have said that would have made him think twice about letting her in on this impromptu interrogation.

But Clayton did think twice.

And after doing that, he still shook his head. Ending the danger
right here
could put Lenora in the middle of something that he wanted her and the baby to avoid.

He glanced out again and saw the two ranch hands making their way toward the house. Both were armed with rifles, probably on Harlan’s orders. Good. It might be overkill, but Clayton welcomed it. If Agent Britt was dirty, he likely wouldn’t start any trouble with three guns ready to return that trouble.

“Stay behind me,” Clayton said to her as a way of compromising. “If anything goes wrong, I want you to get out of the way fast.”

She didn’t argue, maybe because she knew it was a huge concession that he’d just given her, but she did draw her gun from the back of her jeans. Clayton drew his gun as well, and he opened the door only a few inches, keeping his weapon out of sight but ready.

“Marshal Caldwell,” James immediately greeted him. He glanced back at the two armed ranch hands, and his scowl deepened.

“Agent Britt,” Clayton replied in the same crisp tone. “To put it mildly, the timing of your visit is suspicious, so why are you here?”

Despite the direct question, James didn’t answer right away. His gaze went from Clayton’s sunglasses to the scar on his forehead, and then to Lenora, who was peering over his shoulder.

“I heard about the APB out for the two thugs who took shots at you,” James finally said. The chilly tone of his voice came through in the equally chilly glance he gave her. Maybe a dismissal. Maybe anger. It was hard to tell. “Also heard the shooting involved a stained-glass restorer, and I figured that could only mean one thing.
Lenora.
Guess I figured right.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you came here,” Lenora quickly pointed out.

James huffed as if the answer was obvious and planted his hands on his hips. “Just because you ended your association with the justice department, it doesn’t mean I forgot about caring what happened to you.” He glanced away, cursed. “I feel bad about Jill’s murder and everything that you’ve been through since.”

“But you didn’t feel bad enough to return my calls for days after Jill’s death and Clayton’s shooting.”

James’s jaw tightened. Clearly he didn’t like what Lenora had said, but judging from the glare the agent gave him, he believed that Clayton was somehow responsible for Lenora speaking her mind.

“There was a glitch in communication that night,” James explained. “I didn’t get your message for hours, and then I got word from another agent that you were in the marshal’s hotel room. Where you spent most of the night. I was trying to figure out how to handle it.”

That didn’t sit well with Clayton, and he did some glaring of his own. “Why would you believe that you needed to handle anything? Lenora and I were both consenting adults, and by then she was no longer in my protective custody.”

“Lenora wasn’t exactly thinking straight that night, and I didn’t want her breaking down and revealing her real identity to you. It might have compromised the entire task force.”

Even though Clayton didn’t like that answer, either, he glanced back at Lenora to see what she thought of it. She clearly wasn’t buying it.

“If you were concerned that I’d spill all to Clayton, then why not return my calls and warn me not to do it?” she pressed.

Another huff from James. “Because I was trying to figure out how to deal with it. Besides, I was pretty torn up about Jill’s murder, too. I needed some time to work out things in my head.”

Lenora stepped out next to Clayton. He groaned and shot her a stern warning to step back, but she obviously couldn’t see the look behind his glasses. If it wouldn’t have caused a full-blown migraine, he would have shed the shades just so she could see that he did
not
want her to do this. Of course, she already knew, so the migraine would just be wasted.

It didn’t take long for James’s gaze to drop to her stomach. “You’re pregnant.” He didn’t seem exactly surprised, but upset instead. “You should have let me know something like that.”

“Well, you and I haven’t exactly stayed in touch, have we?” Lenora clearly didn’t try to take the sarcasm from her voice.

“Are you accusing me of something?” James fired back.

“Are you guilty of something?” she returned just as fast.

James didn’t answer her, but instead turned back to Clayton. “I know you’re looking for the person responsible for putting a bullet in your head, but it wasn’t me. I’m not even convinced it was Riggs.”

Clayton hadn’t expected James to say that. “Riggs has a solid motive. Or at least he believes he does. He could want Lenora and me out of the way so we can’t testify against him.”

“Even without your testimony, he’ll be convicted,” James reminded him. “Lenora and you have both done affidavits, and your sworn testimony could be used against him. Riggs and his lawyers know that.”

True. However, there was the other angle that Lenora and Clayton had already considered. “But with us out of the way, maybe Riggs could get murder one reduced to a lesser charge.”

James didn’t argue that, but his attention went from Clayton to Lenora. “I’ve been investigating this, and I think we need to take a harder look at Quentin Hewitt.”

Because Lenora’s arm was against his, Clayton felt her muscles tense, and despite the shades, he saw some of the color drain from her face.

“Quentin was the man who got me involved in money laundering,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Clearly, she wasn’t comfortable talking about this. Clayton wasn’t comfortable hearing it, either, but from the sound of it, this could be critical.

“Why would this guy want to shoot us?” Clayton asked James.

James, however, looked at Lenora. “You want me to tell him, or should you?” And for some reason, the agent didn’t seem too upset about revealing something that was obviously unsettling to Lenora.

Yet another reason to dislike the man.

Lenora didn’t dodge Clayton’s gaze. She looked him straight in the eyes. “Five years ago, I was Quentin’s executive assistant. And I was in love with him. Or I thought I was, anyway. I did whatever he wanted me to do to make his business succeed.”

So, Quentin and she had likely been lovers. Clayton had to push aside the quick jolt of jealousy he felt and remind himself that it’d happened well before he met her. And besides, it wasn’t as if he and Lenora were involved except for the baby. A one-night stand didn’t make a real relationship even when it made a real baby.

“Quentin was the initial target of our investigation,” James continued when she didn’t. “Lenora helped us find evidence against him, without his knowledge, of course. We led Quentin to believe we got the dirt against him from other sources. So that he could avoid jail time, he in turn helped us convict at least a half dozen big-time criminals. Afterward, Lenora stayed on the task force, again without Quentin’s knowledge, and he went into WITSEC.”

Witness Security Program.

Ironically, it was run by the U.S. Marshals Service. Of course, Clayton wouldn’t automatically have been told of anyone entering the program, and even if he had been in this case, the name would have meant nothing to him. He certainly wouldn’t have connected it to Lenora.

“Quentin went missing from WITSEC just a couple of days after Jill was murdered,” James added.

Clayton didn’t like that timing any more than he did the timing of this visit or the attack at the church. “Maybe he’s dead.”

The agent shook his head. “I have three confirmed sightings of him. No, Quentin’s very much alive, and I think he saw or heard something that made him realize Lenora had been working for the justice department.”

She groaned softly. “Quentin could have done those break-ins at my house that happened before your shooting.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Clayton, I’m so sorry. I should have never visited you that day.”

Lenora still had a grip on the gun she was holding, but her hand dropped limply to her side, and she turned and went back inside the house.

Clayton didn’t want her to be alone, especially after seeing those tears, but he needed just a little more from James. “You consider Quentin dangerous?”

“Oh, yes. He’s in love with Lenora. The only way we convinced him to go into WITSEC and keep his distance from her was because we led him to believe that it’d keep her safe. We convinced him that the cronies he put in prison might try to use her for revenge to get back at him.”

And all of that would have come crashing down if Quentin had learned that Lenora had been the very informant who’d turned him over to the authorities in the first place.

Yeah, that was a big motive for murder, all right.

“If Quentin’s behind this,” James continued, “you could be an innocent bystander in both of the shootings.”

There she is.

That’s what the two gunmen at the church had said, so maybe they were indeed just looking for Lenora. It didn’t change things. It only meant Clayton had to do a better job of protecting her.

“I’ll send you the file I have on Quentin,” James volunteered. “And I’d like to offer Lenora a safe house until we work out this mess.”

“Yes to the file,” Clayton agreed. “No to the safe house. I’ll work out security for her.”

James nodded. “Figured you would. Just know that we’re on the same side here.”

Clayton wasn’t a hundred percent convinced of that. James could be trying to use Quentin to throw suspicion off himself, and that was something Clayton would investigate further.

They both looked at the truck that was practically flying up the road toward the house. It was Wyatt, and even though there didn’t seem to be an eminent threat, Clayton was glad he was here. Wyatt slammed on the brakes and got out the moment the truck stopped.

“One of your marshal brothers, I assume,” James said, clearly not happy about the security measures they were taking for his visit. “I’ll send you that report on Quentin.” And with that, he walked back to his car, passing a hard look at Wyatt along the way.

“He’s the guy who hired someone to take shots at you?” Wyatt asked, and he didn’t wait until James was out of earshot, either.

“Maybe. I need you to make sure he leaves the ranch. I have to talk to Lenora.”

Wyatt pinned his attention to James, who started his car and pulled away. “Harlan told me she’s pregnant.”

“Yeah. The baby’s mine.”

It wasn’t surprise, exactly, that went through Wyatt’s eyes. Envy, maybe. Now that he was a widower, Wyatt was again the hot catch of Maverick Springs. The one all the single women wanted. A few married ones, too. But Clayton knew that this particular hot catch wanted to be a father, and he wanted it bad. So far there hadn’t been any baby reminders at the ranch, but there would be now.

Well, there would be if Clayton could keep Lenora safe and somehow convince her not to run out of his life again.

“See to Lenora,” Wyatt said, his jaw muscles stirring. “I’ll make sure the potential scum isn’t a threat.”

Clayton went back inside, welcoming both the semidarkness and the A/C. There was sweat trickling down his neck, and his mind was racing with all the things he had to do. First on his list, though, was Lenora.

She wasn’t in the entry, where he’d expected her to be waiting, so Clayton checked the den. Not there, either. He went through the formal dining room and into the kitchen, where Stella was seated at the table.

“She’s out there,” Stella volunteered, pointing to the sunroom that stretched across the side of the house. The worst place possible for him because of the light. Stella had added heavy blinds and drapes to the other rooms in the house, but the sunroom had been left as it was.