Don't Mess With Texas (24 page)

They drove around to the back to her building. Her apartment door still stood ajar.

Seeing the mess wasn’t any easier than it had been last night. However, she managed to don some underwear, slip on a pair of jeans and a pink blouse, put on a tad of makeup, find her extra set of keys, and meet Dallas back in the living room in less than fifteen minutes. She found him sitting on the sofa.

He looked up and his gaze moved over her body.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “You look nice. Pretty in pink.”

She noticed that he had her photo album in his lap.

“I hope you didn’t mind.” He held up the album.

“No.” She didn’t mind. Though why he’d want to look through old family pictures was beyond her.

He glanced down. “You were a cute kid.” He flipped over to almost the back of the book. “And a beautiful bride.”

She glanced down at the eight-by-ten picture of her tossing the bouquet, Nana at her side. Nikki had thrown away the photos of her and Jack together, but she’d kept this one. Her wedding had been one of the happiest days of her life. Even if it had led to a broken heart and a divorce, she hadn’t wanted to forget everything. How many happiest days in your lives did you get?

However, with Jack’s death fresh on her mind, she didn’t want to walk down that memory lane. “We should get going.”

“Just one thing.” Dallas stood and, this close, she realized how tall he was, and how small she felt beside him.
He looked at her desk. “Do you still have any paperwork on where you sold the computer?”

“You don’t believe me?” Hurt curled up in her chest. His belief or disbelief in her shouldn’t matter. But for some crazy reason it did.

“I do.” His voice rang with honesty. And when she looked in his eyes she saw the same emotion there.

He set the photo album on the coffee table. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t. But as an ex-cop, I know my brother will want proof. He’s big into evidence.”

“I don’t like your brother.” And instead of just staring at Dallas and trying to figure out why his opinion was important to her, she started digging in the side pocket of her purse. She found the yellow piece of paper from the pawnshop.

“He’s not all bad, Nikki.”

“Couldn’t prove it by me.” She handed him the paper.

“The job makes him an ass sometimes.”

“Did the job make you an ass?”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“But you quit, which makes you less of an ass.”

He stared at her as if he had something else to say, but her cell phone rang. Worried it could be news about Ellen, she grabbed her phone. The tightness in her chest lightened when she saw it was Nana.

After a conversation wherein she assured her grandmother she was fine, and hinted she might need to borrow her car, Nikki rode with Dallas to the gallery. Once there, she stopped at the unopened glass door. She looked past the closed sign and her breath caught. She’d expected there to be blood, but never this much. She gasped.

Dallas, standing at her back, moved in a little closer as if to say she could lean on him. Problem with leaning on someone was that one day, just when you were confident your wall of strength would be there, you found him screwing your hired help. Or you discovered you weren’t his real daughter and he suddenly didn’t love you anymore.

“You okay?” he asked.

She tried to take a deep breath, but only got down a swallow. “You ask that a lot.” Her hands shook so hard, she couldn’t fit the key in the lock.

“That’s because you don’t look okay… a lot.” Humor laced his voice.

“You’re a real champion with compliments, aren’t you?” she countered, hoping to find some emotional footing in the lightness.

“I said you looked nice back at your apartment.” He moved to her side and studied her. The smile in his eyes vanished as if he was seeing right through her attempt at humor. Frowning, he took the keys from her trembling fingers.

She thought he was going to open the door, instead he ran a finger over her chin. The sweeping touch reminded her how good his touch had felt in other places.

“You don’t have to go in there right now,” he said. “I’ll pay for lunch. We can come back later. After you’ve seen Ellen, it’ll be easier to take.”

Not really, Nikki thought. She’d learned that postponing things didn’t make them easier. Stiffening her spine, she took the keys from his hand and opened the door. As she walked inside, she heard him mutter something about her being stubborn, but she decided not to address it.

She wasn’t stubborn. She was just… cautiously independent. Life had taught her to be.

Taking a deep breath, she found herself staring at one of her paintings—the one of a girl swinging on a tire swing with her father standing behind her. She wanted to lose herself in the painting and not look at the…

Stop postponing it
. She had to face this sooner or later. She would be fine, she told herself, and shifted her eyes back to the floor.

Wrong
.

She wasn’t fine.

Seeing Ellen’s blood, so much blood—and this close up—sent a wave of nausea right to Nikki’s stomach. Reminded of her hospital stay, she sucked air in through her nose. Where was her pink barf bucket when she needed it? She covered her mouth.

Dallas took her by the shoulders and turned her away from the scene. Not thinking, she buried her head on his chest. “Oh God. I can’t believe this happened.” She took another gasp of air in her nose and blew it out her mouth.

Don’t puke. Don’t puke
.

Dallas’s hand brushed over her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, his voice low, soft and caring.

She felt herself leaning into him even more. The nausea started to fade, but she didn’t pull away. She needed his wall of strength right now. Later, when the shock wore off, she’d cut the ties. Clean cut, too. She’d go cold turkey, no more wall. But now…

“Nikki?” The warm whisper of his voice came close to her ear. How did he make saying her name resonate with so much concern? She waited for him to continue, to ask again if she was okay, or to tell her everything was going to be fine.

“You aren’t going to puke on me again, are you?” he asked.

She pulled back and stared at him. “No.”

“I mean, if you have to, I’ll take one for the team. But you’re gonna owe me big. And I like your work.” He glanced at her paintings. Then he looked back at her and smiled tenderly.

“I’m feeling better,” she told him.

“Good.”

She suspected he’d teased her just to get her mind off being sick. And it had worked.

“Now, let’s get out of here, okay?”

“But I need… the money.”

He looked as if he was going to argue then stopped. “Is the money in the register?”

She nodded.

He held out his hand. “You got the key?”

She handed him her key ring and pointed to the key with a red dot.

“Wait here.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “And breathe or you’re going to pass out.”

She wasn’t going to pass out. But just in case, she breathed. He removed his hand and stepped away. She stared at the front door. All of a sudden her mind took her to what Ellen might have felt being here alone with a killer. Questions started bouncing around her head. Did Ellen see who did this? How long had Ellen been in the store alone and bleeding? How long had Ellen’s attacker held her at knifepoint? Had Ellen screamed?

Fear crowded Nikki’s chest and tears filled her eyes. She fought back the emotion and listened to the sound of the register drawer opening and closing. Dallas’s footsteps neared and she waited for him, somehow knowing his nearness would make her feel safe again.

“Come on.” He pressed his hand to the small of her back and moved her toward the door.

She stopped right before she walked out. “Wait? What am I doing? I… I should clean it up.”

“You shouldn’t.” He paused. “Isn’t seeing Ellen more important right now?”

“You’re right.” Nikki allowed him to guide her outside. When he locked the door, she couldn’t stop from looking back one more time. She couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Moving her gaze away from the blood-covered floor, she looked up at Dallas. “Has your brother talked to Ellen yet?”

He nodded. “This morning.”

“Did she see who did this? Does she know who it was?”

“No. The perp was wearing a mask.” He put his hand on her back again. “Come on, let’s go.”

Nikki hesitated. “I’m stuck in an old episode of
Law & Order
.” She fought the wash of panic threatening to take over again. “I can even hear the music playing in the background.”

“Yeah, but you’re not alone.” He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to his car. His touch wasn’t the least bit seductive as it had been this morning, but the light squeeze he offered and his not-alone comment came with genuine emotion. And that was even more of a lure than their little make-out session on his bedroom floor had been.

She liked this guy.

Cupcake or no cupcake.

L
E
A
NN STUDIED HER
new patient’s chart.
Ellen Wise
. Her heart lurched when she realized this was one of Tony’s witnesses and the friend of Nikki, the woman Tony suspected of killing her husband. Damn. LeAnn didn’t want to run into him again.

Closing her eyes, she pressed two fingers to her temple and wished she could run and hide. Alone. Not even at home. She needed to get away—somewhere her memories of Tony wouldn’t haunt her.

She recalled the look on his face when he saw the envelope—hurt, disappointment, and guilt. It was the same look he’d had on his face when he’d packed his bag three weeks after the funeral and took off to San Antonio to do an undercover job. But how could he be disappointed in her now? Wasn’t she giving him what he wanted? A way out without feeling guilty?

I married you because you totally rocked my world. You stole my heart. I would have asked you to marry me a month earlier if I thought there was a chance in hell that you’d say yes
.

His words replayed in her head. Part of her wanted to believe them,
had
believed them, until she saw him pack his bags that day and leave for San Antonio. She’d been dying inside from grief and self-blame, but she hadn’t considered that losing Tony was part of the deal. That was the day she realized that Tony probably blamed her, too.

She was a nurse, she knew SIDS wasn’t a parent’s fault, but hundreds of what-ifs had hunkered down inside her heart to live. What if she’d gotten up to check on Emily right when she’d stopped breathing? What if LeAnn let her sleep in the bassinet a month longer? What if LeAnn had eaten more vegetables when she was pregnant? If her own education hadn’t stopped her from blaming herself, how could Tony
not
blame her?

“Something wrong?” Carolyn, her nurse tech, asked.

LeAnn looked up from the chart. “Just reviewing.” She forced herself to smile and started moving.

“By the way…,” Caroline said.

Nikki turned around.

“Did your hubby find you? Let me tell you, you are one lucky gal. I swear—”

LeAnn’s throat tightened. “Yeah. He found me,” she said and took off.

Dallas studied Nikki from across the restaurant table. The purple circles under her eyes had lessened. But the stress in her baby blues hadn’t. Unfortunately, he needed to start asking questions, digging around in her past. He knew how hard this was going to be, but he needed to know things to do his job.

The fact that he wanted to know things for reasons other than the case shouldn’t matter. He had to do his job.

“Tell me about Jack.” He reached for the ketchup. He’d brought Nikki to one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall hamburger joints.

“I already did.” She looked down at the plate.

“I need more, Nikki.” Immediately the various truths of his statement filled his chest with a hot, raw desire. He needed more of what occurred between them this morning. Every few minutes, he’d remember how her hands had felt moving up his chest and how her breasts had looked and felt filling his palms.

“What kind of more?” she asked.

He reined in his wayward thoughts, but it wasn’t easy because that pink top she wore did amazing things to her breasts. “What was he into?”

She smirked. “You mean besides my hired help?”

“Yeah, besides that.” Dallas smiled, but he was beginning to understand her use of humor as a cover. Not that it was particularly a bad thing. He excelled at making light of things himself. But right now he needed the truth.

“Was he into anything illegal?” He squirted a mound of ketchup beside his onion rings and then ripped off a couple of paper towels from the holder on the table. “Drugs? Gambling?”

She appeared insulted at his question. “He was a lawyer.”

“As if that makes a difference.” Dallas picked up an onion ring and raked it through the ketchup and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed around the hot crusty piece of heaven, he noticed she still hadn’t touched her food. Her stomach had to be gnawing on her backbone by now. He was starved, and he’d had a doughnut this morning and hadn’t lost his dinner last night.