Texas Tangle (3 page)

He hadn’t been lying when he said he would have pulled over to help no matter who had been standing there, but her comment about him wearing a black hat rankled. Here she thought he was being a nice guy driving her home, not realizing the whole time all he’d been thinking about was how to get in her pants. Not that he didn’t often fantasize about getting her under him, but he hadn’t wanted to push her before she was ready. Now she’d had some time to recover from the wounds left by her divorce, he’d decided to press his case a little stronger.

The kiss had been totally unplanned, but once he’d started it and from the way she’d responded, he’d been unable to pull back. If his dick had any say, they’d have been doing one helluva lot more than kissing once he’d gotten her inside. Hell, if wishes were horses, he’d have been riding her all night long.

Taking one hand off the wheel, he rubbed her shoulder, hoping to soothe her, but the tenseness of her muscles didn’t subside. “Hey, it’ll be all right. It’s just things. At least you weren’t there when they broke in.”

Though he had a damned good idea that the person who’d taken her stuff hadn’t needed to break in.

She didn’t turn to look at him, just continued staring back up at her house. The dim green glow from the dashboard highlighted her throat as she swallowed. “So why’d we take off like that? If everything’s gone, then they’re gone too. There were no other cars or trucks there, so it should have been safe. Shouldn’t it?”

Once they reached the main road, he parked the truck so it wouldn’t block the driveway, but left the engine running. “I didn’t want to take the chance that whoever took your stuff might come back and find us there.”

Or might have still been lying in wait, expecting her to come home alone. What if Phil hadn’t taken her stuff? What if she’d arrived earlier, while the bastards were still there? She could have been hurt. Raped. He clutched the steering wheel.

Ten long minutes passed before they heard sirens wailing in the distance. Once the first patrol car pulled up beside the truck, Scowling, Dillon lowered his window. Damn it, why the hell wasn’t it Brett responding? This was his territory. “Hey, Tiny. Where’s Brett?”

The deputy sheriff shrugged. “There’s a big pile-up on the interstate tying up most of the station. It’ll be a while from the sounds of the mess. So what we got here?”

“Nik’s been robbed.”

“She okay? They rough her up at all? She need an ambulance?”

“No. She wasn’t there when they took her stuff.” Thank God for small miracles.

“Then she’s been burgled, not robbed.”

If he hadn’t been in the truck and Tiny in his car, he might have popped the deputy in the jaw. “Jesus H. Christ, Tiny. Robbed, burgled. Nik’s stuff is gone. What the fuck difference does it make?”

“’Cause one’s right, and the other ain’t.” Tiny put his car into gear again. “You two stay here until I make sure the scene’s secure, ya hear?”

His car had disappeared over the ridge just as two more units turned off the road. Their lights caromed off the trees and rocks as the cars muscled their way over the washed-out driveway. Less than five minutes later, one of Barnett County’s newest officers cruised back down the lane and stopped at the entrance, blocking anyone else from accessing the place. He swaggered over to Dillon’s side of the truck. “Tiny says for you to bring Ms. Kimball up to the house now.”

Dillon turned the truck around and headed back up the laneway, parking beside the police cars. Lights blazed from every room in the house. Tiny stood on the porch, talking to two of his officers. “It’s all clear, folks. From the looks of the stuff they dumped out of the fridge, whoever did it is long gone.”

Dillon didn’t know if he was pleased they’d missed them or pissed off that he didn’t have a chance to show the scumbuckets a little Texas justice.

Tiny held up a hand to stop them once they reached the top step of the porch. “Ms. Kimball, before you go in, I need to ask you a few questions.”

Dillon took her hand in his. The little squeeze she gave him in return wound its way into his chest and around his heart. Thank God he’d been running late and had been the one to stop to help her.

Tiny flipped the page on his notebook. “When were you last here?”

“I left just after seven on Wednesday morning.”

“You mind tellin’ me where you went and why?”

Though Dillon could sense her impatience, Nikki answered the questions about her trip to Indiana and about the horse she’d rescued. How they’d gotten him settled and cleaned out the barn before checking the house. About how she’d left Phil to look after the place. And how Phil’s car wasn’t parked out back in its usual spot. “We didn’t realize anything was wrong until I noticed all the lights were off. That’s when Dillon checked the house and discovered I’d been robbed, I mean burgled.”

Tiny hmmed but didn’t say anything more, just continued jotting down notes.

“When can I check my stuff? See what they’ve taken?”

Tiny shot Dillon a why-the-fuck-do-I-have-to-be-the-one-to-break-the-bad-news, thanks-a-lot-dipshit look. “I’ve only got a few more questions, then we’ll be through. Now did you lock the door when you left? ’Cause there’s no sign of any damage to the lock or the door.”

“Yes, but Phil was still here when I left. Maybe he left the door unlocked.”

“The door was unlocked and partially open when I checked it,” Dillon added, pissed off he might be giving Phil a possible get-out-of-jail-free card.

With a grunt, Tiny scratched something into his notebook. “You know where your brother is right now, Ms. Kimball?”

Her shoulders slumped. “No.”

“He got a cell phone you can call him on?”

“Maybe. I left mine here. He may have borrowed it.”

Dillon pulled out his phone and dialed the number Nikki dictated. A half minute later, he shoved it back in his pocket. “No answer. Can you track it?”

“Could, I suppose.” Tiny looked doubtful. “I’ll get Sheriff Crawford to check with the judge but you’d probably have more success if you keep phoning—somebody’ll probably answer at some point.” He used his notebook to tilt his hat back. “Your brother been workin’ anywhere recently, Ms. Kimball?”

“No, not many people are willing to hire a man with a record.” Plus Phil was a lazy-ass bastard who was content to let his sister do all the work while he sat on his butt.

“If he left here, you have any idea where he might head? Maybe to your parents’ or some girlfriend’s or something?”

“I don’t know. If he went home, it would be in violation of his parole.”

Tiny hmmed again. “He got any friends with a truck who might’ve helped him?”

“You think Phil did this? No.” She took a step backward. “No. Phil wouldn’t steal from me. I’m his sister. I took him in after…”

She trailed off. Dillon could practically see the moment she did the math and realized X equaled her brother.

“All right, you can go in now. We’re going to need you to tell us what’s missing.”

Her grip tightened around Dillon’s fingers at her first glimpse of her living room. The only sign there’d been any furniture in the room were the dents in the carpet. A silk flower arrangement she’d had on the coffee table had been flung into one corner. In the far corner, framed photos from the shelf unit now lay scattered over the floor, the glass smashed where someone had swept them off their shelves then stomped on them.

The choked gasp that escaped her was like a dagger in Dillon’s chest. Though she hadn’t said much about it to him directly, he’d heard a lot of talk in town about how Wade had fought to take everything from her during the divorce. What few belongings she had left were hard earned. Now even they were gone.

Right then and there he vowed if he ever saw Phil—he had no doubt it was her brother who had taken her belongings—he’d stuff her brother’s nuts in the mulcher and use them as fertilizer.

Tiny tagged along behind them as they toured the house, writing furiously in his notebook as Nikki cataloged what was missing. The television, a DVD player, the sofa, love seat, coffee tables. The dining room table and chairs. Gaps accentuated where the fridge and stove should be standing, the contents of the fridge dumped on the counter, the vegetables from the crisper already wilted and flies buzzing over them.

When they got to the tiny spare bedroom she used as an office, she cursed, her fingernails digging into Dillon’s hand. The woman sure had a good grip. He’d have to make sure his brother Matt never challenged her to an arm wrestling match. That boy’s ego would take a hit to be beaten by a woman, but he’d sure as shooting lose to Nikki as worked up as she was right now.

“Look at this.” She waved a hand over the paper-covered floor. “He must have dumped everything out of my desk and the file cabinets. Do you know how long it’ll take me to sort this out?”

Nikki freed herself from his hand. He and Tiny stayed in the doorway while she walked into her bedroom, her boots echoing over the scarred plank floor. She pivoted in place then stomped to the closet and wrenched open the door. “He even took my clothes. Why the fuck would he need them? Most of them are old anyway.”

Instead of the bereft look he expected to see, anger blazed from her. Even Tiny retreated a half step at her fury. “He stole everything. He’s cleaned me out.”

Letting out a screech of frustration, she pushed past them and raced down the hall, her arms wrapped around her waist. Moments later, the front door slammed, rattling the windows. Dillon started to go after her, but Tiny caught his arm before he’d taken two steps. “If I were you, I’d let her get a head start. She needs to get it out of her system. You step in now, you’ll likely find yourself with a fat lip or a broken nose.”

Deciding to heed Tiny’s advice, he stayed where he was. But five minutes was all he’d give her. Then he was going after her. “How sure are you that it was Phil? Maybe she’s right. Maybe he took off, and someone else cleaned her out.”

It was a rhetorical question. He’d bet dollars to donuts Phil had taken her stuff, but he had to have something to tell her.

“It’s possible, but I’m betting my money on her brother.” Tiny took off his hat and scratched his receding hairline. “I’m also betting he didn’t do this alone. For the amount of stuff he’s taken and the size, he would have needed a truck and another strong back or two. You wouldn’t happen to know any of his friends, would you?”

“Phil and I aren’t exactly close.” Though they lived on neighboring farms, he doubted they’d exchanged more than five words to each other. Mainly because Phil was always planted in front of the television, while Nikki bore the burden of the chores. “You’d have to check with Nikki.”

He glanced out the window where Nikki paced the front lawn, her lips moving as if she were cursing out an invisible opponent.

Tiny followed his gaze and grunted. “I’ll give her some more time to calm down. She didn’t happen to mention anything about where her brother hangs out, did she?”

“Nik complained a while back that he’s always down at the titty bar out on the loop. You could try there.”

“The Boot-T Bar?” Tiny made a disparaging sound in the back of his throat. “I’ll go talk to the bartender, ask if they’ve seen him around.”

Brett had mentioned the type of clientele who frequented the bar as well as some of the fights, a few involving weapons scarier than a broken beer bottle. “What if Phil lost a bet to the wrong type of person, and they wanted more than just Nikki’s stuff to pay off the debt? Do you think Phil’s not here because he was part of the payment?”

“You mean they’ve decided to use him to fertilize some field right now?”

Dillon nodded.

“It’s possible. But considering he’s already out on probation for breaking and entering, and possession of stolen goods, I’m betting he cleared the place out as soon as she left and has a two-day head start. He could be halfway to the coast by now.” Tiny hitched up his pants and glanced around again. “We’ll be putting a
Be on the Look Out
for him as a person of interest either way. If we hear anything, I’ll let you know. I would recommend you don’t mention that little theory to your girlfriend there. She’s got enough to worry about.”

Shit, what if they came back looking for more money from Nikki? There was no way he could leave her alone now.

“Anything I can tell Nik in the meantime? What are the chances of getting any of her stuff back?”

Tiny scratched his arm with the edge of his notebook. “Slim to none? I have more hopes we’ll find her brother before we find her belongings. That boy’s a trouble magnet. It’ll only be a matter of time before he winds up in the slammer. If he’s lucky, it’ll be in some other county.”

With a nod, Tiny left him. Dillon heard him telling his men they could wrap up and head home. So much for fingerprinting and all the forensic crap they showed on TV. Still, if Phil wound up in the local jail, Tiny’d make sure he’d wind up eating a bellyful of knuckle sandwiches. If Brett didn’t get to him first.

Brett Anderson switched off the strobe lights and parked his squad car beside the others. The three units parked in front of Nikki’s, lights still flashing, highlighted the trim figure striding back and forth across the lawn, her arms wrapped about herself. Where the hell was Dillon, and why had he left Nikki alone?

He got out of the car and headed straight for her, ignoring the house for the moment. When he’d recognized the address blasted over the police radio, it had been all he could do not to abandon the accident site out on the highway. At least Tiny had been the first responder on scene and had kept him in the loop.

“Hey, Nik.”

Nikki’s head snapped up. “Brett!”

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms about his waist. The fear that had caught him since he’d first heard the call relaxed as he closed his arms around her. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” She buried her face against his neck, her chest heaving as she struggled to maintain control. If he knew her, it wasn’t an effort to hold back tears but to contain her anger. “Everything I’ve got is gone.”

“I know, Nik. But it’s just stuff. At least you’re safe.” Tucking her head under his chin, he stroked her back, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Despite the number of visits he’d made to her place over the years, only in his fantasies had he been able to hold her like this again.