Wedlocked?! (13 page)

Eventually he stirred, shifting his weight so he lay beside her. Utterly sated, Annie managed to turn her head. His eyes were shut, his features slack.

“We have to talk,” he muttered, and promptly fell asleep.

Curious, but wrung out, Annie did the same.

Later, when she woke again to loving hands and a clever mouth, there was no time for words. Finally, in the pale light of morning, she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a crooked smile. Before she could speak, he pulled her close and distracted her. The shower that followed started out as a mu
tual seduction and ended with shrieks and giggles as the water finally turned cold.

When they had toweled each other dry and were dressing, Annie finally asked, “What did you want to talk about?” She pulled a T-shirt over her head as Cole zipped up his jeans.

“I want to keep seeing you.” His head disappeared into a green knit shirt. “I was wondering if that would be a problem.”

“But you live in Denver,” Annie protested as her stomach launched a dive that would have made a stunt pilot proud. Was he saying that he thought they might have a future? That he still cared? Neither of them had mentioned feelings, but she knew hers were strong and true.

“I'll be coming back for Mom's wedding, and to see her from time to time. I could give you a call.”

When you happen to be in town,
Annie finished silently. Her shoulders sagged with disappointment. “I suppose.”

Cole hadn't been able to face the idea of giving her up completely, but neither was he ready to lay out feelings he hadn't waded through. There was too much going on—with Annie, with his mother and his newfound knowledge about his biological father, even with his baby sister. He was on overload.

When he heard Annie's lukewarm response, he was damn glad he hadn't said more. She didn't sound as though she cared whether she ever saw him again!

“Great,” he said with an automatic smile. “I'll look forward to it.”

“Me too.” She turned away, shoulders slightly hunched, and he was tempted to ask what was wrong. Instead he threw the rest of his gear into his bag.

Before they left the room, he gave it a searching look, pretending to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything. In reality, he hoped to find some clue as to what had gone so suddenly, painfully wrong between them. The last thing he saw before the door swung shut behind them was the bed, its sheets tangled as if a war had been fought there.

Walking toward the elevator, Cole felt as though one had.

 

When Annie pulled up in front of her office a couple of days after she and Cole had gotten back from Austin, it was with the sad realization that her part in Lily's case, except for testifying, was pretty much over. Annie switched off the engine and stared through the windshield. Even if Lily hadn't been Cole's mother, Annie would have liked her. The older woman had been through a lot in her life, but she'd found happiness with Ryan and she wasn't afraid to grab it with both hands. Their marriage was bound to be a happy one. How Annie envied them that.

Cole had a meeting with the assistant D.A. in the morning and he half expected the murder charges to
be dropped. Annie wasn't so sure. The murder trial of Ryan Fortune's lover was a high-profile one. Over the past few years, Annie had heard plenty about the prosecutor. He was ambitious and he hated losing face. He'd push it to the end, hoping renewed media coverage would sweep the jury along to a conviction. Anything a member of the prominent family did was news, and Ryan's fiancée was the next-best thing to a Fortune.

One way or another, Cole's reason for being in San Antonio was coming to an end. He would return to Denver and pick up the threads of his life. Annie intended to do the same. Getting over Cole the first time had been difficult enough and she sure wasn't looking forward to going through it again.

When her name had been cleared within the police department, she'd quit the force and thrown herself into establishing her own agency. Months passed before she was able to take a deep breath; by then the pain of Cole's desertion had turned to a dull ache. This time, too, work would be her salvation.

He was coming by to pick up some paperwork, but he hadn't said when. The colleague she'd hired hadn't located Lockhart, but Rosita's husband, Ruben, heard he was still in the area. A couple of the ranch hands had run into him at a local cantina the weekend before, so he hadn't gone underground.

Annie hoped she never saw him again. Let the
police worry about building a case against him after Lily was acquitted.

It was too nice a day for such morbid thoughts. Grabbing her purse, an armload of office supplies and a potted plant, she got out of her car. Despite the gentle warmth of the sun, the hour was still early enough that the parking lot in front of her office was deserted. Both the dry cleaner and the hobby shop were closed. The burger joint on the corner didn't open until eleven.

She was about to unlock the door to the office when she dropped her keys. Juggling her packages, she bent down to pick up the key ring, and heard a car pull up behind her. The hair she'd worn loose again swung forward, blocking her vision as she groped for the keys. Her purse slid off her shoulder and hit the pavement with a
plop.

A view of her derriere stuck in the air wasn't the picture she'd hoped to present Cole with this morning. Leaving her purse on the ground, she grabbed the keys, straightened and turned around.

“Hi, doll face. Nice to see you again.” Clint Lockhart was standing a few feet away, a chilling expression on his face and a gun stuck in his belt. His gloved hands twitched at his sides.

Annie's heart thudded with alarm. Her own gun was in her purse, lying at her feet. Of all the rotten luck; could he have been driving by and just happened to see her? She'd have to brazen it out before he realized who she really was.

“How you been, sugar?” she asked, dredging up a flirtatious smile in spite of her quivering nerves. “I hope there are no hard feelings.”

Lockhart's gaze shifted to the lettering on the door to her office and his hand moved up to rest on his belt next to his gun. “Can the act,” he snarled. “We've got a little score to settle. You're coming with me.”

“W
hat are you doing here?” Annie asked Lockhart, trying to keep the shock from her voice. How had he found her? What did he know?

Cars went by on the street, too far away from the parking lot to do her any good. She was on her own.

She clutched her keys more tightly as a sneer marred Lockhart's already cruel-looking face. “I never got the chance to say goodbye before Appleberry's goons ran me off the guest ranch.” His gaze bored into hers. “You lied to me. That wasn't nice.”

“I guess I'm just not a nice girl.”

He pulled the gun from his belt and pointed it at her. Fear slid down Annie's spine as she stared at the barrel, willing herself to stay calm. Perhaps he only wanted to scare her. Unless she had no other choice, she wasn't about to take on an armed man. “You don't need that,” she said coolly. “What is it you want?”

He waved the gun and her nerves jangled. How far would he go? “You were in my room, weren't you? What were you looking for?”

“Maybe I was looking for you,” she drawled, stalling for time.

“Don't jerk me around. I know who you are—you're a lousy P.I. The guy at the pawnshop owes me a favor. He told me you were asking questions.” With his free hand, Lockhart took a business card from his shirt pocket and waved it. “Convenient of you to leave him this. It wasn't hard to find out who you're working for, either. Just the price of a couple of beers.”

Annie nearly groaned aloud. She'd hoped the man at the pawnshop might remember something about Lockhart and call her. Maybe she should have given him more than a twenty.

“It was just business. My job was to establish reasonable doubt and get Lily cleared—not to convict you.” Perhaps he'd still listen to reason. “You know I didn't find anything. You aren't even a suspect, so don't get yourself jammed up here. Just climb in your pickup and drive away. I'll forget I saw you.”

“Sure you will.” His laugh was ugly. “No one crosses me and gets away with it.” He made a threatening motion with the gun. “Come on. You drive.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you!” If he got her in the truck, it would be much harder for her to escape him.

“The hell you're not.” He grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh. “I'm going to—”

“Let her go. It's me you want.”

Both Annie and Lockhart spun around at the sound of Cole's voice. She saw with a sinking heart that he was unarmed.

Shoving her aside, Lockhart aimed at Cole.

“Look out. He's got a gun!” Annie cried, leaping at Lockhart as a shot rang out. She knocked him off balance and his weapon skidded across the pavement.

Cole crumpled, and her heart nearly stopped. Then instinct and fury took over. Her heel connected with Lockhart's kneecap, and he screamed in pain. A couple more well-aimed kicks bent him double and her arm across his throat had him helpless.

“Cole!” she yelled, tightening the pressure, “are you all right?”

He groaned in reply, sitting up, and she nearly wept with relief. At least he was alive.

Lockhart let out a stream of cusswords as he clawed at her arm. Ruthlessly, Annie cut off the verbal abuse with his air. The bastard had shot Cole!

Behind her, the door to the dry cleaner banged open, bell ringing merrily, and Mr. Ving, the owner, came out with an automatic in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

“I called the cops,” he shouted, waving the gun wildly. “Nobody move.”

“Mr. Ving, it's me, Annie Jones.” Reluctantly she eased up on Lockhart, who gulped air hoarsely.
“Call for an ambulance. The man helping me has been shot.”

A police siren wailed in the distance. When Mr. Ving nodded his recognition and punched in more numbers, she picked up Lockhart's gun and scrambled to her feet. All she wanted was to get to Cole.

“You blink and I'll put a hole in you,” she told Lockhart, pointing the gun with both hands. He was cradling his knee and rocking, eyes full of hate. His hat had been knocked off in the struggle, revealing his thinning hair.

She risked a glance at Cole, at the blood on his shirt. His face was lined with pain as he staggered toward her, holding his upper arm.

“Are you okay?” he rasped. “Did he hurt you?”

Mindful of the gun, she caught him in a clumsy embrace, babbling her thanks. “I'm fine. Help's on the way. Where were you shot?”

“My upper arm. Burns like hell, but it's just a scratch.” He sat down on a brick planter, Annie close at his side.

She didn't dare trust Lockhart to her neighbor. Mr. Ving was pale, his gun hand trembling visibly as he held it at his side. At least he wasn't aiming it at anyone.

Finally two police cars roared into the parking lot, the drivers jumping out and crouching behind the open doors, guns drawn. Annie was grateful that she recognized one of them.

Keeping a careful eye on Lockhart, she held her
gun in the air and identified herself as Mr. Ving laid his gun on the ground.

In moments, it was all over. An ambulance driver who arrived minutes later worked on Cole, while Annie hovered anxiously, answering the patrolman's questions. Handcuffed, Lockhart sat in the back of a squad car, complaining loudly. In front of the building, Mr. Ving's wife was bawling him out for getting involved.

Annie and one of the officers followed Cole to the hospital, where she refused to let him out of her sight. The bullet had gone straight through without hitting anything vital, and he hadn't lost much blood, so the doctor treated and bandaged the wound.

“I'll get you a prescription and some instructions,” he said after he'd helped Cole on with a sling. “You were lucky.”

Annie gripped Cole's free hand, not knowing what to say. She could still hear the shot, see him fall, and she had to blink away belated tears.

“You're something,” he said with a crooked grin. “Lockhart didn't stand a chance. If I had any idea how tough you are, I wouldn't have bothered stopping.”

“I'm not tough,” she admitted. “I was scared.” She touched her hand to Cole's cheek. “You didn't even have a gun.”

His hand tightened on hers. “Not part of my attorney kit.” He turned his head and kissed her fin
gers. “Come on. I want to make sure Lockhart's behind bars.”

He was waiting for his paperwork, talking to the officer, when Lily arrived with Ryan.

“My God, Cole, are you all right?” she demanded as soon as she saw him. “Annie said you'd been shot!”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He let go of Annie's hand just long enough to give his mother a one-armed hug.

“My assistant tracked me down on my cell phone,” Ryan said. “What happened?” He glanced at Annie. “Are
you
okay?”

She nodded emphatically, afraid they'd blame her for putting Cole in danger. Quickly he filled them in, while they stared with horrified expressions.

“I'm so glad you're both safe,” Lily exclaimed, giving Annie a hard hug.

“I feel like such an idiot for letting him get the drop on me like that,” she felt compelled to admit. “If Cole hadn't shown up when he did, I don't know what would have happened.” Reaction was starting to twist in her stomach like razor wire. Looking back, she had no doubt that Lockhart had meant her serious harm, and Cole could easily have been killed instead of wounded.

“The important thing is that you're both safe and Clint is in custody,” Ryan said, squeezing her hand. “I can't believe this. He was my brother-in-law. But why did he come after you in the first place?”

“I think I can answer that,” Cole said, glancing
at the policeman hovering nearby. “When he found out Annie was investigating him, he must have figured he was going to be arrested for Sophia's murder. He went a little crazy, holding Annie responsible, and he wanted revenge.”

“Where's Lockhart now?” Ryan asked.

“In police custody, being interrogated.” Cole tensed as he looked at his mother. “Maybe this will all be over sooner than we thought.”

Lily's eyes filled with tears, and Ryan curled a supportive arm around her shoulders as she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth.

“So Clint killed Sophia?” he asked.

“We don't know anything for sure, but it's starting to look that way.”

“I was married to his sister. He worked on the ranch,” Ryan muttered, shaking his head. “I didn't like him, but I thought I knew him. It's hard to take in.”

A hospital employee summoned Cole, who went over to the counter while Annie waited with the others.

“I can't tell you how scared I was when he got shot,” she said, the remnants of fear still making her tremble. “He was so brave, facing Lockhart without a gun.”

Lily squeezed her hand. “Cole cares about you.”

An automatic denial came to Annie's lips. “It's not that,” she told Lily. “Cole and I—”

“Love each other,” Lily finished for her. “Be
lieve me, Ryan and I can recognize the signs when we see them, so don't waste your breath arguing. Work out the details with my son instead.”

Annie was about to sputter out another denial when Cole walked up.

“All set,” he said, waving a sheaf of papers.

“Why don't you both come out to the ranch with us,” Ryan suggested. “We were going to meet some friends for dinner later at The Oasis, but they'll understand when I explain the situation. You need to wind down and get some rest. Annie can stay the night.”

“I'll loan you a nightgown,” Lily said.

“Ryan, I appreciate your bringing Mom to see me, but now I want you to go on with your plans,” Cole said with a sidelong look at the officer who was waiting patiently. “Annie and I have some business at the station. I'll fill you both in later.”

For a moment, Ryan looked as though he was about to argue. Then he glanced at Lily, who was watching him with worried eyes. To Annie, she appeared brittle enough to shatter. “If you're sure that's what you want,” Ryan said finally.

“I think it would be for the best.”

“Are you really okay?” Lily asked him, resting a hand lightly on his sling.

Her concern seemed to affect him deeply. “Yeah, Mom, I'm fine,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “I've just got some stuff to take care of.”

“All right,” Ryan agreed. “Come on, honey, let's leave these two to do their jobs.”

“I think they've both earned more today than we could ever repay.” She gave Cole another careful hug, and then Annie. “Don't forget what I said,” she murmured.

“What's that?” Cole asked suspiciously.

“Nothing!” both women exclaimed as Annie's cheeks grew hot.

Was Lily right? Did Cole love her?

 

Hours later, Cole and Annie walked up to Ryan's table at the restaurant decorated like an opulent tent straight out of
The Arabian Nights.
The four people seated there looked up with surprise and concern on their faces.

“Is everything all right?” Lily demanded, reaching for Cole's hand.

Cole was exhausted, his arm throbbing dully, but his face broke into the grin he'd been struggling to suppress as he linked fingers with her and gently pulled her to her feet. Bussing her noisily on each cheek, he felt a lump rise in his throat as sudden, unexpected moisture blurred his vision.

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly, a smile trembling on her lips. “Good news?”

“The best. Lockhart confessed. The charges against you have been dropped.”

He watched her face go pale. “Lockhart really did kill her?”

“They were having an affair,” Cole replied.

“Oh, my.” She turned to Ryan, who had sprung to his feet. “No one deserves what she got.”

“Never mind that now,” he said. “We can't help her. It's your welfare I'm concerned with.”

“I'm really free?” she asked Cole, pressing her hand to her chest.

“As a bird! Thanks to Annie and her crackerjack investigating. She suspected Lockhart from the beginning.” She, too, was grinning like a fool, and Cole was surprised to see tear tracks on her cheeks.

With a
whoop,
Ryan caught his mother in a hug and spun her around, laughing like a hyena. “Now we can get married!” he exclaimed, kissing her soundly.

Applause burst out around them, startling Cole. He realized that many of the restaurant patrons had been eavesdropping shamelessly. The other couple at Ryan's table leaped up to congratulate Lily and shake Ryan's hand. After he performed belated introductions, they included Annie and Cole in their good wishes.

The waiter came over and Ryan spoke to him briefly. As the other man hurried off, he raised his glass and his voice. “Champagne for everyone.”

Amid the cheering and shouted good wishes, Ryan insisted that Cole and Annie join them. As soon as they were seated and trays of champagne were being circulated throughout the room, Ryan's expression sobered.

“You said that Clint actually confessed?” he asked Cole quietly.

“When the police told him they were bringing in his accomplice, Don Flynn, Clint started talking.”

“What was Flynn's part in this mess?” Ryan demanded grimly. “Damn it, the man's an employee of mine.”

“Flynn gave Lockhart an alibi for the night of the murder,” Annie explained. “He pretended to be Lockhart when someone knocked on the door to their room with a message about a phone call. Flynn told the police he woke up and looked at the clock, establishing the time. Now Lockhart has admitted to making the call from the hotel garage. The two of them set it up.”

“Why?” Ryan asked. “You mean, they actually planned to kill her?”

“I don't think so,” Annie said. “But Clint was spying for Sophia. He passed on to her whatever he could about your plans, about Lily. In exchange, she'd promised him part of her settlement from the divorce, but she kept stalling. Clint was getting impatient.”