Classified Cowboy. Mallory Kane
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have to—” Oh. For a second she’d thought he was getting out to walk her to the door. But that wasn’t it. His jaw action earlier hadn’t been because she’d changed the subject. “Don’t tell me you’re staying here, too? Well, isn’t that … convenient.” She sighed. She’d finagled herself onto this project, knowing she’d have to put up with Wyatt Colter. Relishing the opportunity.
He’d been so arrogant two years ago, pushing Marcie to testify against Jonah Becker and assuring her that she didn’t have to worry. That as long as she was under the protection of the Texas Rangers, she’d be safe.
Marcie had trusted him. Everyone had. And no wonder. Not only did the very large, reassuring shadow of the Texas Rangers envelop the entire state of Texas and everyone in it, but Wyatt Colter himself exuded competence, assurance, safety.
It was the first thing Nina had noticed about him when she’d met him back then.
From his honed jaw and the cleft in his chin to his confident, deceptively casual stance, from his intense blue eyes to the long, smooth muscles that rippled with reined-in power beneath his clothes, he was the perfect personification of the Texas Rangers. And as long as he was guarding Marcie, nothing could possibly happen to her. He’d promised her.
Well, something had happened.
And it was Wyatt Colter’s fault. Her best friend was gone—likely dead—because he’d never once doubted his ability to keep her safe.
When Nina had called in a favor to get on this task force, she hadn’t thought any further than her determination to be a thorn in Lieutenant Colter’s side and to find justice for Marcie. She hadn’t bargained on spending this much time this close to him.
Still, at least this way she could keep an eye on him.
While Nina’s thoughts whirled, Wyatt got out of the Jeep and headed for the front porch. As he climbed up the steps, it started raining again. He removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh, then glanced back at her before disappearing inside.
She could read his thoughts as easily as if they were printed in a cartoon bubble above his head.
Open your own door. No double standard for Wyatt Colter. If she wanted in on the task force in place of George Mayfield, then she should expect to be treated like him or any other member of the team.
Little did he know, that was fine with her. Gestures like opening doors, holding seats, paying for dinner all came with strings attached. And Nina didn’t like strings.
She was here in an official capacity. She expected to be treated like any other member of the task force. While it was true that there was a chance that the site could turn out to be archeologically significant, Nina wanted nothing more than to find out what had happened to Marcie.
Well, that and to keep an eye on Colter. Not that she thought he was less than honest and aboveboard. She just didn’t want to take any chances. This find could remove the haunting grief that had enveloped her for the past two years.
Marcie and she had been paired as roommates at Texas State, and despite their very different personalities, they’d become fast friends. Marcie had been there for Nina when Nina’s father died and when her brother was killed in combat in Iraq. She’d been Nina’s family. There was no way Nina was going to pass up this chance to find out what had happened to her friend.
The town was split. Half of the people thought Marcie had been killed. Her kidnapping had never resulted in a ransom notice. She and her mysterious kidnapper had just disappeared.
The other half figured she had got cold feet and arranged the kidnapping herself to get out of testifying against Jonah Becker, one of the most powerful men in the state of Texas. But if Marcie were alive, why hadn’t she contacted anyone in all this time?
Of course, Nina wanted Marcie to be alive and well, but there was one huge obstacle to that theory. If Marcie had arranged her own kidnapping, that meant she was responsible for shooting Texas Ranger Wyatt Colter.
And Marcie wouldn’t have done that. Nina couldn’t see her shooting anyone. Not even to save her own skin.
Through the glass front door of the Bluebonnet Inn, Nina saw Wyatt glance back toward her. With a wry smile, Nina opened the passenger door and climbed out, leaving her forensics kit on the floorboard at her feet. She hefted her weekend bag by its handles.
Wyatt was disappearing up the dark polished stairs by the time she got to the front desk.
“Hey there,” the round-faced woman said on a yawn. She’d obviously been asleep until Wyatt had slammed the front door. “I’m Betty Alice Sadler. Welcome to the Bluebonnet Inn. Can I help you?”
“Nina Jacobson. I have a reservation. I apologize for getting here so late.”
“That’s all right,” the woman said, tapping the keyboard with her index finger. “I’m always happy to have a guest. Let me just look here.”
Nina sighed. “Oh, I forgot. The reservation is in the name of George Mayfield, Texas State University Anthropology Department.”
“Ah. Of course.” Betty Alice eyed her curiously. “This is about those bodies on Jonah Becker’s place.” In Betty Alice’s Texas drawl, the word bodies sounded sinister. “Will Mr. Mayfield be joining you?”
“No.” Nina didn’t see any need to explain.
However, Betty Alice obviously thought she deserved an explanation. She waited for a few seconds, hoping to get one, but Nina just stood there calmly.
“Well,” Betty Alice drawled finally and hit a few more keys. “I’ll need your ID.”
Nina handed over her driver’s license and glanced at her watch. Betty Alice yawned again and sped up the check-in process. Apparently she was ready to get back to sleep.
She handed Nina a room key—a real key, to room 204 on the second floor. “If I’d known you would be here instead of—” Betty Alice glanced at the computer screen “—Mr. Mayfield, I could have given you the pink room. I keep it for my female guests.”
Nina winced inwardly as she pictured how the pink room would be decorated. She didn’t need a pink room. She just needed a room. She was exhausted, and eight o’clock was going to come very early.
“That’s very nice of you, but I’m sure room two-oh-four will be fine. Do you have Wi-Fi?”
Betty Alice beamed at her. “We surely do. My niece hooked it up—or whatever you do with Wi-Fi. And it’s complimentary.”
Nina thanked her and headed up the stairs.
“Say, Nina Jacobson.”
She turned around to find the woman pointing a finger at her. “I thought I recognized you. You were Marcie’s friend. I remember you were staying here when she disappeared and that Texas Ranger got shot.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Nina said, forcing a smile.
“Oh, my goodness.” Betty Alice’s hand flew to her mouth. “I remember him, too. Lieutenant Colter was the one who got shot.”
Nina nodded, doing her best to suppress a yawn.
“Oh, honey, run along. Here I am, just talking away, and you’re asleep on your feet.” Betty Alice shooed her toward the stairs and turned around to head back to her own room behind the desk.
When Nina got to the second floor, Wyatt was holding a full ice bucket in one hand and pushing his key into the lock of room 202 with the other.
He turned his head and his offhand glance morphed into annoyance as his eyes lit on the key in her hand.
“That’s right,” she said, brandishing the key with a gaiety she didn’t feel. “Howdy, neighbor.”
He scowled. “Good night,” he said and went into his room and closed the door.