Natural-Born Protector. Carla Cassidy
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I can trust you?” she asked. Some of the fervor left her eyes and she suddenly looked small and vulnerable.
“You know any of the West family?” he asked.
“I know them on sight and by reputation. I know they work in the bodyguard business. Why?”
“Dalton West is an old friend of mine. One of the reasons I decided to make the move from Texas to Cotter Creek was so I could go to work for them. At the moment I’m waiting to be assigned to my first job with them.”
Maybe four months of boredom was getting to him, or maybe he was jumping into her drama because he had genuinely grown to care for Lainie. “Maybe we could help each other,” he continued. “It sounds to me like you intend to talk to people and go places that might put a single, attractive woman at risk. You could use a bodyguard, and I could use some practice at being a bodyguard.”
“So, you want to be my bodyguard in training?” A small smile curved her lips.
He returned her smile. “Something like that.”
Once again she wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and eyed him soberly. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally.
He nodded and told himself it really didn’t matter to him whether she took his offer of help or not. Eventually the killer would be caught and Melody Thompson would return to her life in Chicago.
And he’d keep putting one foot in front of the other and try to figure out how to keep going when the only woman he’d ever loved was gone.
Melody stared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She scarcely recognized the woman who looked back at her. Tight jeans molded to her and the bright turquoise blouse fit her like a second skin, the plunging neckline revealing far more flesh than she was used to showing.
If she was going to hang out at the Edge, then it was important for her to blend in with the clientele that frequented the bar on the edge of town. Her conservative clothes would set her apart, draw attention that she didn’t want, so she’d raided Lainie’s closet for something appropriate.
Her hand trembled slightly as she raised it to smooth an errant strand of hair away from her face. She knew that she might be asking questions tonight that could make somebody nervous.
She turned away from the mirror and checked her wristwatch. Almost nine. Hank would be here soon to accompany her to the bar.
She wasn’t sure why she trusted Hank Tyler, but she did. There was something solid about him. She liked his direct gaze and the straight answers he’d given her over coffee. Besides, he was working for the West family. That went a long way in alleviating any fear she might have that he was a nut.
After she’d left the café and Hank that afternoon, she’d gone straight to the sheriff’s office and met with Zack West. He’d assured her that they were doing everything in their power to find Lainie’s killer.
“But I’ll be straight with you, Melody. We don’t have any real leads and your sister didn’t have a conventional lifestyle.”
“The night of the murder she left a message on my answering machine and told me she was going out with somebody new. I don’t suppose you’ve identified who that might have been?” she’d asked.
Zack shook his head, his green eyes sympathetic. “Not yet. But I’ve told your mother and I’m telling you, I won’t rest until we have the killer behind bars.”
She’d left the office satisfied that Zack and his men were doing everything they could to solve the crime, but unsure just how successful they would be.
As irrational as it was, she felt as if she were the only one who could find the answers. She was the one who had known Lainie better than anyone and she owed it to her sister to help her rest in peace. The only way that would happen was if Lainie’s murderer was found and punished.
The soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she hurried to answer. Hank had underdressed for the night as well. Clad in tight worn jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, he looked both slightly dangerous and capable of handling anything that might come his way.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as she grabbed her purse from the sofa.
“Are you sure you want to?” she countered.
He flashed her a small smile. “I’m in if you are.”
“Then let’s go.” She locked the door behind her and together they left the building and walked out into the warm night air.
“We’ll take my car,” he said as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “If we run into any problems I know mine has the horsepower we need to make a fast getaway.” He gestured toward a bright red sports car, a larger model that seated four.
“Definitely better horsepower than my rental,” she agreed. “Are you expecting trouble?”
He shrugged. “I like to be a good Boy Scout and be prepared for anything.” He opened the passenger door and she slid inside, then watched as he went around the front of the car to the driver’s side.
She drew a tremulous sigh. Hank Tyler had been attractive in his dress slacks and shirt, but he looked like pure sin in those jeans and T-shirt. His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead and only added to his lethal look.
“You don’t need that kind of distraction,” she muttered to herself as he slid in behind the steering wheel.
Fastening her seat belt, she tried to ignore the scent of him, a pleasant fragrance that reminded her of sunshine and sandalwood. “You must have moved into the town houses right around the time Lainie did,” she said, determined to keep her focus on the matter at hand.
He started the engine with a roar and pulled out onto the street. “She moved in a couple of weeks before me and Maddie. The first night we were there she brought over a little basket of soaps she’d collected from hotel rooms over the years.” He smiled. “She said she didn’t have any fruit and refused to bake a cake, but wanted to welcome us and bring us something. Maddie still uses the soaps. She says they’re just her size.”
A new edge of grief crawled up in the back of Melody’s throat as she thought of her sister. “Lainie loved hotel soap and shampoo. When any of us stayed at a hotel, we always grabbed the freebies for her.”
They cruised slowly down Main Street and Melody looked at him curiously. “Where were you before coming here? You mentioned something about Texas?”
“Just south of Dallas. My grandfather was an Oklahoma oil man, and when he passed away he left me an embarrassingly large inheritance. I used it to buy a ranch. I raised cattle and horses.”
“What made you decide to leave it all and come back to Cotter Creek?”
In the illumination from the dashboard she saw his hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. “My wife died.” The words fell flat, with no other information offered.
It was obviously a topic he didn’t want to discuss. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Thanks.”
They were silent for several minutes. So, he wasn’t a stranger to grief, she thought. She realized that’s what he’d meant earlier when he’d told her that his daughter had suffered enough loss in her life.
Her heart ached for Maddie, who had lost a mother so early in life. Melody knew what it was like to lose a parent. She’d lost her father when she’d been ten, and while Fred had stepped in as a father figure and support, it would never be the same as having her own dad in her life.
A new tension filled her as Hank turned off the main road and onto a gravel road that led to the Edge. Was she foolish