Cowboy Commando. Joanna Wayne

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Cowboy Commando - Joanna Wayne


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a big assumption, Linney.”

      “Men kill their wives. I hear about cases like that all the time on those TV crime documentaries. And those are just the ones who get caught.”

      “Maybe so, but thousands of women leave abusive husbands every year. Very few of those husbands resort to murder.”

      “Then I guess Dane’s the exception.”

      “Have you seen him since Amy’s death?”

      “I saw him at Amy’s funeral, but didn’t get a chance to speak to him.”

      “When was that?”

      “Two days ago, on Monday afternoon.”

      “The same day you went to the police.”

      “Right. I attended the funeral with several of the other teachers from the school and more than one commented that Dane didn’t look like a man bereft because he’d just lost his wife. He didn’t shed a single tear. That added a lot of fuel to my suspicions.”

      “You can’t accuse a man of murder based on the flow of his tears, or the lack thereof.”

      “I’m not basing my accusation on any one thing. But when you put it all together, it’s obvious that the drowning was no accident.”

      “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’d agree that the drowning raises a few questions. What I don’t see is how you think being arrested for kidnapping is going to improve the situation.”

      “Do you have a better idea?”

      “Almost anything is better than that, unless you’re ready to go to jail to prove your point.”

      “Dane killed Amy,” Linney said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t get away with it. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

      “All I understand is that you are in big trouble, Linney. How long have you had Julie?”

      “Since four-thirty.”

      Dane checked his watch. “It’s after eight now. I can’t believe Dane hasn’t tried to get in touch with you.”

      “He doesn’t have my cell-phone number, and I haven’t been back to my house.”

      “He’s a cop. He could get your number.”

      “Then I don’t know why he hasn’t called. Maybe he’s just glad not to have his daughter around.”

      “More likely, every cop in this part of Texas is out looking for you.”

      Cutter reached over and laid his hands on top of hers. The touch was casual, almost incidental, yet it affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. It was as if his strength and support made her feel more vulnerable.

      She was swimming in dangerous waters, not only in the situation with Julie but in her own conflicted emotions regarding Cutter. She wasn’t the naive, gullible, nineteen-year-old coed she’d been six years ago. She didn’t need another relationship on a fast track to nowhere—no matter how hot and thrilling their brief fling had been.

      “I can see where you’re coming from, Linney, but kidnapping a detective’s kid is over-the-top. Even if some high-priced lawyer keeps you from going to prison, no school board is going to hire a teacher who’s been accused of kidnapping.”

      She hadn’t considered that, and she loved teaching.

      Cutter stood and walked back to the counter, leaning his backside against it and staring at her as if she were some disobedient private he was about to dress down.

      “I have a friend in the Houston Police Department, Linney. Goose Millburn and I were on the same SEAL team for my first two years in the service. I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I have on several occasions. I’d like to run the situation by him and get his take on this.”

      “His take will be that I return Julie and we’ll be right back where we started—with Dane getting away with murder.”

      Cutter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started punching in numbers.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

      “Calling Goose.”

      Linney’s temper flared. “I didn’t agree to that.”

      He turned away, but kept punching in numbers. Linney jumped on his back and tried to wrestle the phone from his hand. Her right foot hit the table and the two empty plates went crashing to the floor. Her fingers stayed wound around the phone.

      A whimper came from the doorway. When Linney looked up, Julie was standing just inside the kitchen, clutching in her tiny hands the teddy bear she never slept without. Her eyes were wide with fear. Linney let go of the phone and slid from Cutter’s back.

      “We’re not fighting, sweetheart. We’re just playing around, aren’t we, Cutter?” She kissed him on the cheek to prove her point to the bewildered and frightened tot.

      Cutter’s arm closed around her and his hand splayed around her shoulder. He was merely playing along with her attempt to reassure Julie, but something warm and unexpected zinged along Linney’s nerve endings.

      She jerked away. She’d had six years to get over her meaningless sexual marathon with Cutter. Whatever she felt now was just some kind of poorly timed reflex brought on by her own desperation.

      Julie crept closer, her stuffed toy held tight against her chest and her gaze cast toward the floor.

      “I guess we don’t have to make the call this instant,” Cutter said. “Get Julie settled again, and then we’ll eat. No use letting good pasta go to waste.”

      “Thanks.” It was merely a reprieve, but that was better than a phone call to the cops. It would give her time to think and decide what she wanted to do. She figured she had about half an hour before she had to make her next move.

      She didn’t have a clue what that would be.

      THEY BARELY SPOKE through dinner. What else was there to say? Cutter had given his ultimatum. Call Goose or take Julie home. Arguing with him would be a waste of time, and Linney wasn’t about to beg.

      She tried to force down a few bites of the food, but it stuck in her dry throat. Cutter, on the other hand, went back for seconds. Apparently, his impatience and irritation with her had little effect on his appetite.

      She glanced at her watch, the extravagant diamond-studded Rolex Al had given her for their second wedding anniversary. She’d never liked it. “It’s almost time for the nine o’clock news. I’d like to see if they mention a kidnapping.”

      “You finish eating. I’ll turn on the TV.” Cutter took his plate to the kitchen, rinsed it beneath the spray of the faucet and left it in the sink before flicking on the set.

      Linney tensed, as the blond female anchor looked grimly into the camera to deliver the night’s teaser.

      “A double homicide in Green’s Harbor has left three children orphans and set off a massive manhunt for two unidentified suspects who held a family hostage for nearly two hours this afternoon.”

      No mention of a kidnapping or an Amber Alert. So Dane hadn’t reported his daughter missing. And he hadn’t tried to call her. It didn’t add up.

      “And this just in…”

      Linney’s attention spiked again.

      “Income tax fraud charges are expected to be filed tomorrow against furniture magnate Al Kingston. Stay tuned for these and other important happenings from the Houston area.”

      Linney had just stood to carry her own plate to the sink. The fork she’d balanced on the edge clattered and fell to the tiled kitchen floor, spraying her blouse with red sauce on the way down. She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed, spreading the stain.

      Cutter


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