Видящий. Ярл. Валерий Пылаев
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of my cousins had houses built after they got married and started families of their own,” he explained. “My other cousin, Mason, lives in the main house with his wife and dad.”
“The one who’s getting married this weekend.”
“That’s right. Boone Ryland. He’s marrying a former deputy, Melissa Garza. She retired recently, and that’s how I got the job.”
Jaycee made an idle uh-huh sound, but her attention wasn’t on anything he’d pointed out, but rather the children in the fenced playground on the side of the main house.
“There’s so many of them,” she whispered. “It looks like a day care.”
It did. “They’re all kin. Last count, my cousins have nine offspring, and Mason and his wife have one on the way.”
And at the moment it seemed that all nine were out playing while a few of their moms watched.
Josh slowed when he reached the playground. The moms all waved. One of the kids, Kimmie, who was four years old, saw him and blew him a kiss.
“The little red-haired girl seems to like you,” Jaycee mumbled.
She did. Though Josh couldn’t understand why. He’d never been comfortable around kids, and they seemed to be uncomfortable around him. All except for Kimmie. That gave him a little hope that his own child might feel the same way.
He drove past the playground to the back part of the east pasture to a weathered-looking barn and pulled to a stop in front of it.
“You live here?” Jaycee asked, sounding skeptical and surprised.
Another dose of his version of normal. “The top floor’s been converted into an apartment. But if you like, I can get you a guest room in the main house.”
She glanced back in the direction of the children and their moms. Then the barn. “Your place will be fine.”
Josh bit back a smile. Barely. That’d been his reaction when he’d first returned home. “The kids grow on you,” he confessed.
At least that’s what he’d heard anyway.
He led her up the side stairs to the studio-style apartment. Even though the barn was isolated, it still had all the conveniences of a real house.
Jaycee paused in the doorway, her gaze moving over the room. But there wasn’t much to see. Other than the bathroom, it was just one big open space, with the modest kitchen and sitting area on one side and his bed on the other. There were clothes scattered on the floor. Dishes in the sink. Just the way he’d left it when he’d gone to work earlier.
“You haven’t been sleeping well,” she commented. Jaycee tipped her head to the unmade bed. The covers were in a tangled heap. His prescription pain meds were on the nightstand.
“Sometimes,” Josh settled for saying.
He went in, too, shutting the door behind them, and he tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter before he set the security alarm. A first for him since the ranch had always felt so safe, but nothing felt safe enough now.
“A security system in a barn?” she murmured.
“Yeah. Mason had it installed a few years ago after some intruders managed to get onto the grounds. Most of the buildings have security.”
That put some renewed fear on her face.
“It’s all right,” he assured her. “It was nothing recent. Nothing to be concerned about.”
But of course, they were both still concerned.
Jaycee inched across the room to the huge bay window at the far end of the room. It was late afternoon, and the butter-colored sun hit her just right to spotlight her.
Josh felt that punch of heat.
A punch he definitely didn’t want to feel but, like the other things going on in his head today, he couldn’t seem to push this one aside.
“Should we try to clear the air?” Jaycee asked with her back to him.
“No.” And he didn’t have to think about it. No way did he want to discuss the shooting with her. Besides, they were well past the air-clearing stage.
She turned, met his gaze. “Then at least let me say I’m sorry.”
He didn’t want to hear it, but it would have been petty to blast her for an apology that he couldn’t accept. Josh was still trying to figure out what to say when she crinkled her nose and slid her hand over her belly.
“Are you okay?” he quickly asked.
“It’s just the baby kicking.”
It didn’t seem to be a painful experience, and she certainly didn’t ask Josh to share it. Instead, she went to the bed and started fixing the covers.
“I think I’ll take a nap, if you don’t mind,” she said.
“Don’t mind at all.” And he went to the bed to help her straighten the sheets. To say this was an awkward moment was a huge understatement. Beds and Jaycee were never a good idea, even when it was the only option they had.
Thankfully, he had an immediate distraction. His phone made a soft dinging sound to indicate he had a text. Josh pulled it from his pocket and saw Grayson’s name on the screen.
This probably wasn’t good news. And it wasn’t short and sweet, either. It had an attachment. Grayson started by saying the reason he didn’t call was because he hadn’t wanted to wake Jaycee in case she was sleeping.
But there was a lot more than that in the message.
“You know the name Bryson Hillard?” Josh asked, reading through it.
Jaycee repeated the name, shook her head. “Never heard of him. Why?”
“The tech found his name on the laptop they recovered from the house.”
Another headshake. “Who is he?”
“A wealthy San Antonio businessman. No criminal record. Grayson plans to bring him in for questioning first thing in the morning.”
“I want to be there,” she insisted.
Josh didn’t try to talk her out of it. Heck, he wanted to be there, too. Because this was personal now. The idiot responsible had put his unborn child and countless others in danger, and if this Bryson Hillard had anything to do with it, Josh wanted to know. And confront him.
He scrolled through the rest of the email, and the reading came to a jarring halt when he saw the last sentence.
Hell.
He repeated the mental profanity when he opened the attachment.
“Once I take a nap,” Jaycee said, obviously not noticing his change of expression, “I’ll make some calls and find another place to stay.”
Josh finished reading the message before he went to the window and closed the blinds.
When he turned around, Jaycee was waiting, her mouth slightly open, and she had a white-knuckle grip on the bed post. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Josh debated how much he should tell her and decided she had to know the truth. “You can’t leave,” Josh told her. “You’ll have to stay here for the night, because those missing guards are looking for you. They left you a message nailed to the door of your old apartment.”
He walked closer and held up his phone for her to see the message that one of the deputies had photographed.
Jaycee’s gaze darted over the words, and she pressed her trembling fingers to her mouth. “Oh, God.”
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