Dade. Delores Fossen
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was going to be trouble with a capital T.
“I have to check on my baby,” she let them know.
Dade snagged her by the arm. “Have the nanny and Robbie stay in the bathroom, okay? This might not be over.”
As expected, the fear returned to her eyes. She swallowed hard, nodded and raced up the stairs.
“I’ll need to question you when you come back down,” Grayson called out to her.
Without looking back, she gave another shaky nod.
Dade wanted to hit himself in his fire-burning arm just to get his mind off this asinine need to comfort and to play nice with the one woman he shouldn’t want to comfort or play nice with.
The three of them watched her make her way up the stairs, and Dade waited for the lecture from his brothers. A lecture that would no doubt include a reminder to think with his brain and not with what was behind the zipper of his Wranglers. But the lecture didn’t come.
Not verbally anyway.
Grayson stepped away to give the medics some instructions, and then he took out his phone to call the county medical examiner, something Dade should have already thought to do.
“Did the dead guy give you any warning before he started shooting?” Mason asked.
Dade shook his head. “Kayla …” He considered calling her Ms. Brennan, but heck, the damage had already been done. “She refused protective custody, and I was on my way back to town when I figured out something was wrong. The guy opened fire before I could get back inside.”
Mason stayed quiet a moment, but his forehead bunched up. “She refused our help.” It wasn’t a question. Mason sort of growled it out in a disapproving way.
Dade shrugged and then winced when that sent another shot of fire through his arm. “Understandable. She doesn’t trust us. Just like we don’t trust her.”
Mason made a sound, one of his grunts that could have meant anything. Or nothing at all. “I’ll keep watch outside. We don’t need any more of Charles Brennan’s henchmen showing up here tonight.”
No, they didn’t. And it could happen all right. Dade figured there was no way Brennan was going to let Kayla get anywhere near a witness stand.
“I need to clean that wound,” Carrie let him know.
“Later.” Dade moved to the side so the medics could take the bodyguard out on the gurney. Grayson had finished with his call and Dade wanted an update. Thankfully, Carrie didn’t follow him.
“The M.E.’s on the way,” Grayson relayed. “And the rest of the deputies. Once they arrive, we can get Kayla and her baby out of here.”
Dade glanced at the pool of blood and the shards of glass on the glossy marble floor. Maybe that would convince her to accept protective custody and leave for someplace safer.
If a safe place actually existed.
“Did she say why she changed her mind about testifying and came back to Silver Creek?” Grayson asked.
Dade shook his head and looked in the direction of the footsteps he heard. Kayla was making her way back downstairs, and she was no longer wearing the blood-soaked dress. She’d put on black pants and a gray blouse. She’d also adjusted her attitude. No more threat of tears or sympathetic looks. She was sporting a first-class glare.
“How’s your son?” Dade asked, pleased that he would have to deal with the real Kayla rather than the damsel.
“He’s fine,” she snapped and then turned her attention to Grayson. “Someone obviously leaked my location,” she accused before she even reached them in the foyer.
“Seems that way,” Grayson admitted. “I suppose you think it was one of us.”
“I do.”
Dade stepped in front of his brother so he could finish this fight. “We have better things to do than endanger a witness. So that means the leak came from your side. Who knew you were coming here?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “You mean besides the Rylands?”
“Yeah, besides the cops.” Dade didn’t budge an inch. He met her eye-to-eye and practically foot-to-foot. But when she glanced down, Dade looked as well and saw the drop of his blood that had spattered onto one of her high-priced shoes.
“You need stitches,” Grayson grumbled.
“I need answers from Ms. Brennan,” Dade grumbled right back. But he did step slightly away so he wouldn’t bleed on her fancy clothes.
And speaking of clothes, she’d missed a button on the blouse. Why he noticed that now, he didn’t know.
Wait, yeah, he did know.
His male brain was too alert to the fact that Kayla was a woman. A woman with a gap in her blouse that allowed him a peek of the top of her right breast.
Dade did a double take.
She had a tattoo, a little pink heart right there on the swell of her breast.
Kayla made a soft sound of outrage, obviously noticing what had caught his attention, and she quickly buttoned her blouse as if she’d declared war on it.
“Your son’s nanny knew you were here,” Dade reminded her. He rolled up his shirt sleeve to put some pressure against his grazed arm.
She gave him a flat look. “My nanny is not responsible for this. She was in just as much danger as we were.”
Dade couldn’t argue with that. “So who else knew?”
Kayla wearily touched her fingers to her forehead. “My sister, Misty Wallace, but she wouldn’t have told anyone.”
Grayson and Dade exchanged glances, and Dade knew that Grayson would verify that as soon as he could.
Kayla noticed that glance and must have realized what it meant. “Don’t waste your time with my sister. I trust her with my life, and she would die rather than tell Charles where I am. Instead, investigate the D.A.,” she answered, her voice edged with anger.
“Winston Calhoun’s not in the business of killing witnesses, either,” Dade let her know, although he would check to make sure the D.A. hadn’t accidentally said the wrong thing to the wrong person. “I’ve known Winston my whole life. We can trust him.”
“Maybe not,” Kayla disagreed. “Is he rich like you and your family?”
“No.” And Dade didn’t like where this was going. “But not everyone can be bribed.”
“My former father-in-law has a knack for finding a person’s weak spot and getting his way.” There was no smugness in her statement, and a frustrated sigh left her mouth.
He couldn’t argue with that, either. “What about your sister, then? Is Misty dirty rich like you?”
Oh, that got a rise out of her. The anger flashed through her eyes. “This isn’t about Misty. It’s about Charles and whomever he could have bribed.”
“Maybe,” Dade concluded. “Then I’ll go back to my original question. Who knew you were coming here? A boyfriend? A lover?”
She shook her head and looked ready to slug him. “No, on both counts.”
“Your driver, then.” Dade tried again.
“I drove myself, and I didn’t tell anyone else where I was going.” She paused. She glanced around the foyer, her attention landing on Dade’s bloody arm. “I came here because I thought Charles would believe this was the last place I’d be.”
“Obviously you got that wrong,” Dade grumbled.
“Obviously,” she grumbled right back.
“Why