Blame It on Texas

by Christie Craig

  However, she knew all his flaws, every single one of them. How he made lists to the point of being compulsive, how he was a bit of a nerd, how he had a whacky family that occasionally made his life hell. She’d seen him at his worst, when he was angry. And she’d stood up for him at the police station that day. So what would she say to him if he told her he loved her? Would she take a chance on him? Did he deserve her? Would she end up walking away from him like Lisa had?

  The first thing Tyler did after sunrise was to call someone to come out and replace Zoe’s windshield. The second thing he did was to inform Dallas about Windsor. Austin hadn’t arrived yet.

  “I’m going over there now,” Tyler added.

  “I’ll go with you,” Dallas said.

  “No.” Tyler put his gun in his holster.

  Dallas looked at him. “I hate to say this, but you look like shit. I heard what happened. Is your sister okay?”

  No, he thought. She was in love. And love was killing her. Just like it was killing him. “Yeah, it sucks.”

  “I think I should tag along.”

  “I’m fine. Stay here and watch Zoe. Even if Windsor tries anything, he’s fat and slow, I think I can take him.”

  “Even fat old men can pull a trigger.”

  “He’s right.” Austin appeared at the doorway. “About both things. You look like shit and you’re not going alone.”

  Zoe was still sleeping when Tyler went to check on her the last time. He left her a note on the bedside table. Got someone working on your windshield. Need to run out. Be back soon. We need to talk. I’m sorry. He put a couple of Xs and Os and then drew a heart. He hoped that would be her first clue as to what he wanted to talk to her about. But damn, it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Dallas followed Tyler to Windsor’s home, a not-so-good house, in a not-so-good subdivision. The house, like the neighborhood, was run-down. No one answered the door, and his car wasn’t in the garage. They hung out for an hour before deciding to go to the Bradford mansion to see if he’d gone in. He wasn’t there, either.

  But Mrs. Daniels was in. Tyler questioned her about why she’d sent one of the security guards to warn off Zoe. She claimed she’d heard her father chatting with the PI about checking the redhead out, and she worried her father might be involved with a young bimbo like he had been several years ago. So when she saw Zoe following the limo, she’d thought she could take care of it herself. Sadly, he believed her. Especially when he realized she hadn’t been looking out for her father, but his money.

  Tyler left there to take Sam to the police station to take out a restraining order against Leo. He wasn’t certain, but his gut said that Sam might mean it this time. She even told him she was going in for counseling.

  He’d tried to call Zoe, but she hadn’t picked up. Was she angry? Or maybe just visiting with Ellen?

  It was after one when Tyler got back to the office. He wanted to make sure the repair guys did a good job on Zoe’s car, but it wasn’t there.

  His breath caught. As he ran inside to find her, he told himself to relax. Zoe probably had someone take the car in to get the graffiti removed.

  Ellen wasn’t at the front desk. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to make polite conversation, Tyler headed into the apartment. The knot of worry in his stomach would dissolve as soon as he saw her. But she wasn’t in the living room. She wasn’t in the kitchen, the bathroom, or the bedroom. Heart in his throat, he looked in the corner of the bedroom where she’d set up the litter box.

  It was gone.

  He saw a note on the bedside table. Chest hurting, he picked it up. Thanks. You were right, it was fun. Make sure you send me the bill.

  She’d left. Left him. “Fuck,” he said when he realized that the reason he couldn’t find Windsor was because the asshole might be following Zoe right now.

  Tyler picked up the phone and dialed her number. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t pick up. He just hoped like hell it was because she was mad at him and not because Windsor had gotten to her first.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ZOE HAD CRIED as she drove out of the Only in Texas parking lot. She was also crying when she passed a sign welcoming her to Louisiana three hours later, and still crying when she hit the Mississippi line. She finally got herself under control around Hattiesburg.

  Lucky meowed, and at the next rest stop, Zoe pulled over, filled the small litter box with litter, and let Lucky out of his carrier.

  Giving him some privacy, she got back in the front seat. He climbed over the seat, put his paws on her chest, and rubbed his chin against hers. She started crying again.

  After a few minutes of sobbing, she looked at her phone. She had sixteen voice mails. She could guess who they were from, too. She still checked.

  Much to her surprise, one wasn’t from Tyler. She listened to it. It was her school principal. Zoe played the message.

  “Just wanted to call and check in. Also, a Mrs. Matthews called looking for you. Her mom was a teacher here for years and she was friends with your mom. Anyway, her mom passed away a few months ago.”

  Zoe remembered. She hadn’t been told in time to make the funeral, but she’d sent a card and some flowers.

  “Anyway, she said she was cleaning out her mom’s things and found something that she thinks belongs to you.”

  Zoe couldn’t guess what it was, not that she cared. Unless it happened to be an extra heart, because hers was completely broken.

  The second the message ended, her phone rang. Closing her eyes, she debated the wisdom of talking to him. She supposed she had to sooner or later.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Where are you?” He sounded panicked. “Are you okay?”

  Hearing his voice, her eyes filled with more tears.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Mississippi. Halfway home.”

  “Christ. Zoe. Look, Windsor is missing. He could be following you right now!”

  Still parked at the rest stop, Zoe’s heart jerked. She looked in the rearview mirror.

  “What kind of car does he drive?”

  “A red Honda.” He rattled off a license plate.

  Zoe looked back. Cars zipped past. “He’s not following me.”

  “You don’t know for sure.”

  “He’s not here, Tyler. I’m looking.”

  He sighed. “Okay, I just crossed over the Louisiana line.”

  “You’re where?”

  “Louisiana. I want you to turn around and drive toward me. And we’ll find a spot to meet in the middle.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Windsor might be following you.”

  “I told you, he’s not following me.” She looked again to be sure.

  “Christ! There’s my phone. It’s Dallas. He might have news. I’ll call you right back. Will you pick up?”

  She hesitated. “Yeah.”

  He clicked off. Zoe put Lucky up, and with one tear-filled eye on the road, and one on her rearview mirror, she continued toward Alabama.

  “What you got?” Tyler asked.

  “We found Windsor,” Dallas said.

  “What did that bastard say?”

  “Nothing. He ate his gun. Left a note.”

  Tyler couldn’t say he was sorry. “Did he confess?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t read it, but Tony and Rick were called to the scene. Officer Dean and another cop as well as Ralph Adams’s names were mentioned.”

  “Fuck.” He’d hoped Zoe’s dad wouldn’t have anything to do with this. “Okay, I’ve got to call Zoe.”

  “Has she answered her phone?”

  “Just now.”

  “Is she headed home like you thought?”

  “Yes,” Tyler said.

  “What are you going to do?” Dallas asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Tyler called Zoe back. She answered on the second ring. “Did he have news?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Windsor killed h
imself.”

  “Oh, God!” she said.

  “He left a note confessing.”

  He heard her catch her breath. “What all did he say?”

  “I don’t have the details.” He hesitated to tell her, but he knew she wanted the truth. “But Tony told Dallas that his letter mentioned Officer Dean, the cop who was murdered, another cop, and your dad.”

  “My dad was part of the kidnapping?”

  “I don’t know, Zoe. That’s all I know.”

  She hiccupped again.

  “I’m Googling a meeting place now.”

  “Why?” The word came out low.

  “You’re upset.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  “We need to talk,” he countered.

  “About what?”

  His gut twisted. “You didn’t even say good-bye.” Neither had Lisa. He’d come home from the first day of the trial and she’d moved out. He’d had to chase her down to find out why. And now he was chasing Zoe.

  “Good-bye,” Zoe said.

  “Zoe… please.”

  She hung up. When he called back, she didn’t answer.

  Tyler drove all the way to Mississippi until he realized he was a fool. Zoe had left. Why the hell was he doing this?

  On Wednesday Tyler called, and Zoe let it go to voice mail. She did listen to it, and God help her, she’d hoped he might say something crazy about how he loved her and couldn’t live without her. Instead, he told her the DNA test came back. She was Caroline Bradford. Zoe cried. He told her about the note. Her dad hadn’t been involved in the kidnapping, but Windsor suspected he’d killed Dean, probably to save her. And the other cop who’d been involved had died several years back.

  Later that day, she went to school and told her boss she could start the next day. She needed to do something besides cry. And the only thing she could think she wanted to do was walk into a schoolroom and have sixteen five-year-olds who would look up with adoration.

  Before she left, her principal asked if she’d called Helen Matthews. “She called two more times.”

  Now curious, Zoe called her and then drove straight to her house.

  Helen handed Zoe a metal box. On it was her mom’s name and a note that said, “Give to Zoe.”

  “I don’t understand,” Zoe said.

  “I found it under Mom’s bed when I was cleaning out the house. I tried opening it, but it has a combination lock. It doesn’t feel as if much is in there, but it felt important.”

  “How long has she had it?” Zoe asked, suspicious that in the box were answers she’d thought she’d never have.

  “I don’t know, but my mom’s been suffering from Alzheimer’s for years. It was slow coming on, but we’ve known about it for a long time. I’m assuming that your mom gave it to her before she died. Unfortunately, Mom’s memory was already going downhill then.”

  Zoe hugged the box and started for the door. “Thank you.”

  Helen smiled. “You’re welcome. When you get it open, tell me what’s there. I’m curious.”

  Zoe nodded, but she didn’t promise. She wasn’t sure she wanted to taint her mom’s reputation. As crazy as it sounded, Zoe didn’t care what she learned. As far as she was concerned, her mom and dad had done her a huge favor by taking her away from the Bradfords.

  Thursday afternoon, Rick tossed a load of whites into the machine; both he and Ricky were out of underwear. The last four days had been crazy. A good crazy. Things with Ellen were fantastic. They were meeting back at his place every day at lunch and feeding on each other instead of fast food. Things with his son were better, but not great. Ricky still didn’t laugh when he read to him, and getting him to talk was like pulling teeth. But every day was a little bit better.

  In addition, he’d had two new homicides and had called Ellen twice to beg her to pick up Ricky for him until he could get away. He didn’t know what he would do without her. Frankly, he didn’t want to find out. He knew he was falling in love with her, but it was happening so fast it was scary. And with her unresolved issues with Britney’s father, nothing felt solid.

  When Rick walked out of the kitchen, Ricky wasn’t on the sofa watching television anymore. “Ricky?”

  The boy mumbled something from his room, so Rick started for the sofa to veg before packing Ricky’s lunch for tomorrow. Being a parent wasn’t for wimps.

  He’d just about landed on his butt when he spotted the dining room chair in front of the bookshelf. Had Ricky gotten a book? His gut clenched when he remembered what else was on that shelf. The key to his gun safe.

  His gaze went to the safe. The door wasn’t open. He still popped up to check. He passed his hand over the spot, and the key wasn’t there.

  His gaze shot to the safe again, and from this angle he could see the door was ajar.

  “Christ!” He started running toward Ricky’s room, and that’s when the gun went off.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  RICK’S HEART STOPPED BEATING. Tears filled his eyes as he pushed open the door. Ricky sat on the bed.

  Rick lunged at Ricky and ran his hands up and down the kid’s body looking for blood. “Are you okay? Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the boy screamed, and tried to pull away.

  Rick didn’t stop until he convinced himself Ricky wasn’t hit. At first he didn’t see the boy’s tears. Rick didn’t realize he was crying, either, until he felt the wetness on his face.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” his son sobbed.

  Rick sat on the bed and picked the boy up and wrapped him in his arms. “It’s okay.” And then Rick started sobbing with his son.

  The boy stopped screaming, and Rick realized his son was hugging him around his neck. Finally, the kid pulled away and stared up. “Are you crying because you’re mad at me?”

  “No, son. I’m crying because I love you so much, and if you’d gotten hurt, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”

  His bottom lip quivered. “I just wanted to help Ellen.”

  Rick wiped his cheeks. “Help Ellen what?”

  “If she had a gun, then maybe Britney’s father wouldn’t be so mean to her. Britney says he’s always like that to her. That he never says nice things to her like you do. And she was right, he wasn’t nice.”

  “What? Did you see Britney’s father?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, he came to see Britney, and when he went to leave, he and Ellen walked outside. We hid under the living room window and heard him talking to Ellen. He treated her like the bad men who always yelled at Mom. She told him to just leave. But he told her he had a right to be there with his daughter. He said an ugly word, too. And he didn’t even apologize like you did.”

  When Ricky fell asleep, Rick paced his apartment until he decided he had to do it. Not him personally, but it had to be done. He snatched up his cell phone and called Tyler. “What do you need?” Tyler asked, sounding even more miserable than he’d sounded these last few days.

  Rick dropped down in a chair. “You know how you kept trying to pay me for things?”

  “You need some money?”

  “No, I need a job done. I’d do it myself, but with Ricky and work, I’m booked. And it might take some time.”

  Zoe set the box on her kitchen table and got a knife to pry it open. Then setting the knife down, she punched the date of her birthday into the combination. It opened. Inside she found several newspaper clippings about the kidnapping—the one with her picture on the tire swing—and about her real parents’ plane crash. Beneath that was a letter. She recognized her mother’s handwriting. Zoe’s chest grew heavy.

  Dear Zoe,

  I’m a coward, or I would have told you this myself. Your father had planned to tell you when you were eighteen. But when I lost him, I just couldn’t imagine losing you, and I was afraid if you learned the truth, you’d hate me.

  But how do I tell you that you are not my daughter when in my heart, you are. You are the most precious gift I’ve ever known, an
d I have loved you like my own. But the truth is that you are not my biological child. Even as I write this now, my heart is breaking in fear that you will not understand. That you will blame me and your father. Please, baby, let me explain before you toss away the love you hold for us.

  Our little girl, Zoe Adams, died at four months old. We had resigned ourselves to not having any more children. And it was not easy for us, because having children had been a dream for both of us. Then one day your dad brought home a very scared little redheaded girl and a story that was almost too hard to believe.

  His cousin, Marcus Dean, had become a cop and moved to Miller, Texas. Another of your dad’s friends, Randall Windsor, moved up there as well. Both these men, in spite of his cousin being a cop, were not good men. Your father would still meet them and their friends once a year to fish or hunt. On one trip, they were drunk and came to your father with a crazy idea for a get-rich plan. They wanted to kidnap a little girl and get the ransom money.

  Your father thought they were just drunk. But a few months later, he read in the paper about a kidnapping. He didn’t want to call the police in case it was just a weird coincidence. So he tried to call his cousin. He never answered. He finally reached Marcus’s girlfriend who told him that Dean was in Barker, at the family’s lake house.

  Your dad found his cousin drunk and talking out of his head. He said things had gone bad, that you had seen someone’s face, and they were going to have to take care of the problem. He said Windsor had gotten cold feet and just wanted to let you go, but the other guy involved insisted they had to kill you or they’d all go to prison.

  Your dad couldn’t let him do that. They argued and Marcus pulled a gun. They fought and he accidentally killed his own cousin.