Lassoing The Last Dance (Double Dutch Ranch; Love At First Sight Book 4)

by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

  “I hope you’re right, cowboy. Maybe it’s just you who’s happy this girl is back.”

  “Matters not. I know I’m right because I’ve heard it firsthand over at Rob’s Place. You remember Rob Adams. He used to work at a bar in A.J., but recently bought his own in town here.”

  She remembered him. “We went to school together. I had re-met him at Tristan and Nora’s well over a year ago, and I had lunch with him in town the day of Nora’s dinner.”

  “Uh huh.” He kissed her on the forehead and gave her a squeeze. “Let’s get those airline tickets to Tulsa. I missed going there to see my Okie girl who had always been an Arizonan at heart.”

  Roxanne smiled. It was true. She had always called Arizona home, always would. “I’ll reserve a rental car. How about you go take care of that nasty bite. It’s oozing.”

  “Rental truck or SUV will work better. Consider me your chauffeur.”

  “Will do. You might even get a big tip.” Now she knew why she took his eyes as being blue all those months ago. Like that day, today he wore a blue shirt that reflected on his eyes and gave the same hue. One of his lovely brown eyes closed in a slow wink, causing her to smile. The vision of a possible new future took over her thinking, though something hellish awaited her.

  She’d get through this like she’d gotten through it all. Will I? Yes! No way was she about to give up on finding those men. Seeing Nate locked up had become her life goal. She slid her hand across Randy’s abdomen while he held her. “I missed you a lot.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  A rousing inside of her came to life. This hadn’t happened in a long time. Their kiss last night woke up what had been hidden. His body drew her toward him, and called her like it had before, albeit she had kept it under control. Why had they never made love? Because you kept it in control! They’d practically been strangers. Each time of visiting, it was like they had to start all over. Then it was time to part again, but there were some heated nights before their weekends ended.

  The prior eight months without communication didn’t help. Still, she had her answer the evening he knocked on her door. There he stood that evening, a cowboy Adonis with hope in his eyes. She didn’t want to control anything anymore. “Randy?”

  Using one finger to slide a lock of hair away from her face, he peered at her. “Yeah?”

  Roxanne stuck her fingers into the opening between the buttons on his shirt to touch his flesh. “I want to make love to you.”

  He released her, sat forward, and placed his hand high on her thigh. “Okay, but before you go any further, you need to—”

  “Tomorrow night when our plane lands, I don’t want separate rooms. I’ll try to be as straightforward as I can be concerning my injury.” Saying the words came easy. Doing so would be a challenge. Regardless, she wanted him to know her as a passionate woman.

  He slid his hand up her arm. “I don’t want you to get your own room, darlin’. Tomorrow night I’d love to have you naked in my bed, but you need to get through this crap first. I won’t take advantage of you when you’re at such a low.”

  It’s okay! Tingles tiptoed, no ran a race down her spine. She leaned forward, caressed his cheek, and with a slant to her head, she kissed him. It turned into a hot and heavy, sexy kiss. Bells and whistles went off in her head. Randy stuck his fingers into her hair, leading the way like in a dance, but this was his mouth pressed against hers, nipping and titillating her lips with gentle tugs.

  He barely brushed his tongue against hers, only enough to tease as if in making love before pulling it away. Kissing him was like being at the top of a Ferris wheel. The way your belly lurched after the wheel began to move again, is what her stomach experienced.

  Tomorrow night, hell, she nearly screamed out, but instead of speaking it out loud, she said it with her kiss. If he carried her to the bedroom right now, she wouldn’t say no.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he drew away and sat up straight. He looked deep into her eyes as if contemplating whether he should, in fact, take her to his bed, or shouldn’t. His gentleman cowboy must’ve won, but deep inside of him, lurked a bad-to-the-bone sensual man. She rested her palm against his shoulder. She wanted to enjoy that same bad-gentleman in her bed.

  “I told you the real Roxanne was inside there.” With a sexy, lopsided grin, he placed his hand over her heart. “Let her stay around, but don’t use sex to mask your problems. Why the hell did I just say that? I want you like peanut butter wants chocolate, woman.”

  She smiled as she slid her hand around his waist. Roxanne hoped he was right about finding the real her inside. She still had to get through the next few days, and to endure whatever else lay ahead concerning her case. Right now, Randy was here and willing to go through it with her. But, not to sleep with her? Yet he was correct. Sex was the last thing that should be on her mind. But it is on my mind. He had a sexy chemistry that was hard to avoid—had been since she spotted him across the way at Nora’s. A distraction was needed or she’d coax him out of his clothes.

  As much as she hated the thought, she closed her eyes, and reluctantly slipped into that horrid place in her mind to bring back the voices from that night. She gripped Randy’s thigh as she visualized sitting in the backseat of their whiskey-smelling car. What if she couldn’t recognize the voices after all this time?

  “We’ll drag our knives all over your pretty little features, starting at your toes and moving up your body,” said the driver with not as much as a hesitation. “No more pret-ty,” said the guy sitting next to her as he ran his blade against her breast. “After a slow death, you won’t have to worry about how you look.”

  She struggled to swallow, and she couldn’t breathe. Randy removed her hand from his thigh, which allowed a breath to slip out—to bring her back. Why had they wanted to be so mean?

  “Roxanne?” He gripped her upper arms to shake her.

  Her eyes popped open. After a moment, she confidently replied, “I’ll remember their voices if I hear them. The car smelled like whiskey. I had forgotten that part.” Roxanne rested her gaze on his, observing concern on his face in the form of a frown.

  He straightened the diamond solitaire on the chain around her neck. His gaze slowly moved over her face before meeting her eyes.

  This man’s ginger touch lingering against her neck sparked, then ignited a glow within her body. Not only a sexy kind of heat, but a heartwarming kind, too. “Will they let me hear their voices?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a lineup. What did you just remember?”

  Rage rushed through her body. Roxanne covered her ears to block the voices in her head. She visualized the scarred line across her breast. “I can’t go there again, but they wanted me maimed and dead. They half won.”

  His hands fisted and a vein twitched in his neck. “They didn’t win a sonofabitchin’ thing. We’re taking those deranged lowlifes down. I refuse to let you lose.”

  His positive attitude worked for now. As long as it didn’t turn her gentle natured cowboy into a raging maniac after he learned of all the facts surrounding that night on a dark road.

  ***

  The movers had arrived in town early. Roxanne gave permission to drop off the load the night they had planned on flying out. Instead of traveling, they both supervised the placement of furniture. When it was done and the movers gone, he gazed at her standing at the front doorway.

  Randy stood in the kitchen with hands on his hips—a hardworking cowboy—peering back at her. The man is so fine-looking. Her gaze did a slow journey up his tall body. It softened her heart to know he was here. “This is it, Randy. This is home now.” Now that he was here, she didn’t want to part from him. “Stay tonight? I’ll open a new bottle of wine. Celebrate with me?”

  Randy waltzed through the rooms, and when he got to the living room, he stopped. His gaze ran down the front of her, and he sauntered forward to embrace her. “Where do you want me to sleep?”

  She closed her e
yes and noticed the heat from his body, the throb of his heart against her chest, the scent of a ranching man. Safety. Passion. Mmm…

  Whatever this was between them now seemed better. They’d become closer. She snuggled in tighter. Was it because of the months apart, and the yearnings that took place in those months when she had allowed herself to think of Randy? His breath blew softly against her hair. “Sleep in my bed. I’m not asking for anything else.”

  “All right. Take a seat. Tell me where the wine and glasses are and I’ll take care of it. Let’s order pizza. I’m starved.”

  “I’ll take care of the pizza. The wine is in the cupboard over the snack bar. I don’t have a wine rack yet, but I need to move the wine to a lower cabinet where it’ll be cooler.” She pointed to the countertop between the dining room and kitchen and reached for her phone. “Same old, same old on the pizza?” Had she imagined the sound of a smile in her own voice? If a voice could smile, hers did.

  He winked. “Same old, yeah, including extra mushrooms. Oh, and I’ll be pleased to sleep in your bed tonight.”

  Those words shot a hot sensation to her core. It would be a long night stretched out beside him. Her body had definitely come alive.

  Chapter 8

  At two o’clock the next afternoon, Roxanne introduced Randy to Detective Daniels. Whether it was necessary or not, she briefly explained how Randy had come back into her life. Detective Daniels was in his early forties, nice looking with thick blond hair, and sparkling green eyes. He gave her a quick perusal before glancing at Randy.

  “You seem to be doing well, Ms. Connor.”

  “Getting by the best I can. I hope you have good news.” They made their way through the police station to a single office, while Randy kept a supportive grip on her arm. Once inside, she took a seat beside the desk, and he pulled a chair over for Randy. Randy’s body language showed tension. He wore a serious look on his face. They held hands while Detective Daniels explained how they had come across new evidence and told them what would happen today.

  “Six months ago when our officers found the stolen car used to abduct you, we found DNA besides yours, of course. Well, we never had a hit on the DNA until now. Apparently, he hadn’t been in the system.”

  “Surprisingly,” Roxanne said scathingly. “Neither of them acted like beginners. But you know I can’t identify them because I didn’t see their faces.” She slammed her free hand against the desk.

  “They’ll speak in a voice lineup using some of the words from your statement.”

  Oh, no! Her chest heaved along with her churning stomach. About ready to bolt out of there, she peered at Randy, but he’d never let her go without trying this. Yet, she was thankful he had come. Otherwise, she might disappear.

  He squeezed her hand and with a pleading look in his eyes, Randy reiterated, “You can do this. They won’t know you’re here.”

  Detective Daniels gave a frowning glance toward Randy. Their gazes met, both eyeing the other with condemnation. Daniels’s action caused Roxanne to reflect on the evenings the detective had come to the hospital to ask questions. Questions he’d already asked numerous times. Randy’s hand on his lap curled a bit until he looked away.

  “They know someone is listening to their statements. Who else would it be, but me? Jerks!” Assholes! Nate had to be lurking somewhere if he’d heard one of them had been brought in. “Will anyone be there with your suspect?”

  Detective Daniels lifted his chin. “An attorney doesn’t have to be there until he’s charged, and the suspect wasn’t smart enough to ask for one. He won’t personally be there. Voices have been recorded. For the record, Ms. Connor, we have to follow protocol. I have to tell you the subject’s voice may or may not be in the lineup. The blind administrator in there with you won’t know either.” Daniels nodded toward Randy. “Mr. Drake won’t be going in with you.”

  “I need him there!”

  After viewing the file in his hands, Daniels stood. “I’m sorry, but he can’t go in with you. I won’t be there either. Ready?”

  “No.” But she nodded anyway. Randy took her arm when they rose.

  Randy did a once over of her body, his gaze hesitating at her foot as it did often. If only she knew his thoughts. His hold on her arm tightened as if he knew she wanted to skedaddle. “It’ll be all right, Roxanne. They can’t hurt you here.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t live here.” Her voice faltered. They followed Detective Daniels out the door and into an “Official Use Only” elevator. They stopped in a room filled with other detectives, and Detective Daniels directed Randy to a seat at an empty desk. “This is where you’ll wait.”

  Randy clenched her hand. Obviously, he didn’t like people telling him what to do. “Rox, if you have to cover your eyes so you can concentrate on the voices, do it. It might help. You’ll get through this. I’ll be here when you return.”

  Roxanne gave his hand a squeeze before being escorted away to a room on a different floor. Inside the dimly lit room, the detective introduced her to Detective Caulfield, who she had never met before. He also told her if she didn’t select anyone today, the investigation would still continue.

  Well, that’s good to know. She signed and dated the form, as did Daniels. Detective Caulfield would act as the blind administrator—the only other person in the room with her. Roxanne wished Randy could’ve been beside her in a way, yet she wouldn’t have wanted him to hear the vile words. She began to tremble. What scared her the most was the fact that one or both of them could be standing next to her in line at the grocery store, and she’d never know unless they spoke.

  Once the voice lineup had started, the participants each had been instructed on what to say to the audio setup. She listened to each speak the nasty words from her statement, and when she got to the last one, she shook her head. “I don’t know.” Tears welled. “I just don’t know. Can I hear a couple of them again?”

  The administrator held up one finger as if she couldn’t count. “Yes. Once you identify a voice, I won’t go on unless you’re unsure. Which ones would you like to hear?”

  She indicated the numbers. Roxanne clenched her hands in her lap and blew out a breath. It wasn’t the administrator’s fault her nerves were on edge. He did his job. She prepared for one more stinking round.

  Roxanne peered at him and nodded though she was scared to death to be confined in a dimly lit room. But it was easier to envision and concentrate on each voice. Trust yourself. They sat in an interview room, and light shined through the window with the two-way mirror. It gave off a dim light to the room. Remembering what Randy had suggested, she closed her eyes and put her hands over them like a blindfold. She hated doing it, but she tried to place herself in the car that night, and her flesh crawled and perspired.

  The first voice played again. She forced her hands tighter over her eyes, focusing on the voice more than the words. No, that wasn’t the voice sending her body into a shudder. Her stomach lurched at the sound of those filthy words said over and over.

  She ruled out the suspect after a few moments. The administrator asked her the same questions again. For God sakes, no, it wasn’t him. He played number four. There was at least a fifteen second hesitation before the voice sounded, but when it did, she heard actual anger in his tone that she hadn’t picked up the first time. Angry words as if he had still meant them. Damn. Her blood turned to ice.

  As the sentence went on, she had a clear audible vision of the man who sat close to her with his knife against her skin. Her brain went into overload, spinning so much she might fall to the floor. But she jumped up and ran to the trash can beside the desk and vomited. Sweat dampened her face, but she froze. The room spun. What a vile taste she had in her mouth, and in her mind.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Connor?”

  Shaking her head, no, she straightened up and forced herself to look at him. He poured her a glass of water from a pitcher and gave it to her. She took a couple sips, hoping it stayed down. She breathed t
hrough a couple deeper breaths until she felt ready to go on. Settling herself, she indicated for him to play the rest of the words.

  There was no doubt. “It’s him,” she whispered, opening her eyes. Beads of sweat—goosebumps at the same time, pricked her flesh. Nails dug into her hands as her fists clenched on her lap. Over and over, she gasped for air. “He’s the one. Number four.” She imagined the man, whoever he was, had guiltless, bloodshot eyes with no respect for human life. Ooh! Get me out of here.

  The administrator made eye contact. “How certain are you, Ms. Connor, that the suspect is number four?” He waited patiently as she composed herself. It was over.

  Relaxing her hands, she forced a swallow down a dry throat. She grasped the cup and took another long drink of water, set it down, and slid the cup to the center of the table. “I don’t have a doubt.” She slumped forward in the chair, flexed her hands. Her eyes squeezed shut. “Not a doubt. I’m one hundred percent positive.” It was hard to imagine, but she was thankful she didn’t have a face to put to the words.

  “Thank you, Ms. Connor.” Detective Caulfield wrote her answer down on the form.

  Detective Daniels came back in, holding his arm toward the door. “Come with me, please.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked rising from her chair, but she wouldn’t be sorry to get out of the boring, dank room. It was gray, dark, and cold with one puny desk harboring a coffee cup with lipstick stains and the pitcher. Ugh, the lipstick stains were hers.

  “I’ll escort you back to Mr. Drake and then to the main door. He slipped his arm over her shoulder. “How are you really doing, Roxanne?”

  “Getting by is about all I can say. Better now I think, since I moved back home.”

  He seemed satisfied, and removed his arm from her shoulder, but remained quiet until they met up with Randy. “Please give me a call around five o’clock. I suggest you hang around another day.”

  “Um, ah…” Oh, God, it wasn’t over?