2000 Kisses

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2000 Kisses Page 26

by Christina Skye


  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Tess hung up, then sat stiffly. To the east a bank of clouds spilled over a jagged blue peak and rain darkened the horizon. She couldn’t close her eyes and walk away from this problem. The cruise was her project from start to finish. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Annie was right. A few hours of soothing and stroking would do the trick. And she’d be very careful. She’d pay cash and she wouldn’t even stay overnight.

  She was reaching for the phone when it rang. She answered, expecting it to be T.J.

  “Tess, it’s Andrew. Where is T.J.?”

  “He’s at work.” Her body tightened. “Why?”

  “I need to talk to him now. I think we’ve got a line on whoever broke into your apartment.”

  “Wait.” The room seemed to sway. “Someone … broke into my apartment?” She swallowed hard. “T. J didn’t tell me that.”

  “He probably forgot.”

  “Forgot?” Her hands opened and closed. “He forgot to tell me that my apartment was burglarized?” Fear was fast sliding into irritation. “When did it happen?”

  “Probably two days ago, but we can’t be sure. Whoever did it knew all the moves. We found out only because Mrs. Spinelli on the third floor wasn’t expecting any flowers.”

  “Mrs. Spinelli?” Fear closed in. “She wasn’t hurt, was she?”

  “She’s fine, Tess. She said to say hello and that her cats miss you.”

  Some of the panic slid away, but anger boiled up in its place. “How long has T.J. known about this?”

  “Since yesterday. I called while you were sleeping after the hiking accident. How are you feeling, by the way? Still bruised?”

  “I’m doing fine. At least I was,” she said grimly.

  “Don’t make a case out of this, Tess. I’m sure McCall meant to fill you in. He probably got caught up in something else that demanded his attention first.”

  “Right.” Like take me to bed and turn me inside out until I forget my own first name.

  Tess drew a shaky breath. “He should have told me. You should have told me. I won’t be left out in the cold, Andrew. I’m the one these people are after, remember?”

  “I remember. That’s why you’re in Arizona right now—because T.J. and I are trying to keep you alive.” His voice hardened and Tess heard the snap of command that had brought him to the top of his profession in a little under ten years. He’d always had the cold stare, Tess realized. Now he had the voice to match.

  “It was still wrong.”

  “Forget the ethics. That’s not part of the equation.”

  “For me it is. How can I trust him if he lies to me?”

  God help me, how can I share his bed and sigh his name until he makes me love him?

  Tess stared blindly as the words echoed through her mind.

  Love him.

  Was it true? Had T. J. McCall stolen beneath her defenses, bypassed her professional tunnel vision, and locked down hard on her heart?

  Her face felt cold, dangerously cold. She wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy and commitment. They were worlds apart. They were too volatile, too different. Too—

  “Tess, are you there?”

  She stared at the distant blue curtain of rain creeping up the valley. “I’m here, but I have to go. You can reach T.J. at the sheriff’s office. I’ll tell him that you called.” There was a note of finality in her voice.

  “Tess, I—”

  “Good-bye, Andrew.”

  She didn’t pause to regret or consider. She was stabbing in numbers before her anger could cool, running on a mix of panic, determination, and raw anger as she reserved a seat on the next morning’s earliest flight from Tucson to New Orleans. Oh, she’d be careful.

  Cash only. No hotel and no stops except at the cruise ship.

  She glanced at her watch, waiting for the agent to complete the reservation. She’d have to leave very early to make the flight. Three hours should be enough to—

  The phone was yanked from her fingers, and Tess was spun around hard.

  His eyes were churning. His shoulders could have been carved from stone.

  “Take a seat, Duchess,” he ordered. “Then tell me what in the hell you were doing.” Grimly, he twisted the receiver away from her fingers.

  Sputtering, Tess grabbed it back. “Give me that.”

  “Not a chance.” He slammed the phone down.

  “Just who do you think you are?”

  “The man who is supposed to keep you safe,” he growled. “But you seem hell-bent on giving these people a clear target. Are you always this reckless, or have you got the idea that you’re immortal?”

  “Immortal? That’s a big word for a cowboy,” Tess snapped.

  “Oh, I know a few. Stick around and you might hear them.”

  Tess’s fingers locked into fists. “Use a few, in that case. Tell me about my apartment. Andrew told you that someone broke in, but neither of you saw fit to pass the news along to me. I want to know why.”

  “You were already upset. I didn’t see how it could help matters to tell you.”

  “Who gave you that choice?”

  “I did. As someone who cares about you.”

  “Then, don’t care about me, not if it means censoring my news and controlling where I go.”

  “It’s called protecting you,” T.J. said savagely. “At least I’m trying to. The first place these people will look is for flight records. Any hacker with a friendly travel agent can check tickets reserved anywhere around the globe. You’d better pray that reservation didn’t go through,” he said flatly.

  Tess shoved angrily at his hand, which had locked around her wrist. “Forget trying to scare me. It won’t work.”

  “I’m not trying to scare you. I’m trying to talk some sense into that head of yours. Do you think the burglary at your apartment was an accident?”

  Tess swallowed. “Of course not. But one day won’t matter. I’m leaving first thing in the morning and I’ll be back by evening. There’s no way they can—”

  He gripped her shoulders hard. “Are you deaf? You’re not going anywhere. Not to New Orleans or Tucson or Tombstone. Forget about it.”

  Furious, Tess wrenched at his hands. “Don’t give me orders.”

  “It would be easier to hold a conversation with a rabid steer.” He pinned her to the wall, his face unreadable. “Someone fired a shot at you by those ruins. I was too slow, too unprepared. They might have taken you, Tess. Right now you might be shoved in the back of a car or locked in a room while they—” He swallowed a curse.

  “So this is about you, because you believe you failed in your duty?”

  “I did fail. But it won’t happen twice,” he said grimly.

  Tess watched something flicker in his eyes. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “It’s the man in Atlanta.” He drew a hard breath. “He’s not missing anymore.”

  Tess felt something twist at her chest. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that they found him. He was facedown in a half-filled irrigation pipe. There was a bullet through his left temple.”

  He didn’t tell her the rest: that the man had been badly beaten before he was killed, most likely in an effort to extract every detail of his account information. “And here you are, calmly booking a flight that would make you a walking target for men with no scruples about torture or murder.” He gripped her shoulders. “You’re staying, and that’s that. Don’t try to sneak out, or I’ll tie you to the bed. I might even decide to join you there.”

  Tess started to lash out, only to feel the reality of the danger she was in. T.J. was right. If she wasn’t very careful, she could end up in an irrigation ditch with a bullet in her temple, too.

  She drew a slow breath, then put a hand awkwardly on his shoulder.

  He didn’t move. His shoulder was corded, taut beneath
her hand.

  “T.J.?”

  He turned swiftly, his eyes burning. “Dammit, these men aren’t playing games, Tess. They could be up in the wash right now, watching us, waiting for a chance to close in. I can’t guard every foot of terrain and I can’t keep you safe if you try to run from me. And I don’t want to fail. Not with you,” he added harshly.

  She stared at him, watching emotions race across his face.

  “I won’t let them get to you,” he whispered.

  Her breath came swift and unsteady. She caught a breath as his fingers locked around her.

  Then he peeled off her sweater and shoved her against the wall.

  His thigh nudged her hips and his hands were tangled in her hair. A muscle pumped at his jaw as he drew a slow, angry breath. “You were wrong to make that call.”

  “I can see that now.”

  He took another breath, his thighs moving restlessly, his body rock hard against hers. “I’m sorry about what I said. All I could think of was what might happen to you.”

  “So am I.”

  Tess jerked at his shirt, shearing off all the buttons, then sighed as her fingers rode down his chest. Her skirt was bunched around her waist and T.J. had one thigh between her legs when some shred of sanity returned.

  He bit off a graphic curse, then let his head sink down against her forehead. “I have a whip here somewhere,” he muttered. “You might want to use it on me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because of this.” He shook his head as he found a tiny bruise on her arm and two others at her shoulder. “You still have bruises. In a few more minutes, I might have added my own, dammit.”

  He kissed them slowly, one by one, then eased his hands under her skirt and whispered in her ear.

  “What parade?” she muttered.

  “For Founders Day. In twenty minutes. Everyone will be there,” he said hoarsely. “Including us.”

  “But I don’t—”

  He slipped inside her while her heart pounded, his body hard and demanding. Tess felt the instant slam of desire as he drove deeper. She raked his back with her nails, shocked at how easily he swept her into this blindness again.

  She heard the sound of distant fireworks as pleasure burst through her.

  Or maybe it was simply the sound of all her careful defenses finally shattering.

  He was sweating beneath his light jacket.

  He thought of the money and all the incredible things he could do as he fingered the roll of electrical tape in his pocket and stared down at the motionless body on the ground. Taping the mouth was a nice touch.

  Time to go. He checked the ground, making certain he’d left no clues. He’d have to be fast now.

  He wouldn’t think about the money or all those lazy, beautiful days on the beach that it would buy. He wouldn’t think about anything else until he was almost done.

  He laughed mirthlessly.

  Almost.

  23

  It was three o’clock, the temperature still hadn’t reached eighty-five, and a brisk breeze was blowing in from the eastern mountains.

  Ms. Eliza Jenkins’ fourth-grade class was handing out small plastic flags and the rotary club was dispensing free sodas in front of the courthouse. Mae was selling steaming cups of cappuccino as fast as she could brew them in the shiny new machine that had arrived via express mail that morning. Meanwhile, the high school band was tuning up for a musical reception to formally open the Almost Founders Day Celebration.

  It was sweet and honest and yet Tess could not escape how out of place she felt here. She kept her gaze on T.J., who was shaking hands with a rancher whose face was the color of burned leather.

  Grady saw her staring. “Glad to see you looking so good, Ms. Tess.” He studied T.J.’s back. “Glad to see Sheriff McCall looking so good, too. It’s been a while.”

  Tess wanted to ask him why, but she didn’t. T.J.’s past would make no difference to her future. She had an odd feeling that events were pushing them forward, driving them to the moment when they would be forced to make choices that would sweep them apart.

  Tess sighed. Almost was a place for protection and escape, but she could never make her home there. When her problem was solved, they both knew she would head back to Boston. There would be no challenge for her here, and she needed challenge the way she needed air.

  Like it or not, their future was clear. T.J. couldn’t leave, and she couldn’t stay. Oh, maybe for a month. Even for two.

  Then what? Cards at Christmas? A short and entirely awkward visit to Boston, which they both would regret after an hour?

  Better the break should be clean and complete. No regrets and no dragging out the proceedings. She owed T.J. that much.

  Sunlight gleamed on his badge. He raised a little girl onto his shoulders, then turned to wave at Tess before moving through the crowd gathered beneath the large red streamers.

  As she watched him smile, her heart hurt.

  She was beautiful, T.J. thought.

  Her hair was like sunlight, and her smile reached all the way to his toes.

  Already she had changed the town. Mae was doing a land-office business in cappuccino and mocha lattes, right beside a rough sketch of the new clinic that was being planned, thanks to Tess’s fund-raising ideas.

  T.J. had to laugh as he saw Mae’s niece pass by wearing bright red boots and sporting highlighted hair almost as bright as Tess’s.

  Yes, Tess had already left her mark on Almost. He wondered how he would bear all these reminders if she left.

  Not if, but when she left. Because they both knew she had to. That was the kind of woman she was. That sassy wit and edgy drive were part of why she fascinated him.

  He wanted to argue with her—to argue with himself. Even when he knew that words would make no difference.

  A shadow fell in front of him. “I need to talk to you, Sheriff.”

  T.J. tried to hide his irritation, flicking a glance at the man beneath the broad, battered Stetson. “I’m kind of busy now, Tom.”

  The rancher moved, blocking his way. “This can’t wait.” T.J. lowered the little girl from his shoulders, then passed her to her waiting father with a smile. Then he rounded on Stoner.

  “What’s happened?”

  “It’s about those dead animals. Those coyotes.” The graying rancher picked at his frayed cuff. “I reckon I lied when I talked to you.” He swallowed hard. “You see, it wasn’t those folks up in the foothills. I killed those coyotes.”

  T.J.’s first instinct was that the man was lying. Then he saw the hard lines at Stoner’s mouth. “Why in the hell would you pull a crazy stunt like that?”

  “To get out. My land’s worth less every year. Between taxes and irrigation costs, I’m losing more and more, and my Mariah’s too old for this kind of life.” He turned his hat back and forth in his fingers. “She wants a nice little place over near Tucson, but who’s going to buy one thousand dusty acres in the middle of a mountain range?”

  “You did this to sell the Lazy C?” No matter how T.J. looked at it, it just didn’t make sense.

  “I figured those survival people changed everything. If I could pin it on them, it would make the news. Then that Graystone fellow would fight the arrest and Almost would be knee deep in TV crews, so people would see how beautiful it is up here. Maybe a developer would pay to put up some houses or a resort and I’d be ready to sell.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I guess I didn’t plan it out very well. Mariah says I never was much for thinking things through.”

  “What did you use as poison?”

  “My brother found something down in Nogales. It’s an anticoagulant.”

  “And I’ll just bet it hasn’t been approved for import either.” T.J.’s eyes were icy. “I should run you in for this, you know.”

  The older man nodded. “Figure you should. I’m ready to go when you are.”

  “Did you cut those tires?”

  “Yep.”

  “What abo
ut that shot fired?”

  Stoner’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t avoid T.J.’s eyes. “It was mine. Hell, I didn’t come anywhere close to her, Sheriff. I just wanted to scare her off, so that you’d pin that on those survival people, too. I was damned sorry that she fell; you have to believe it.”

  T.J.’s hands curled into fists. “Sorry? You think that makes it all fine?”

  “No. I reckon not. It was a bad thing to do. You better run me in.”

  T.J. looked around at the crowd. These were friends and family and neighbors, people Tom had known for fifty years. “What made you do such a damned fool thing?”

  “I’m getting tired, I guess. Or maybe I’m just old. I’m afraid I’ll lose Mariah, and loneliness can be a terrible thing, Sheriff. I think I’d put a gun to my head if she left me.”

  “Not if I know about it, you won’t.” T.J. fixed him with an angry scowl. “That damned poison probably doesn’t degrade. You remember where you left those animals?”

  Stoner nodded.

  “How many?”

  “Twelve.”

  T.J. rolled his eyes, muttering angrily. “You give me your word there will be no more of this?”

  The rancher looked confused. “You aren’t going to arrest me?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” He thumped Stoner’s chest. “I expect you in my office tomorrow morning at the stroke of eight. We’re going to talk about exactly what you did and where you did it. Every hint of that poison has to be removed, and every dead animal will have to be recovered. After that I’ll decide whether to arrest you or not. I can’t say that the EPA people might not like a piece of your hide, too.” T.J. gave a tight smile to the mayor, who was motioning him toward the stage.

  Time for his speech. T.J. hated speeches.

  He glared at Stoner. “Go on before I change my mind.” T.J. turned away, rubbing his jaw. He’d deal with Stoner in the morning. The man wasn’t going anywhere until then.

  Meanwhile, he had to say something stirring. Elections were coming up, and these people were voters. He liked being sheriff. More important, he was good at the job and he knew he was making a difference.

  Hell.

  The high school band built to an off-key crescendo, then fell into silence. As T.J. moved forward, papers rustled and people coughed in the restless silence.

 

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