The Texas Lawman's Woman

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  She withdrew her hands from his. “Not if you want to stay in my life, you won’t.”

  Colt stared at her in shock. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her to turn him down. And maybe the old Shelley wouldn’t have. But if she was going to be the kind of mom Austin would be proud of, she was going to have to do things differently.

  She shifted back in her chair so their knees were no longer touching. “I got into this mess because I didn’t accept full responsibility for my own financial situation, Colt. I didn’t insist Tully and I both work regular jobs, and I turned a blind eye to our credit card debt and Tully’s lavish spending. And there I was today, doing it again.” Shelley rose and began to pace. “Acting as if things were magically going to work out when all the other indications were telling me otherwise.”

  She whirled back to face Colt. “I have to stop pretending that I am not responsible, because as much as I don’t want to admit it, the judge was right. I should have known that Tully would pull the rug out from under me like this after our divorce.”

  Colt rose and followed her to the screened window that overlooked the small, well-maintained backyard. “For what it’s worth, I was hoping a miracle would happen, too. The point is—” he paused emphatically “—it still could.”

  Shelley resisted the urge to launch herself into his arms and hold on tight. “Only if it’s one of my making,” she stated firmly. Walking back inside, she found her purse and her car keys. “I meant what I told your parents. My son and I will be out of here in a few days. And so will my stuff.”

  * * *

  COLT WOULD HAVE LIKED TO ARGUE with Shelley, but he was summoned back to work to be interviewed—again—by the internal affairs investigator.

  “Is it true that Shelley Meyerson has moved in with you?” Ilyse Adams asked the moment Colt walked into her office.

  A stone-faced Colt stalked right back out and went to the vending machine area, the IA official hot on his heels. “You are free to question me about whatever you want at work, but my personal life is my own.”

  Ilyse leaned against the machine. Because the area was empty at the moment, she continued her interrogation. “Not always. Not if you’re involved in any sort of exchange of favors.”

  She made it sound really sordid. Colt fished in his pocket for change. “Now you’re really reaching.”

  “Am I? Because of all the people involved in the accident that night, Shelley Meyerson is the only one who won’t consent to a second or third interview.”

  Colt fed quarters into the machine and hit the button for a Diet Dr Pepper. “She shouldn’t have to waste her time on that.”

  The can thunked against the bottom of the dispenser. “Is that what you told her?”

  Colt retrieved his drink, and then popped the lid. He sipped his drink languidly. “We didn’t discuss it.”

  Ilyse paused to get herself a soda, too. “What did you discuss when you were helping her move into your place?”

  Seeing a few other officers headed their way, Colt headed back to Ilyse’s office. “The fact that it’s going to be a temporary setup and she hopes to be out in a few days.”

  Ilyse regarded him with skepticism. “Is she paying rent?”

  Maybe Rio was right: maybe he did need a lawyer. Colt settled down in a chair in front of her desk. “I don’t charge my friends rent when they opt to bunk at my place for a few days.”

  Another imperious lift of the brow prodded him to go on. “I know you’re not from Texas, Investigator Adams, but we have something called hospitality here that says it’s rude to charge your friends when they stay over.”

  Ilyse took her time opening her own soft drink. “Are the two of you intimately involved?”

  Does wishing we were count? Colt wondered. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about making love to Shelley since he had come to his senses and called a halt to their make-out session in her old bedroom. But that was none of the department’s business. Colt flashed a warning smile. “You are crossing a line here, Investigator.”

  Ilyse Adams sipped her drink. “No, Deputy McCabe, it’s you who are crossing a line. And the sooner you realize that and do something to rectify the situation, the better.”

  * * *

  UNFORTUNATELY, INVESTIGATOR Adams had a half dozen other cases she had dug up out of the files that she wanted to question him on, so it was nearly midnight by the time Colt got back to his house.

  Shelley and Austin were long asleep by then, and he did not disturb them as he tiptoed past the guest bedroom. He showered and headed for his own bed, figuring he would see his two houseguests in the morning.

  Given how long his day had been, sleep should have come easily.

  It didn’t. All he could think about was Ilyse Adams’s dogged determination to find something to nail him with. The last thing he wanted was for Shelley to be dragged into this mess, and now, given Adams’s focus on his friendship with Shelley, that could well happen.

  So, the first thing the next morning, while Shelley and Austin were sleeping in, Colt did what his friend Rio had been urging him to do, and he called a lawyer and finagled an appointment for that afternoon at four o’clock.

  Colt had just hung up the phone and walked back inside the house when he ran into Shelley. She was clad in old-fashioned cotton pajamas—the kind that were made of pink-and-white-striped cotton and buttoned up the front. Her red hair tumbling in loose sexy waves over her shoulders, cheeks pink with sleep, she looked incredibly beautiful. And sexy. Sexy enough to make him really regret his decision not to have a fling with her.

  Austin was walking along behind her. The tyke stopped to crouch down next to Buddy, look into his eyes and pet him gently on the head.

  Smiling at the heartwarming picture her toddler and his dog made, Shelley turned back to Colt. “You don’t have to go outside to talk on the phone, you know. We’re not that light of sleepers.”

  Actually, he kind of did. Not just because the sheriff and Investigator Adams had told him to keep the investigation quiet, and hence, somewhat unofficial, for now. But because Shelley was inadvertently becoming a target of Ilyse Adams, too. And she had enough to deal with without worrying about the thinly veiled assumptions of the internal affairs officer.

  Colt smiled, resisting the urge to take Shelley in his arms and do something far from G-rated. He swallowed, and ignoring the quickening of his pulse, looked her over with casual affection. “How did you sleep?”

  “Fine.” Shelley rolled her eyes. “Once we went to sleep. It took a while, though. Buddy wanted that R-E-D T-R-U-C-K you saw him playing with the other day. The wooden one.”

  “The one your grandfather made for your dad—and that your father kept for his first grandchild?” Her dad had been showing it off, even when Shelley and Colt were an item back in high school.

  “That would be it. Don’t mention it, but somewhere in all the chaos yesterday, it went missing. I’m pretty sure I packed it in some box and will eventually find it. But in the meantime, if you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye out for it...?”

  “Will do,” he promised.

  Shelley’s eyes swept his uniform. “Headed for work?”

  Colt nodded. “I should be home around six or so,” he said, aware how cozy and domestic this all suddenly felt. How conducive for getting intimately involved, just as his parents had alleged. He cleared his throat. “Please, make yourself at home.”

  “Not for long—” Shelley rose on tiptoe to give him a quick, platonic peck on the cheek “—but thanks...we will.”

  Chapter Eight

  Travis Anderson, who’d had his own brush with an unlawful firing several years before, listened intently while Colt explained what had happened in the aftermath of Mr. Zellecky’s car accident.

  When Colt had finished, the attorney stated bluntly, “I ha
d a chance to look at the county sheriff department’s employee guidelines. I don’t think your actions are a fireable offense, given the fact you may well have saved two lives with your actions.”

  Colt relaxed in relief.

  “However, the scope of the internal affairs investigation concerns me.” Travis frowned. “What else do they have?”

  Wishing this weren’t such a big deal, Colt settled more comfortably in his chair. “Last spring, I intercepted three seniors outside the high school. They were contemplating breaking into the principal’s office to toilet paper his office. I talked them out of it, and because they hadn’t actually done anything when I caught them, except be on school property after hours, I didn’t cite them with anything or file any paperwork.”

  “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to this story?” Travis asked with lawyerly calm.

  Wincing, Colt continued his account of what happened. “Their close call was mentioned on Facebook. One of the teachers heard about it and complained. She said I should have thrown the book at the kids. I disagreed. I didn’t want to saddle them with criminal records for the rest of their lives.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “The superintendent suspended them for three days,” he replied.

  “Were you reprimanded?”

  Colt cleared his throat. “Unofficially.”

  “Anything else?”

  He went through half a dozen similar incidents. All involved judgment calls on his part.

  Travis made another notation on the pad in front of him. “Sounds like they may be building a case that you have a tendency to be soft on crime.”

  Colt clenched his jaw. “What do I have to do to protect myself and my job?”

  “They’ll be looking for patterns of behavior, so my advice is don’t give them any more ammunition. Follow procedure to the letter, down to the smallest detail. Be every bit as tough on crime as they want you to be. And hopefully this will blow over.”

  Unable to imagine what it would feel like to be kicked out of law enforcement, Colt muttered, “And if it doesn’t?”

  Travis shook his head, his expression grim. “That’s a bridge we never want to have to cross. But in the meantime, you might want to help Shelley and her son find somewhere else to live.”

  Exactly what his parents had said. “I’m not kicking them out.” Even though she had said they would be going anyway, in a few days.

  “You might want to reconsider that,” Travis advised. “Since, from a legal perspective, distancing yourself from Shelley and any of her current problems would substantially weaken the case they are building against you.”

  * * *

  UPSET, COLT LEFT TRAVIS’S office, only to run into the person he least expected to see at that particular moment, walking into the office building.

  Shelley blinked and stopped just short of the door as he closed the distance between them.

  Colt felt his mouth water just looking at her. Damn, but she was pretty in the early-evening light. She wore a pretty blue print sundress and coordinating sandals. The corset-style bodice hugged her torso, while the wide straps showed off her feminine shoulders and beautiful dancer’s arms. The flirty skirt flared out over her hips and swirled around her spectacularly sexy legs. His heart hammering in his chest, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

  “Colt?” Shelley ran a hand through the loose waves of her auburn hair. She looked at the Cartwright & Anderson, Attorneys At Law sign. “What are you doing here?”

  Forced to fib, Colt replied offhandedly, “Just taking care of some personal business.” Stuff he hoped would never become public. “You?”

  “I have an appointment with Liz. I have an idea how to better handle my situation, and I want to get her opinion on it.”

  Colt wondered if that meant Shelley was finally ready to hold her ex accountable and file criminal charges. Aware, though, that this was a decision only she could make, he held his tongue and merely said, “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Shelley paused and bit her lip, as if she didn’t know quite where to start. “Listen, if you’re headed home...”

  “I am.”

  She leaned in close enough for him to get a whiff of her perfume. “Then you’ll be happy to know your place is all yours again. Well,” she amended with a hasty lift of her delicate hand, “except for the stuff I had to leave stacked in your garage. Everything inside the house, as well as my sofa and chairs, kitchen table and bed, I was able to move over to Main Street.”

  Colt did a double take.

  “Jenna Lockhart Remington agreed to let me rent the one-bedroom apartment above her bridal salon until I get everything straightened out,” Shelley explained.

  That was a lot of change for her son. “Is Austin okay with all this?”

  Her face became pinched with stress. “Except for the fact we still can’t find his little red truck. Luckily, I’ve been able to keep distracting him.” She paused. “At least he has the rest of his toys and his own crib to sleep in, his stroller and booster chair to sit in.”

  Colt nodded, trying not to show how disappointed he felt. Although this would certainly make his lawyer happy. He forced a smile. “Hopefully, the toy truck will turn up.”

  Shelley smiled back, looking as reluctant to part ways with him as he was with her. “I’m sure it will. I’m sure it’s right in front of my eyes. I’ve just been so busy and distracted I can’t see it.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, I better go in. I don’t want to be late.” She touched his hand briefly before moving away. “Thanks again for putting us up last night.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Colt said. Although it would have been a lot better had they stayed.

  The feeling intensified when he actually got home.

  His house, always such a haven of peace and solitude, echoed with silence. With the wistful feeling of what might have been, if only Shelley hadn’t been so intent on solving her own problems. Buddy noticed, too. He stayed close by Colt’s side while they had dinner and got ready for bed. Fortunately, the last few days had left Colt exhausted, and he fell asleep swiftly.

  At two o’clock, the phone rang, jarring them both awake.

  Groggily, Colt picked it up. Beside him, Buddy lifted his head, too.

  “Colt?” Shelley’s voice was distraught. He could barely hear her over the sound of Austin’s sobbing. “I’m so s-sorry to wake you.”

  Colt sat up, wide-awake. “What is it?”

  “The little red truck. Austin woke up, clamoring for it, and there’s nothing I can say or do...” Hearing the way her son was crying, as if his little heart was breaking, damn near had Colt tearing up, too. Shelley was right. Her son had been through so much in the past couple of weeks. They both had.

  “What can I do?” Colt asked, already reaching for his jeans.

  “It’s got to be at the house. He was carrying it around with him, before we left, the day we were evicted. The only thing is I don’t have a key anymore. The sheriff’s department changed the locks at the time I surrendered the property.”

  Colt remembered. It was standard procedure in evictions on foreclosed properties.

  “Can you get in? Have a look around?”

  That wasn’t standard procedure.

  “I hate to ask,” Shelley had to shout to be heard above her son’s heart-wrenching sobs, “but I think everything that’s happened has finally caught up with him. Austin really needs his favorite toy.”

  “I’m on it,” he said.

  “Thank you, Colt. Thank you so much!”

  Colt headed briskly down the stairs. Located his truck keys and his wallet. “I’ll call you when I find it,” he promised.

  * * *

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” the watch commander asked when Colt strolled into the station
ten minutes later.

  The less others knew, the better. Colt was about to go off protocol again, and he didn’t want anyone else catching grief about it. The only good thing was that the internal affairs officer was nowhere around this time of night. Colt casually waved off the commander’s question. “Long story.”

  “Aren’t you on duty first thing tomorrow morning?” a female officer said.

  “Yep.” He kept right on going, past the bull pen of desks and computers, where reports were typed up, to the locker room. “Which is why I have to get the electric bill out of the jacket in my locker and pay the darn thing before my lights and air-conditioning are turned off.”

  “We don’t want you sweating too much,” the female officer said with a wink.

  Colt chuckled at the flirtatious joke, as he was meant to, and slipped into the locker room. He grabbed the spare jacket from his metal cubicle, along with the actual bill—which wasn’t actually due for another week. From there, he went to the room where the keys to foreclosed properties were kept.

  A quick run-through of the files netted him the key he needed.

  He slipped it into the pocket of his pants and headed out again.

  He waved the bill at the watch commander as he passed. “Got it.”

  “Get some sleep, will you, Colt?”

  “Just as soon as I take care of business,” he promised.

  Short minutes later, he was at Shelley’s foreclosed house. The neighborhood was as quiet as the middle of the night dictated, and Colt had no problem slipping in the back door and surveying the rooms with his flashlight, until at last he saw what he had been looking for and hunkered down. “Bingo!”

  * * *

  IN THE CENTER OF TOWN, SHELLEY walked the floors with her wailing toddler in her arms. “Oh, sweetheart, please stop crying,” she urged while rubbing his back.

  Austin cried all the harder, in a way that just broke her heart. “Truck, Momma. Want truck....” He dissolved into fresh sobs.