“Got it,” the police officer said. “Do you know how badly Clem is hurt? Man, I’ve known him all my life, was in his class in elementary school.”
“So was I,” Kurt said, running one hand over the back of his neck. “He’s a decent person, who sure as hell didn’t deserve this. I don’t know how serious his head wound is. He was unconscious, and there was a lot of blood.”
“Yeah,” the officer said, frowning. “Who was that guy who tended to Clem?”
“His name is J. D. Cade,” Kurt said. “Works out at the Kincaid ranch. He just jumped in and did what needed doing. He was calm and cool, like tending to a gunshot wound was all in a day’s work. Let’s hope that what Cade did will make a difference in how Clem comes out of this.” He paused. “Get that scum out of here.”
“Yep.”
The handcuffed man was assisted to his feet and propelled out the door. The felon was hollering about his legal rights and demanding to see a doctor about his bleeding nose.
Kurt turned and looked for Dana Bailey, finally locating her where she stood against the back wall, her eyes closed. He walked slowly toward her.
Dana was still as pale as a ghost, he thought. She appeared done in, exhausted. Well, she’d suffered a trauma that could definitely wipe a person out. She looked vulnerable, like someone who needed a comforting hug.
Cripe, Noble, he admonished himself. Where had that thought come from? If he wrapped his arms around Dana Bailey’s slender body…the thought of which had a certain appeal…she’d probably holler police harassment and whack him with a soda can, which was apparently her weapon of choice.
Kurt stopped about two feet in front of Dana, hoping she’d sense his presence, so that he wouldn’t have to scare her to death by speaking to her, or touching her.
He waited, but Dana didn’t move.
Kurt cleared his throat.
Dana’s eyes flew open. “What?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Kurt said, raising both hands. Beautiful eyes. She sure as hell had great big beautiful blue eyes. Lord, Noble, knock it off. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh. I…I’m just very tired.”
“You’re coming down off an extremely high adrenaline rush, Dana. May I call you Dana? Would you like to have a doctor look you over, make certain that you’re really all right?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Dana pushed away from the wall and straightened her pink string sweater over the waistband of her jeans. “I’m on a tight schedule, though, Mr. Noble, so—”
“Kurt,” he said interrupting her. “We’re very informal here in Whitehorn, just laid-back folks.”
“Yes, well, Kurt,” she said, lifting her chin, “as I was saying, I have a timetable to keep, so if I could possibly make my purchases, then give you my statement, I’ll be on my way.”
“I assume that is your car outside with the Illinois license plates?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm…” he said, reaching down and picking up the plastic basket. “Where are you headed?”
Somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere, Dana thought. Dear heaven, what should she say? Kurt’s question was certainly reasonable. What was bizarre was that she didn’t have a clue as to what the answer was.
“West,” she said. “I’m going west.” She smiled brightly. “Just like a pioneer of old. That’s me. Heading west.”
Kurt frowned as he nodded slowly. He looked at Dana for a long, studying moment, then turned and went to the refrigerator section of the store and added a can of soda to the basket. He returned to where Dana remained standing.
“I’ll put this stuff in a sack for you,” he said. “We’re a tad short on medals, so this will be your reward from the town of Whitehorn for decking the perp and stopping the robbery.”
“Perp?” Dana said, raising her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that police officers actually said that.”
“We say it.”
“Why aren’t you in uniform? Are you a detective?”
“Yes. What do you do for a living?”
Dana moved past Kurt and answered him over her shoulder. “I head west,” she said, smiling pleasantly.
“Mmm…” he said, narrowing his eyes as he followed her to the front of the store.
In the police station, Kurt produced a foam cup of coffee for Dana, then escorted her into his office. She’d followed him in her own car to the building, which was a few blocks from the convenience store.
At one point, she’d considered pressing hard on the gas pedal, whipping around a corner and fleeing. That idea had lasted approximately three seconds, as she envisioned a very angry Kurt Noble chasing her down and hauling her back to Whitehorn, demanding to know why she’d run.
While a woman’s fantasies might conjure up all kinds of delicious scenarios one might engage in with the ruggedly handsome and masculinity-personified Detective Noble, having him become mad as blue blazes was not on the list of wonderful things to do.
With a sigh, Dana sank onto a hard wooden chair opposite Kurt’s cluttered metal desk and took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee.
She looked up to see Kurt standing behind the desk and taking a tie from his jacket pocket. He fastened the top button of his shirt, then proceeded to secure the tie in place with a perfectly square knot.
“How did you do that without a mirror?” Dana said, cocking her head slightly to one side.
“Practice,” Kurt said, sitting down. “Years of practice.” He paused. “I take it that your husband—or significant other, if you’ll excuse the overused term—puts his tie on in front of a mirror?”
Where had that come from? Kurt wondered. He didn’t give a rip whether Dana Bailey was married or seriously involved with a man. What a corny thing to have asked her. It was lame high school dialogue, and an obvious fishing-for-personal-information question.
“I’m not married or otherwise encumbered,” Dana said coolly. “I watched my father put on his tie when I was a little girl. It never failed to fascinate me. And this is a dumb conversation.”
“You’ve got that straight,” Kurt said, then hollered, “Kimberly!”
Dana jumped in her chair at Kurt’s sudden outburst, nearly spilling her coffee.
“Good grief,” she said, “don’t you people have an intercom system here?”
“Yep,” he said, grinning. “You just heard it.”
The man should not smile, Dana thought. It softened his features and caused crinkling little lines to appear by his blue eyes. She’d felt it, the funny little flutter in the pit of her stomach when Kurt had smiled. She’d felt it, and she was totally ignoring it. She was, after all, in a weakened condition after the horrifying events she had just been subjected to.
Kurt Noble was simply a man. Well, he was an extremely attractive man, who exuded an earthy aura that shouted the message “male” loud and clear, but… Oh, Dana, please shut up.
“You rang?” a young woman said, appearing in the doorway to Kurt’s office.
“Yes,” Kurt said. “I need you to take a statement, please. Kim, this is Dana Bailey. Dana, Kimberly will take down the details of what took place at the store.”
“Fine,” Dana said.
“Do you know how Clem is doing, Kurt?” Kimberly said. “My mom had him for a teacher when she was a kid. She’s going to be really upset about this.”
“A lot of people are,” Kurt said, “but at least we’ve got the perp who shot him, thanks to Dana here. And no, I don’t know what condition Clem is in. Get your notebook, all right?”
“Okay,” Kim said, then hurried away.
“Just take it from the top,” Kurt said to Dana, “but go slowly, because Kim doesn’t know shorthand.”
“Then why is she the one taking statements?”
Kurt shrugged. “Beats me. You’d have to ask Sheriff Hensley that. Judd does the hiring and firing around this place.”
“A sheriff is in charge of the police, rather than a police chief?”
“Strange, but true,”
Kurt said. “We have police officers on duty in Whitehorn, and deputy sheriffs on duty outside the city limit, into the county. Judd is in charge of the whole deal, and we overlap our territories, don’t pay any attention to the county or city lines.”
“Weird.”
“I suppose it is, but it’s always been that way. Then there’s the res, which has its own police force. We have to get permission to go in there in an official capacity.”
“The res?”
“The Laughing Horse Indian Reservation.”
“I’m back,” Kim said, rushing into the room. “Kurt, Judd is on line one for you.”
Kurt got to his feet. “I’ll take it outside. You two get started.”
Kimberly watched Kurt leave the office, and Dana watched Kim watching Kurt.
“He’s dreamy,” the young girl said, looking at Dana again. “Well, for an old guy, he’s pretty sexy.”
“Old?” Dana said, raising her eyebrows. “He looks about thirty-five maybe thirty-six.”
Kimberly nodded. “Right. Old. Okay, here we go. Tell me everything that happened.”
Dana sighed. “I parked in front of the convenience store, and…”
“Got it,” Kurt said into the receiver of the telephone. “I’ll tell you this, though, Judd—Dana Bailey is not going to be happy with this newsflash…. No, I don’t know why she’s in Whitehorn, or exactly where she’s headed. She’s been dancing around answering those kinds of questions. But she did make it clear that she was in a hurry to be on her way…. Yeah, I understand. I know we can, and I’ll make that clear to her. When are you coming in? Okay, I’ll see you then…. What? No, I’m going to call the hospital now and find out how Clem is doing. Yep. Yep. See ya.”
Kurt replaced the receiver, looked up the number for the hospital, then spoke to a high-ranking nurse. The call completed, he went back into his office, just as Kimberly was getting to her feet.
“I’ll type this in triplicate and you can sign it,” Kimberly said to Dana.
“Will it take long?” Dana said.
“Well, I’m not a very fast typist, but I’ll do it as quickly as I can.” Kimberly started toward the door. “Hi, Kurt. Did you phone the hospital?”
Kurt nodded. “Clem is in a deep coma. The bullet caught him alongside the head. They’re not predicting anything about his chances at this point.”
“I’d better call my mom and let her know the latest about Clem.”
“But you’re going to type my statement,” Dana said, shifting in the chair to look at Kimberly.
“Oh, I will,” she said, “just as soon as I finish talking to my mother.”
Dana got to her feet, dropped the empty cup in the trash can and began to wander restlessly around the small office.
Kurt moved past her and sank onto the creaking leather chair behind his desk.
“Chicago,” he said. “Illinois license plates and big-city hurry-up attitude. I’ve got five bucks that says you’re from Chicago.”
Dana stopped her trek and frowned. “Does it matter where I’m from?”
“I’m just being friendly. Chatting. Making small talk.”
“I don’t have time to chat, Detective Noble. I must be on my way.”
Kurt ran one hand over his chin. “Well, I was just speaking to Sheriff Hensley about that. You know, the fact that you’re apparently in a rush to be hitting the road.”
“And?”
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“No, thank you,” Dana said.
“Whatever. Anyway, Judd said I was to inform you that your presence is required here in Whitehorn as a witness in the trial of the perp who shot Clem.”
“What?”
“In other words, Ms. Bailey, you can’t leave town.”
Three
Hearing Kurt Noble’s unbelievable statement Dana felt panic sweep through her like a chilling current. Her first instinct was to bolt. By sheer force of will, she reined in her fear and allowed the emotion that followed to come to the fore.
Anger.
She marched to the front of Kurt’s desk, planted her hands flat on the cluttered top and leaned toward him.
“You,” she said, her voice quivering with fury, “are out of your tiny mind, mister.”
Sensational, Kurt thought. Dana Bailey mad as hell was really something to behold. Her big blue eyes were flashing laser beams, her cheeks were flushed, her silky hair was swinging, beckoning to his hands to sift his fingers through it.
She was so close to him. All he had to do was lean forward a bit, and he could capture those enticing lips of Dana’s with his own. Her lush breasts were straining against her sweater, and the fair skin of her slender throat looked like soft white velvet. Oh, yeah, she was definitely sensational.
Yes, indeed, Kurt thought, this was one fantastic woman, and that realization was causing heat to coil tight and low in his body.
“Goodbye, Detective Noble,” Dana said, straightening. “It has not been a pleasure meeting you.”
“Hold it,” Kurt said, getting to his feet. He came around the desk to stand directly in front of Dana. “I wasn’t kidding, you know. I have orders from Sheriff Hensley to inform you that a subpoena will be issued saying you’re to testify at the perp’s trial, and that you’re to remain in Whitehorn until said trial takes place.”
“You can’t do that!” Dana said, nearly shrieking, as she planted her hands on her hips. “This is a free country. You can’t hold me here against my will.
“I gave you my statement regarding what I witnessed during the attempted robbery. That man is as guilty as sin. You know it, I know it, and a jury will know it. I’ve met my obligations as a good little citizen, and I’m leaving. Right now.”
Kurt shook his head. “A statement read in court, or even a videotaped one that is shown to the jury, doesn’t do the job we want it to. It leaves a loophole, too big a risk of the perp getting off, because the defense attorney can’t cross-examine you.”
“Tough.”
“Dana, come on. There’s a decent human being, a kind old man, fighting for his life in the hospital at this very minute. You’re the guarantee that we can put the guy who shot Clem behind bars for a very long time. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Do you want that scum to walk, not pay for what he did to Clem?”
“No, of course not,” she said wearily, wrapping her hands around her elbows, “but you don’t understand. I’m not on vacation, just meandering across the country at a leisurely pace, stopping as the mood strikes. I have important business to attend to.”
“Where?”
“Not here!”
Kurt frowned. “What’s the big secret about your destination? And if you’re in such an all-fired hurry, why aren’t you on the main freeway? Whitehorn is way off the beaten track, you know.”
“Detective Noble,” Dana said, narrowing her eyes, “I am not on the witness stand. I don’t have to answer your questions regarding my personal agenda.”
“Fine. You can be as closemouthed as you want to be, but you’re not leaving Whitehorn.”
“You can’t do this.”
“Yes, Ms. Bailey, I can.”
Dana and Kurt glared at each other, the tension in the room nearly crackling with its intensity.
Blue eyes met blue eyes.
Bodies were stiff and tight with anger and frustration.
Then, slowly, very slowly, something shifted. Changed. The cold fury was pushed aside by a heat that began to thrum in the body of man, in the body of woman.
It was the heat of desire, causing hearts to race and the room to disappear into a haze of passion-laden mist, that swirled around them. Hot. So hot.
“Kurt?” Dana whispered.
“Dana, I…” he began, his voice raspy.
Dana blinked and took a step backward.
“No,” she said, then drew a steadying breath. She lifted her chin. “Does that usually work for you, Kurt? Have you practiced your seduction routine as often as you’ve p
racticed putting on your tie without a mirror?
“Well, you’ve got the wrong woman this time. I’m not falling prey to your oh-so-sexy gaze from your gorgeous blue eyes. I outgrew falling for that malarkey when I was Kimberly’s age.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Kurt said, none too quietly. “I’m not the one with the biggest blue eyes in the western hemisphere. Eyes that could melt metal if you put your mind to it. Well, listen up, lady. You’re not wiggling out of your humanitarian and legal duty in Whitehorn by turning on your womanly wiles.”
“You,” Dana said, nearly sputtering with anger, “are despicable.”
“And you are coming across as self-centered and selfish. You’re the one who can put behind bars the man who shot Clem, and, by damn, you’re going to do it.”
“But I can’t stay here. I…I have a sick aunt who needs me.” Dana pointed one finger in the air. “Yes, she’s desperately ill, and I’m rushing to her bedside. How will you live with the guilt if you hold me here and my grandmother—no, no, my aunt—dies?”
“Want to toss in a sick uncle and grandfather for good measure?” Kurt said dryly. He shook his head, then went back around his desk and sat down. “I’ll make some calls and find you a place to stay. The town of Whitehorn will pick up the tab.”
“I don’t believe this,” Dana said, sinking onto the wooden chair.
Dear heaven, this was crazy, she thought frantically. She was being detained by the police in Whitehorn, Montana, who had no idea she was being sought by the police in Chicago, Illinois. How was she going to prove her innocence if she was stuck in this dinky town? The nightmare that was her life was becoming worse by the minute.
“Kurt,” she said, striving for pleasant and friendly, “I’ll come back for the trial and testify my little heart out.”
“Oh?” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Come back from where?”
“Wherever I am. I’ll… Yes, I’ll call you every few days, and the minute you need me to testify—” Dana snapped her fingers “—I’ll pop right up.”
“No.”
“Kurt, please, I…”
Wife Most Wanted Page 3
