Right Wrong Guy

by Lia Riley

  “But . . .” Grandma grew quiet. “This is where the story takes a sad turn. The girl grew ill with consumption. When she died, Fielder was encouraged to marry a widow, plenty had their eye on him, a woman to raise his sons and warm his bed. He wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, he took that engagement ring and hid it on the property, never telling a soul where. And that’s the hidden rock.”

  Edie’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. Let me step out into the corridor.”

  Grandma shifted on her pillow. “You think Jimmy Fallon’s on now? This is past my bedtime, but he’s so handsome. It would be a treat.”

  Archer shook his head, was it possible to wipe the idea of Grandma’s Fallon crush from all memory? “And where’s it now?” he asked.

  “Where’s what?”

  “The ring. The hidden rock.”

  “Only Fielder Kane knows and dead men tell no tales.”

  “Are you saying the rock is missing?”

  “Hidden. Wouldn’t have quite the same ring if it was Can’t Find the Ring No More Ranch.”

  Archer shook his head. “This isn’t Middle Earth, Grandma. Rings don’t just disappear from memory in real life, do they?”

  “Middle huh?”

  “We’re getting sidetracked.”

  “No one’s ever found the ring. According to Brightwater: Small Town, Big Dreams, it’s a good thing too. Fielder’s good for nothing gambling son, Wild J, tore up the place trying to find it to gamble off. He’s the one that lost the land that became Five Diamonds Farm, not that I’m saying anything bad anymore about the current occupant, Annie Carson. So don’t run your mouth tattling to your big brother.”

  “Wonder where it could be,” Archer said, half to himself. Hidden Rock was a large working ranch and a diamond ring was no size at all. It would be like searching for a needle in a damn haystack.

  “What do you need a ring for?” Grandma asked suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you have any ideas about—”

  “Excuse me, Archer?” Edie cracked the door and peered inside. “I am going to have to go see Sawyer.”

  “I’m coming too.” He stood. “I’ll be back soon, Grandma. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  Grandma clicked on the TV with a grunt. “Jimmy’s on. Don’t hurry.”

  In the hall, Edie’s cheeks matched the stark white halls. Each freckle clearly defined.

  “What is it?”

  “They’ve found Reggie.”

  Chapter Twenty

  WALKER WAS THE next village over, a fifteen-minute drive from Brightwater. It hadn’t seen the same recent influx of money and out-of-town investment so it remained quieter, a sleepier cousin. The town’s main claim to fame was the Walker Inn, a quaint B&B in a Victorian house that was featured on the town postcards.

  Archer parked his brother’s truck down the road from the inn and killed the lights. Sawyer waited in his patrol car with his deputy, Kit.

  “Stay here,” Archer said to Edie. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  “Absolutely not,” Edie said, scrambling after him. “This is about me, I need to be involved.”

  Archer bit back a response. That might be true but he’d keep her safe tonight, no matter what happened.

  Sawyer gestured to the back of the vehicle, popping the locks. “Get in.”

  They climbed onto the backseat’s hard bench, where the criminals were normally held.

  Edie leaned forward and hooked her fingers through the bars. “You said you found him?”

  Sawyer nodded once. “He’s here all right.”

  “This guy’s a regular Sherlock,” Kit said, clapping a hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “A+ character profiling. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

  Archer gritted his teeth. As much as he was relieved Sawyer had tracked down Reggie’s whereabouts, Edie was his woman. This was a dumbass territorial instinct—and he was genuinely grateful that the scumbag would be feeling the heat he’d so readily inflicted on Edie—but damn it would be nice to be the hero for once.

  Sawyer turned. “I thought about what you told me about him, Edie. This guy has money, comes from money, if that’s the case, he’s not going to hole up just anywhere. He’s going to look for the best place in the area. And for now, that’s still Walker Inn. I know the owner and gave her a call, described Reggie, and she said a man checked in yesterday fitting the description. He’s using the name Richard Weatherby.”

  Edie gave a humorless snort. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

  “What so funny?” Archer asked.

  “Richard Weatherby is an uncle on his mother’s side. A Catholic priest.”

  “I hope he likes confession,” Archer snapped. “When do we roll?”

  “Not we,” Sawyer said firmly. “In the interest of Edie’s privacy, I’m keeping this operation small. Kit and I have it handled. We’re doing it on the up and up—no vigilante justice.”

  “Are you serious?” Archer said. “This guy has terrorized her. I’m beating his ass into next Tuesday.”

  Sawyer opened the door. “You stay put. I’m dead serious.”

  Kit exited with a sympathetic look and opened the back door. “For fresh air,” he said. “You can’t open the doors from the backseat, but do us a favor and stay put, huh? If this goes south, we’ll have our hands full.” He turned, jogging after Sawyer and they were alone.

  Archer held her hand and said nothing. He hated being weak and worse than useless, stuck in a cage, letting other men fight his battles.

  After a few minutes the sound of whistling started up the street behind them, an old tune, “Mac the Knife.”

  Edie recoiled. “It’s Reggie, he always does that.”

  Archer turned and there was a guy in the dark, his face briefly illuminating as he inhaled a cigarette.

  “He said he quit too,” she murmured.

  “He’s going down.”

  “Wait,” Edie said. But too late . . . Archer couldn’t hold back. He was out of the car’s open door, and face-to-face with the asshole himself.

  “Good evening,” Reggie said, moving to step around him.

  Good evening? Who actually spoke like that?

  “Not really,” Archer said softly. “At least not for you.”

  The asshole’s face looked bemused.

  Edie flew out. “Don’t touch him. He’s not worth it.”

  “Eden?” Reggie said, tossing his cigarette to the ground and grinding it under his wing-tip shoe, gripping the leather satchel he had slung over his shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  Archer would give the guy one grudging compliment. He kept his cool like a goddamn psychopath.

  Okay, not so much of a compliment.

  “I want to know one thing,” Eden said. “Why? Why would you do this to me?”

  “Why?” Reggie’s tone was a high-pitched mock. “Why, Reggie, why?” His hand snaked out, his long fingers wrapping around her throat. “You’re like an unwanted kitten begging to have the life choked out of you.” He pulled her close, the stale alcohol on his breath washing over her face. “Why? Because I could. And so I did.”

  Archer slammed his hand down on Reggie’s wrist, breaking his hold on Edie. “You sure did. And now I’ll do this.” He swung hard and true, connecting his fist to the underside of Reggie’s smug jaw. The man flew off his feet and sprawled on the lawn beside the sidewalk.

  “I hope that was worth it to you,” Reggie spat. “I’ll have you know that my lawyers are the best, and your ass is grass, pal.”

  “That a fact?” Archer grabbed him by the white collar. “You started this whole mess, and escalated it by putting your hands on Edie. Right now I only see one ass in the grass, and it ain’t mine.”

  Reggie fumbled in his leather satchel.

  Archer pinned his arms behind his back. “Grab that bag, please,” he directed Edie.

  She leaned close. “You always have loved your man purses, huh, Reg?”

  �
�Fuck you,” he snarled.

  “Hey now, mind your manners.” Archer made a low, dangerous noise in the back of his throat. “Otherwise you’re going to be eating those filthy words.”

  In his peripheral vision, Edie gasped, peering into the satchel.

  “What’s in there?” he said.

  “A pistol or handgun.” She glanced up, eyes wide. “Is there a difference? I don’t know if it’s loaded. I’ve never touched a weapon.”

  “Don’t start now.” Archer lowered his nose to touch Reggie’s. The other man breathed unevenly. He stunk of desperation and cheap wine. “What does a guy like you need a gun for?”

  Reggie tried to head butt him but Archer moved fast so he only whacked his face into empty air.

  “Please,” Edie said, touching his back. “Don’t get into trouble over me.”

  “Listen to her,” Reggie sneered. “She’s right. She’s not worth it.”

  “Funny,” Archer gripped him tighter. “To you, it seems she is worth a hell of a lot. Even for a Wall Street fat cat, five million dollars isn’t something to sneeze at.”

  “What happened to your money?” Edie asked. “You inherited a fortune when your grandfather passed away. Mother said—”

  “Gone,” Reggie snapped, a little breathless because Archer was twisting his shirt.

  “But how?”

  Reggie pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

  Archer shook him again, harder this time. “She asked you a question. After everything you’ve done, the least you can do is give her the courtesy of an answer.”

  “What the fuck?” he gasped as Archer squeezed tighter. “I can’t breathe.”

  “If you can talk, you can breathe,” Archer snapped.

  “Investments went bad.”

  “You mean you overreached,” said Edie.

  “You can never overreach,” Reggie bit back. “That’s what a person like you can’t ever understand. You’re wired to play it safe. Sit on the sidelines and watch people like me take what’s ripe for the plucking.”

  “That’s what you think? You honestly thought that I’d do nothing while you tried to ruin my life because you felt entitled to money that wasn’t yours?”

  “Five mill is chump change to you.”

  “Five million isn’t chump change to anyone unless it’s a chump like you,” she fired back.

  “Well, we both lose,” Reggie grunted. “I might not have the money. But you’ll be chased by that photo for the rest of your life.”

  “Of course I won’t be, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Your cousin won’t be able to scrub it off the internet. Once an image like that is out there, it stays forever. It’ll turn up time and time again like a bad penny. I hope it’s worth it.”

  Edie bent into his face. “The only person that photo damaged is you. Yours is the face everyone can see and you’re the one holding the camera. And what’s worse, you conned your lover into compromising herself for your dirty plot. But as for me, even if the world pointed a finger, the person I care most about is right here, and he isn’t bothered by any of this. He knows the real me and that’s enough.”

  “Is that what you told her?” Reggie leered at Archer, his teeth streaked red with blood from the earlier punch. “That’s a good one. Got to say, you’re playing a clever game.”

  Archer’s neck muscles tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “If I’m the bad cop in this situation, you’re the good. Buttering her up. Acting like her mousy attitude is something that doesn’t make you want to punch yourself in the face. Stick with it and I guess it will pay dividends. You a cowboy or something? Well good for you, you can probably score a couple of horses off her, plus a few rides. Although she’s no bucking filly, more like a dead fish—”

  Boom! Archer’s punch landed square in the nose with a sickening crack. Reggie fell flat on his back.

  “Holy shit,” came a shout down the street. “What the hell happened?” That was Kit. Sawyer hot on his heels.

  “I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re committing assault?” Sawyer snapped.

  “Trust me, bro.” Archer shook out his wrist. “He had it coming to him.”

  Sawyer groaned. “Fuck. Are you saying that’s the suspect?”

  “That’s Reggie,” Eden said, passing over the man purse. “He had a gun.”

  “Do you always have to do the opposite of what makes common sense?” Sawyer muttered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Archer said.

  “I give you one simple order and you break it. Was it on purpose? Or are you hardwired to make bad decision after bad decision? What if he presses charges? Am I supposed to lock you up too? My own brother? Give me a second,” Sawyer said to Kit, who turned to flash Archer a quick “oh shit” look. Kit and Archer raised hell throughout their youth. Whenever it got too out of hand, Sawyer got that tone, the one he used now. Archer stiffened as his brother drew near.

  “You should have let him go. Kit and I had it handled.”

  “He walked right by us,” Archer fired back. “I don’t see how I stole your thunder.”

  Sawyer stilled, his face a mask. The only sign his temper was growing was the quick tick in his jaw. “My thunder? Are you crazy? You punched him.”

  “Twice. No regrets.”

  His brother uttered a muffled curse. “It’s late so I’m going to get this bastard in lockup.” Sawyer hauled up Reggie’s limp body. “Reginald Winter, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. If you say anything it can be used against you in a court of law.”

  Reggie groaned. “I demand to speak to my lawyers.”

  Kit cuffed him. “You have the right to have a lawyer present during any questioning. If you can’t afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you.”

  Reggie spat on the ground. “I can afford enough lawyers to bury you and your entire shithole town.”

  “Not if you are needing to blackmail me for cash,” Edie muttered. “My guess is you are flat broke.”

  Reggie kicked out in her direction.

  “You’re drunk and you’ve been caught doing a stupid thing,” Edie continued. “I’m more sorry for you than angry. You’re pathetic. A guy like you had the chance to be anything he wanted. The fact you’ve blown it is no one’s fault but your own.”

  Sawyer and Kit hauled Reggie to the sheriff’s vehicle and got him inside.

  Archer stepped forward, addressing Sawyer’s broad back. “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said, about stealing your thunder, but not for having given the bastard what he deserved.”

  Sawyer turned to Kit. “Hey, man, can you give us a second? I need to have a word with my little brother.”

  Archer winced at the word little. What that really meant was “no-good, impulsive fuck up —”

  “What if this asshole counters with an assault charge to screw with the investigation?” Sawyer snapped the minute Kit shut the car door. “The law is there for a reason. You should have worked within it.”

  Archer pushed his shoulders back. “There is no law in this country that’s going to make me stand by and watch some sleazeball psycho put his hands on my girl. I’m sorry to have gotten my hands dirty and caused you extra hassle, but this had the potential to go to the worse kind of bad. You can say I did the wrong thing, but I know in my bones that my actions were right, even if they do cause a few headaches.”

  Edie settled a hand on his chest and turned to Sawyer “If a guy blackmailed Annie, threatened to destroy her life, then called her foul names to her face before trying to choke her, what would you have done?”

  Sawyer was quiet for a long time. He stared out into the darkness before turning back with a shrug. “Honestly?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’d have done exactly what Archer did.”

  Archer exhaled one slow long breath.

  Sawyer shook his head. “Look, it wasn’t the right thing to do, but it was also the exactly righ
t thing to do. I’m sorry I came down hard. The fact he had a gun, it scared me. You’re my brother. I can’t have something happen to you.”

  Scared? Sawyer was scared? “I never thought you were scared of anything.”

  His brother laughed then, a low rumbling chuckle. “You’re kidding yourself, man. When it comes to the people we love, we’re all vulnerable. I love Annie and her son. I love you. I love Grandma. I love Wilder, although Christ knows what he’s up to. When it comes to those people facing harm or hardship, sure I get scared. Absolutely. And sometimes I act like a shit. It’s because I care, but that doesn’t excuse it. I’m sorry.”

  And like that the years of private jealousy, the bubbling fear that Sawyer was beyond human, too perfect, popped. His brother was just a man. A good man, one of the best, but not better than him. They all were going through life trying to do the best they could for the people that mattered most.

  “Come here, you,” Archer tugged him into a bear hug and thumped on his back. Sawyer did the same in turn.

  As Sawyer drove away, Edie reached out a hand.

  “How are you?”

  “Forget me,” Archer said. “How are you?”

  “I was scared,” she said. “Scared you’d get hurt. But I’m not going to forget you. How you feel is important and that conversation with your brother seemed to mean a lot.”

  “It did,” Archer admitted. “I hate to admit it but I get jealous of that guy. He just always has seemed to do better.”

  “He’s not better, just different. He’s a good man and so are you.”

  “Thank you for believing in me, for not thinking I’m a big joke.”

  She smiled. “You make me laugh sometimes, but no, you’re not a joke.”

  “I love you,” he said.

  “You love me?” she said as if tasting the words, a bewildering flavor.

  “To the moon, but that’s only getting started. I love you to wherever the universe ends.”

  “But the universe doesn’t end.”

  “Exactly,” he replied, taking her hand in his and kissing it.