by Rita Herron
“Don’t be a snob, Hayes,” Taylor said.
His eyes darkened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You took me along today to watch the two of you try on those damn dresses, and you knew all along and didn’t tell me.”
His accusation stung. “I wanted to, Hayes, but it wasn’t my secret to share.”
Walt Caldwell, Link Hathaway’s chauffeur, drove up then and climbed out. Taylor glanced up and noticed his uniform. Her breath caught as the shiny brass button on Walt’s uniform flickered in the sunlight. Hayes was studying it, too.
No…It was a perfect match.
“Who else was aware you’d hired that private investigator?” Hayes asked.
“No one that I know of,” Taylor said.
His shoulders stiffened, but pain edged his voice. “Who else knew about me?”
She glanced at the Hathaway mansion. “Just Margaret’s father…I think.” She reached for his hand, covered it with her own. “He told Margaret that he’d checked on you over the years, that you were healthy and happy and in a good home, Hayes. Margaret…loved you. You have to believe that, to try and understand the circumstances—”
“I understand perfectly.” Hayes jerked his hand from hers, then spun from the driveway and onto the main road. “But your case just took on a new list of suspects, Taylor. Hathaway obviously didn’t want Margaret to find me, and if he discovered you’d hired a private investigator, he would have tried to bury the search. I’m going to have to question him about that but I’ll get a warrant first.”
Taylor winced and buckled her seat belt as Hayes pushed the gas and accelerated. But his words haunted her.
Link certainly would do anything to protect his daughter. He’d lied to Margaret to prevent her from looking for her child.
Had he discovered the P.I. was searching for Hayes, and killed Morris to keep the truth about Hayes quiet? She gripped the seat edge as Hayes took a turn too fast. Had Link tried to kill her to keep her from finding Margaret’s son?
Hayes cursed as he checked the rearview mirror, then increased his speed. “Hold on, we’ve got a tail.”
She glanced over her shoulder and saw a dark sedan with tinted windows speeding up their rear. Tires screeched as they careened around a curve, then a shot pinged off the back glass, shattering the window.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hellfire and damnation!” Hayes swerved, tires screeching as another bullet bounced through the car and grazed the seat. The SUV skidded toward a stop sign, sliding through and barely managing to miss an Expedition flying the other way. The driver honked madly, and Hayes checked the rearview mirror to get a look at the shooter, but the windows were so dark that he couldn’t distinguish a face. Then the sedan spun off on a side street and headed the other way.
“Taylor, are you okay?”
She’d ducked in the seat and covered her head with her hands. “Yes. Are you?”
“Yeah, but I’d like to choke that son of a bitch in the sedan.”
“Is he gone?”
“It looks that way.”
He turned into Cantara Hills, then on to the street to Taylor’s estate. She uncovered her head and sat up, eyes wide with fear. Adrenaline had flooded his system, and he had to force himself to ease up on the gas and slow down.
“Did you see him?” Taylor asked.
“No, the windows were tinted too dark.” He pulled up to the gate and slid the key card into the slot, then drove up the winding drive to her garage. Sweat had beaded on his neck and forehead, and he wiped it away, grateful at the moment to be at Taylor’s mansion with closed gates.
At least she’d be temporarily safe.
They both climbed out, the silence a deafening roar charged with questions and the tension from the past hour.
He verified that the security system was on, then allowed Taylor to unlock the door and punch in the code.
“I need to bag these bullet casings and send them to forensics.”
She nodded. “Is there anything I can do, Hayes?”
Her question was loaded with innuendo, with a reference to the fact that he’d just learned Margaret Hathaway was his mother. But Hayes couldn’t deal with that now, not with her. He felt too raw, too…exposed.
“No. I’m going to call Brody and Egan so we can discuss the investigation.”
“I’m sorry, Hayes. For everything.”
The sincerity in her voice tugged at his heart, one he’d guarded for too long. One he couldn’t open to her now, especially with her close friendship to the woman who’d given birth to him then tossed him away.
“You realize that the man who rummaged through your office the night he tried to strangle you in the pool might have been looking for the information from Morris.”
Her eyes flickered with distress. “I suppose it’s possible.”
“When did you hire him? Before the car bomb?”
Her face paled and she nodded. “But I didn’t tell anyone.”
Hayes frowned. “If Morris was poking around, Hathaway could have heard about it. And judging from his reaction, he might have hired someone to find that report.”
Pain darkened her eyes. “Hayes, I know he was tough tonight, but I don’t really think he’d hire someone to kill me.”
Hayes arched a brow. “Why not, Taylor? He’d do anything to protect his wealth, his daughter and his social standing. And your search threatened all of that.”
“He only wanted to protect Margaret, Hayes. She was so young when she had you—”
He jerked his hand up, cutting off any further discussion. “Please, spare me, Taylor. I know how you rich people think.”
Anger reddened Taylor’s face. “You are such a snob, Hayes. I understand you’re hurting now and that you received a bum rap, but if you’d knock that chip off your shoulder for a second, you’d see that not everyone who has money is evil.” Her ragged breath pierced the air. “Margaret is kind and loving and has felt guilty about giving you up for years. Why do you think she never married? She didn’t think she deserved happiness because she regretted giving up her child.”
“I’ve seen her picture in the society pages,” Hayes snapped. “She didn’t look so miserable to me.”
“She tried to make a life,” Taylor argued. “But she thought about you every day, she told me that. She even funds a teen center for pregnant girls to offer them counseling because she never received any when she needed it most. Only pressure from her father to give you up for adoption and his assurance that you’d be better off.”
“Right.” His voice dripped sarcasm. “The truth was that Link Hathaway was better off without a bastard child ruining his life. But don’t worry, Taylor, I don’t intend to ask him or Margaret for anything.” His chest ached from the pressure of not shouting at her.
Memories of their heated interlude the night before rose to taunt him. She’d known the truth then. “Is that why you kissed me, why you came on to me, Taylor? Because you felt sorry for me and wanted to soften the blow for your friend, hoping I’d understand and not make trouble?”
Hurt and anger reared in her eyes, and she reached back and slapped him. “I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing. You can be a bastard, Hayes.”
His jaw stung. “Yes, well, that I am.”
Taylor sighed. “Oh, God…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, Hayes.”
He spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t want pity sex because you feel sorry for me.”
Her lip quivered, a dozen emotions flaring in her eyes. Hurt. Anger. Sympathy. Compassion. Desire.
She wet her lips, then reached up and cupped his face with her hands. “I didn’t kiss you out of pity,” she whispered. “And you know that, Hayes.”
She dragged him toward her, fusing her mouth with his.
Pure hunger and raw primal need raced through his blood, obliterating his fury and erasing common sense. He wanted to forget the case. Forget that she’d kept secrets from him and made him feel inadequate and vulnerable.
That she was best friends with his birth mother, the woman he’d tried so hard to forget all his life.
That she’d seen him endure one of the most painful moments of his life.
A maelstrom of emotions clogged his throat, but she ran her hands along his jaw, scraping rough beard stubble, and moaning as she plunged her tongue inside his mouth.
He sucked it in, drawing in the essence of her sensuality as he tasted the passion seeping through her pores and flaming his body with a need so strong that he clutched her to him and deepened the kiss. She stroked his shoulders, then lowered her hands to claw at his back.
His body hardened, his sex throbbing and aching for fulfillment, for her. But reality gnawed at him, chopping away at his hunger and rekindling the pain raging below the surface of that unbidden lust.
He ordered himself to pull away, but she tore her mouth from his, her eyes hooded and molten hot with hunger and the unbridled passion that steeped below the surface. Her ragged breathing echoed in the tense silence between them.
“Did that feel like pity to you, Hayes?”
She squared her shoulders, a dare glinting in her eyes.
No, it didn’t. But the passion between them was strictly physical. Stemmed from the danger confronting her and the adrenaline from their earlier attack.
When things returned to normal, she would write him off and go back to her rich men.
But he’d remember that for a moment he’d had a beautiful heiress in his arms. And he’d be haunted by the fact that he’d just met his mother.
Hell, he was a Texas Ranger. He couldn’t forget that he was here to protect her.
And that the reason someone had tried to kill her might be because of him. Because she’d hired a P.I. to find Margaret’s son. That his own grandfather wished he would go away and blamed Taylor for screwing things up.
“Did it, Hayes?”
He steeled himself against the blatant hunger threatening to rob him of his sanity.
“It doesn’t matter what it is,” he said coldly. “I’m here to do a job. To find out who’s trying to kill you.” He took another step back, knowing if he didn’t, he’d cave and drag her back into his arms. He possessed only so much resistance, and she was hacking at it with a sharp knife.
“You almost died three times, Taylor. And now I know it might be because of me.”
Her soft gasp filled the air. “Hayes…no, it’s not your fault.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m going to find who’s targeted you, Taylor. Then I’ll leave Cantara Hills, and you and Margaret and Link Hathaway will never have to worry about me bothering you again.” His voice held a razor-sharp, firm edge, yet feelings for her simmered beneath the edge of his calm. Feelings he didn’t welcome but was helpless to stop.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he admired her loyalty to her friends, the fact that she’d faced his wrath because she’d respected Margaret’s right to tell him the truth. That she even fought to convince him that Margaret really cared.
And when that SOB had shot at them earlier, all he had thought about was protecting Taylor, not letting any harm come to her because he couldn’t stand to see her in pain.
Or dead.
“Hayes—”
“Shh.” He raked his gaze over her, knowing that if he didn’t leave her this second, he’d do something stupid, like make love to her.
Or fall for her and lose his heart.
So he simply stroked her hair behind her ear. “I promised to keep you safe, and I will. And if Hathaway tried to kill you or hired someone to do his dirty work, I will put the SOB behind bars, even if he is my grandfather.”
Barely holding on to his ironclad control, he retreated to the guest room to sort out the clues to the case. First he had to call Egan and inform him of what he’d learned. That now they had additional suspects.
That a button from his father’s uniform had been found at the scene of a murder investigation. An investigation that now led back to Egan’s father’s boss.
That Walt was now at the top of their list of suspects because he would do anything for Link Hathaway, was loyal to him to a fault.
God…how had things gotten so screwed up?
Egan and his father had never been close. In fact, Walt had been cold to Egan. But how would Egan feel when he found out that his father might be the killer they were working their asses off to find?
TAYLOR’S BODY TINGLED with need as she retreated to her office. Never had a man gotten her so tied up in knots. One minute she wanted to slap Hayes out of his ever-loving mind, and the next she wanted to take him to her bedroom and make love for hours. Maybe days.
He was so darn stubborn.
So sure that her money was a barrier between them when it didn’t have to be that way. Love was all that mattered….
Love? Good grief, she couldn’t be falling in love with Hayes Keller.
Not Margaret’s son, a man who had too much pride for his own good. Would that pride prevent him from forgiving Margaret?
And what about Margaret’s father?
Had Link Hathaway tried to have her killed because she’d nosed into his business? God…if so, Margaret would be devastated.
Why was all this happening, especially right before Margaret’s wedding, when she was finally going to be happy?
She pinched the bridge of her nose, her head throbbing from tension. Knowing she’d go crazy if she didn’t keep busy, she accessed her computer files to finalize the plans for the party she was giving to honor Margaret’s engagement.
She flipped on the small television in the corner and listened to the news while she worked, a news clip catching her eye. Kenneth Sutton onstage, giving a speech about his political views and plans for the state when he was elected governor. Tammy, dressed immaculately in a linen designer summer dress, smiled behind him, the perfect politician’s wife. The camera panned sideways and landed on Devon Goldenrod, Margaret’s fiancé. Devon’s sandy-blond hair and Armani suit showcased his handsome face and athletic build, but something about his smile seemed forced.
He had always been second to Kenneth Sutton, second in the city council election four years earlier. Second in the class where the two men had graduated together.
Hmm…had Devon minded?
She shook off the thought. Now that Kenneth was running for governor, Devon was a shoe-in for the city council.
So who would want to make Kenneth look bad or frame him for the illegal bids? She dug through the files again searching for answers.
Anything to distract herself from Hayes in the other room and to keep from going to him.
HAYES HAD SET UP THE SITTING room that adjoined the guest bedroom suite as an office with a whiteboard for notes and a corkboard where he tacked photos of each of the suspects in the case and the crimes and arrests leading up to Taylor’s attack. Montoya, who had killed Kimberly McQuade. Carlson Woodward who had tried to kill Caroline Stallings.
And his main suspects. Miles Landis. Kenneth Sutton. Tammy Sutton. Now he needed to add Link Hathaway and Walt Caldwell. But he had to talk to Egan first. He owed his friend a heads-up.
He phoned Egan and asked him to get Brody and meet him at the estate. While he waited he reviewed the case from the beginning, trying to piece it all together.
Wet shoe prints had been found on Caroline’s floor during the break-in and attempt on Caroline’s life, but forensics hadn’t determined the source. The print belonged to a size eleven but anyone could have worn them to conceal his real foot size. The Rangers believed those shoes belonged to Miles because they’d seen them on the surveillance video footage and seen a pair in Miles’s gym bag. Of course, someone could have stolen them.
The explosive devices in Caroline’s garage and Taylor’s car were set on timers and were low-tech, meaning they didn’t require a skilled person to make them. With the Internet, any of their suspects could have found directions and followed them.
The house key that Caroline had given Tammy and Kenneth
was still missing. And the toxicology report on Carlson Woodward proved that he’d been drugged. The drugs could have triggered his violent behavior and spurred him to try to kill Caroline.
The question was—had he voluntarily taken the drugs or had someone else drugged him?
Someone who was now trying to kill Taylor?
Although Taylor claimed no one else knew about the private investigator’s search for Margaret’s son—him—so that wouldn’t have been their motive.
On to the more recent facts. The hair he’d found the night of the pool attack on Taylor belonged to Tammy Sutton and proved she’d been at Taylor’s, but it could have been left at any time.
The button from Morris’s office belonged to Walt Caldwell who they had to question.
The bullet casings from the private investigator’s office, and the bullet casings from his SUV had both come from a .38. But where was the gun?
Several prints had been found at the private investigator’s office, including Taylor’s but not Link’s or Walt’s. And two others that weren’t in the system but might be useful later if they needed to match them with an arrest.
The buzzer for security chirped, and he answered it, then let Egan and Brody in. A frown marred Brody’s face as he strode into the room.
The tension was only going to get thicker, Hayes thought. Especially between him and Egan.
Egan jammed his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned against the wall. “You got a lead on Taylor’s attacker?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. There’s definitely been a new development.”
Brody crossed his arms. “Spill it, Keller.”
Hayes took a deep breath. “I found out the reason Taylor went to meet that private investigator and maybe the motive for his murder.”
“Good work,” Egan said. “Fill us in.”
Hayes cleared the cobwebs from his throat. “Margaret Hathaway had a baby when she was fifteen, but gave the baby up for adoption. Taylor hired Morris to find out where the child was.” He hesitated. “And he did.”
“You think that’s what got him killed?” Brody asked.
