JUSTICE IS COMING

by Delores Fossen

  Her chin came up. “I had someone take it from a cup you used at the diner across the street.”

  That seemed like a lot of trouble to go through, but then Beatrice was worried about his paternity.

  “I had your DNA compared to Jack’s, and it’s a match,” she continued. “That doesn’t mean you have a right to our money. I checked, and since Kirby adopted you, that’ll make it next to impossible for you to try to make any claims against Jack’s estate.”

  Declan looked at the results. It was a standard lab test that he was used to reading, but he wasn’t used to seeing his name associated with someone else who was supposed to be his biological father.

  “The test results are fake,” Kirby said. He met Beatrice’s gaze. “I’m Declan’s father, so there’s no reason for Jack or you to come after him.”

  Beatrice shook her head. “I had the result tested at a reputable lab.”

  “BioMedical,” Kirby provided. “I have a lot of friends in this field. Law enforcement, too. And I had flags put on Declan’s name in case anyone tried to have his DNA tested. The lab called this morning and said there’d been a mix-up and the results had been released to you.”

  “The real results?” someone asked from the doorway. It was Jack.

  Both Declan and Eden groaned. This meeting was already complicated enough without adding a paternity candidate to it.

  “Beatrice got fake results,” Kirby insisted. “I had a DNA test done years ago. One that I know wasn’t tampered with, and Declan’s my son.”

  Declan braced himself for Jack’s denial, but the man only lifted a piece of paper that he was holding. “I heard Beatrice making arrangements for the DNA test, and I paid a lab tech to do a second test and give me the results.” He walked closer, handed the paper to Declan.

  “You what?” Beatrice snapped. “You went behind my back?”

  Jack’s eyes darkened. “You went behind mine.”

  That brought on an argument as to which one of them had done the right thing, but Declan tuned them out. Eden obviously did, too, because she looked at both the papers with him.

  Hell.

  What was this about?

  “How can this be?” Eden asked, and her voice was loud enough to stop the Vinsons’ argument. Both Jack and Beatrice turned to Declan and her.

  Declan lifted the paper that Beatrice had given him. “This test claims that Jack is my biological father.” He lifted the other one. “And the one that Jack gave me says that Kirby is.”

  Jack came closer, snatched the papers from Declan’s hands and looked at them. He cursed. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “No joke,” Kirby answered. “I didn’t pay the tech to falsify the result, only to alert me that a DNA test had been ordered so I could do some damage control.”

  Beatrice had a look at the papers as well, and she looked as confused as her husband. “Who would have done this? And what’s the truth?”

  “I’ve already told you the truth,” Kirby continued. “Declan is mine. Now, I know that makes him a target in Jack’s eyes. He might want to eliminate him to get back at Stella and me—”

  “I don’t want to eliminate anyone,” Jack snapped. “I just want the truth.”

  Kirby looked him straight in the eye. “He’s my son, not yours.” His gaze shifted to Beatrice. “And that gives you no motive for murder.”

  Beatrice gasped as if insulted that he would accuse her of such a thing, but she sure didn’t deny it. She did, however, look at the papers again. “Who would have faked the DNA-test results?”

  “Someone who wanted to incite you to kill Declan.” Kirby’s attention shifted to Jack. “And that’s the same reason you got the real results. That gives both of you motives to try to kill him.”

  It was true. But the problem was, who had created the fakes? Either of them could have, whether to draw suspicion off themselves, or in Jack’s case, maybe he wanted his wife to commit murder. Better than a divorce, where he’d have to split his assets with her. Of course, Beatrice could have faked the results to do the same to Jack. With Jack behind bars for murder, she’d have control of all the money.

  So they were back to square one.

  “I won’t let either of you hurt him,” Kirby said. And before Declan realized what he was doing, Kirby reached beneath his pillow and drew his gun.

  He pointed it right at Jack.

  Kirby’s eyes narrowed, too. “I think it’s time for you to confess everything you know about these attacks.”

  “I know nothing about them.” Jack’s hand moved toward his jacket, but Declan turned his own gun in the man’s direction.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Declan warned him. “Nerves are a little bit raw right now.” He glanced at Kirby. “Yours, too. Why don’t you put that gun away and let me handle this.”

  But Kirby obviously didn’t listen. He turned that frosty glare on Beatrice. “Start talking.”

  She frantically shook her head. “I don’t know anything. I’m certainly not responsible for what’s going on with your son.” Beatrice made that particular label sound like a disease. “And I’m leaving. I won’t stand here and be subjected to the likes of you.”

  Beatrice turned and walked out, practically knocking the deputy off balance. Declan was sure she’d actually left because he heard her heels clacking on the tile floor.

  “You should go, too,” Declan warned Jack.

  Jack’s mouth tightened, and he mumbled something Declan didn’t catch before he, too, stormed out.

  “You need to get Clayton on this,” Kirby said the moment Jack was out of the room. He released a long, labored breath.

  All of his foster brothers were already neck deep in this case and their regular investigations. Added to that, his sisters-in-law’s lives were on hold because they couldn’t return to the ranch until it was safe. At the rate they were going, that might never happen.

  “More trouble?” Stella said from the doorway. She gave both Declan and Eden a concerned glance, but most of her concern was for Kirby. And he needed it. Kirby looked weaker than ever, and Stella went to him.

  “Guess it won’t do any good to say you shouldn’t have had these meetings,” she scolded him. Stella took the water glass from the stand and made Kirby take a sip.

  Declan saw it then. The affection between the two. Maybe even the love.

  Why hadn’t he seen it earlier?

  Maybe because he’d been too wrapped up in his own life and Kirby’s illness. Now he was wrapped up in keeping Eden and himself alive. Kirby and Stella, too, because despite Kirby’s warning, Declan figured Jack, Beatrice and even Leonard could all come back.

  Declan walked closer to the deputy. “I need you to call the sheriff and have him beef up security here at the hospital. I don’t want the Vinsons or Leonard Kane allowed back in the building, much less anywhere near Kirby.”

  The deputy nodded and took out his phone to make the call just as Declan’s own cell buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw the caller was Unknown again.

  “I think it’s your father,” he relayed to Eden, and that sent her hurrying across the room toward him.

  Declan answered the call and put it on speaker.

  “O’Malley, I want you to take Eden someplace safe and keep her there until this is over.”

  Yeah, it was her father all right, and he sounded out of breath. As if he was running. Or chasing someone.

  “What’s wrong?” Declan asked.

  “Something’s finally right. I know who’s trying to kill you, and I’m going to stop it. This ends now.”

  And with that, Zander hung up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The waiting and not knowing were getting to her. By now, Eden figured she should be accustomed to both, but she obviou
sly wasn’t. She felt raw. Like one big giant nerve.

  Nothing felt safe. Not even the ranch, though Declan had asked the hands to arm themselves and be on the lookout for anyone suspicious. It was only after those measures that Declan had brought her to wait for her father’s call or any other update they could get on the case.

  So far, they’d had zero in either department.

  No more calls from her father. No breaks in the investigation. So they were in wait-and-worry mode. Well, she was anyway. Declan had disappeared into another part of the house just minutes earlier, so maybe he’d found something productive to do.

  Not her, though. Unless pacing qualified as productive.

  She was tired of pacing. Tired of the feeling of panic crawling over her. But she was afraid to sit for fear the exhaustion would take over and she’d collapse. That was the last thing Declan needed after everything he’d been through today.

  And what they still had to face.

  Maybe her father could fix this and put an end to the danger. She prayed that was possible. But she didn’t want that at the expense of his life. She had enough emotions to deal with without adding grief and guilt.

  Speaking of guilt, she heard another sound of it coming her way. Declan. A guilty feeling of a different kind. Eden turned and spotted him making his way into the family room. He’d taken off his jacket, but still had on his holster over a great-fitting plain white T-shirt.

  Mercy.

  The man could make something that simple look good, along with helping some of the tension slide right from her body.

  His walk was a swagger. Natural, no doubt, and his nondesigner jeans fit him like a glove. He had a drink in his left hand and was sipping from another in his right.

  “You need this,” he said, handing her the glass.

  Even though Eden wasn’t much of a drinker, she took a sip anyway, and the cool whiskey burned her throat all the way down.

  Declan took another gulp of what appeared to be a quadruple shot. Apparently, he needed it, too. And he tipped his head to the stairs. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you get some rest and I’ll keep watch.”

  The prospect was tempting, especially since the security system was on and there were a half dozen ranch hands guarding the place.

  “Why don’t we both rest,” she suggested. The next sip of whiskey went straight to her head. Or maybe that was just Declan’s doing. The man was potent stuff.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “If we rest together, it won’t be restful.”

  True. And while that would complicate the heck out of both of their lives, it was tempting. Even more so when he leaned in and brushed one of those mind-numbing kisses on her lips. However, he didn’t carry it any further. He just lit that particular fire, stepped away and leaned against the wall, facing her.

  That didn’t help, either.

  He was drop-dead hot, and it didn’t matter how bad their situation got. He was still drop-dead hot.

  “Your father wouldn’t approve anyway,” Declan said, as if trying to talk himself out of whatever he was feeling.

  And what was he feeling?

  Eden realized they’d yet to talk about something so, well, normal. It’d all been criminal reports, interviews with suspects and dodging bullets. Hardly the right atmosphere for talking about what was going on inside their hearts. But there was a lot going on inside hers.

  “My father definitely wouldn’t approve,” she agreed. “But he’s never had a say in my personal life.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “With the way you defend him, I thought you were close.”

  “No. It’s complicated.” But then she laughed. “Something you know a little about.”

  “Yeah.” He groaned and sank to the floor, his back still against the wall.

  Even though it was a dangerous move, Eden went closer, stooped and sat down beside him. “Want to talk about Kirby and Stella?”

  He stayed quiet for so long that Eden was certain he would say no. But he had another large sip of his whiskey. “I want to hate them, but I can’t. Because I’ve thought of Kirby as my father for a long time now.”

  “And Stella?”

  Declan lifted his shoulder and set his whiskey glass on the floor. “I remember her looking out for me at Rocky Creek. Once, Jonah Webb, the headmaster, was giving me a beating, and Stella stepped in and stopped it. She nearly got fired. After that, she always tried to keep herself between me and Webb. Sometimes, she succeeded.”

  It crushed her heart to hear what he’d been through at that horrible place. She’d read accounts of it, but nothing in those accounts told her of the physical abuse Declan had gone through.

  “Don’t.” He leaned in, gave her another of those idle kisses. “No need to feel sorry for me. All of that happened a long time ago.”

  “It’s the reason you became a marshal.”

  He nodded. “That and Kirby.” He didn’t kiss her, but he did run his thumb over her bottom lip and then brought it to his own mouth to taste.

  Her stomach did a serious flip-flop.

  He didn’t make a move to turn that into a real kiss, so Eden did. She moved in on him, pressing her mouth to his and sliding her hand around the back of his neck.

  Declan made a sound. Part groan, part grunt. But he didn’t push her away. Nope. He hauled her to him and kissed her until all the nerves were gone. Well, the regular nerves. The heat and the sensations of pleasure were right there, urging her on.

  But he didn’t urge her for long. Declan eased back. Stared at her. “If I take you now, you’ll regret it.”

  “You’re sure? Because this doesn’t feel like regret.”

  He chuckled. Like the rest of him, that was hot, too. Of course, in the state she was in, his breathing was a turn-on.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” she asked.

  “Yeah. You do the same to me. That’s why you’ll take a shower alone. Clear your head. Then we can...talk if you’re still feeling up to it.”

  He was giving her an out. An out Eden wasn’t sure she wanted. But it was something he insisted on, because he got to his feet and helped her to hers.

  Another kiss. Much too quick. And he put his hand on the small of her back to get her moving up the stairs. “I’ll make some calls and see if anyone has any news.”

  That couldn’t hurt, but she figured if there truly was news, someone would have already called. He led her to the guest room, where she’d stayed the night before. It was just up the hall from his. Two doors down.

  But he didn’t head there.

  He waited in the doorway of her room, watching her. And she would have been blind not to see the heat in his eyes.

  “You’re sure I need some time?” she asked.

  He smiled again. That slow, lazy smile that turned her to liquid fire. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

  The seconds passed, slowly. His smile went south. And he pushed himself away from the doorjamb.

  “But then we both know I’m not a gentleman,” he drawled.

  * * *

  DECLAN CAME TOWARD her and hauled her into his arms.

  He figured this was a few steps past stupid, but that didn’t stop him. In fact, it’d take Eden telling him no to stop, and she definitely didn’t say no. She pulled him closer and made a sound of what appeared to be relief. Declan totally got that. Eden and he had been skirting each other for two days now, and this blasted attraction had reached a boiling point.

  One touch of his mouth to hers and the boiling point seemed cool compared to what he was feeling inside. It’d been a while since he’d wanted a woman this much, and in the back of his mind, he knew that was a lie. He’d never wanted anyone this much, even if she was the very woman he should be backing away from.

  And maybe tha
t was the bottom line here.

  This was forbidden, and maybe that made it feel so damn necessary. And so much hotter.

  He kissed her hard. Too hard. And while they fought to get closer, they off balanced themselves and darn near fell on their butts. All in all, the floor wouldn’t have been a bad place to be, but he needed to get to his room, where he had some condoms. He didn’t want to double his trouble by having unprotected sex. Protected sex was going to be memorable enough. And apparently inevitable.

  Without breaking the kiss, Declan maneuvered Eden out of the guest room and in the direction of his room.

  “You’d better not stop,” she said against his mouth.

  He wouldn’t stop. Common sense was out the window now, and he was in take-her-now mode. Worse, Eden was in the same take-me frame of mind, so Declan figured he stood no chance of slowing this down. He got her inside his bedroom and kicked the door shut.

  She went after his T-shirt, only to curse the holster that got in the way. Declan helped her with that, dropping the gun and holster on the nightstand, and they tumbled onto the bed. The feather mattress swelled up on both sides of them, cocooning them, and with one swift move, Eden was on top of him, straddling him.

  Her eyes were wild and hot. Like the rest of her. And she finally got his T-shirt off and sent it sailing across the room. Now she slowed a little. Her gaze slid over his bare chest.

  “No,” she mumbled.

  Declan glanced down to see what’d prompted that, and her attention was on the four-inch scar on the side of his chest. But only briefly. Her gaze went from the scar to the rest of him, including his stomach and lower, to the zipper of his jeans.

  “No?” he asked.

  “Not that kind of no,” Eden quickly clarified. “No as in I was hoping your body wasn’t as good as my imagination thought it’d be. But you’re better than anything I could have imagined.”

  He was flattered. And confused. “So why the no?”

  “Because with a body like yours, you’re used to wow, and I don’t have a wow kind of body.”

  Declan seriously doubted that. The woman burned him to ash, and he figured whatever was beneath those clothes would only make the burn faster and hotter.