Wyatt turned casually. “While I was in here, nobody said anything, period.”
“If anybody’s guilty of attempted murder, it’s her,” Marquez accused. “She set off a huge explosion right next to me. Nearly blew me up!”
Wyatt turned back toward the door.
“No, wait.” Marquez tried to stand, but with his wrist handcuffed to the chair arm, he couldn’t. “I swear, I don’t know anything about any murder!”
“I didn’t say murder,” Wyatt replied. “I said attempted murder. But first things first. What were you doing in the lab?”
“I was just looking for something that belonged to me. I was hoping to get it and get out before anyone saw me.”
“Something? What?”
Marquez shook his head and laughed uneasily. “I can promise you, it has nothing to do with the bodies you’re looking for.”
Wyatt leaned over the table. “Listen to me, Marquez. If you were dancing any faster around my questions, you’d screw your head right off your shoulders. Now, I’ll be happy to help you with that, but I’d like to get a straight answer first.” He sat down. “Now, does your breaking and entering and destruction of evidence have anything to do with the fact that you’re an EMT, and one of our skeletons has been washed in acid?”
Marquez jerked in surprise. “How’d you…? I mean, what makes you say that?”
“Not me. Dr. Jacobson.” Wyatt jerked his thumb in Nina’s direction. “She’s a forensic anthropologist. So she notices things like acid-etched skeletons.”
Marquez turned to her. “Then you know that skeleton has nothing to do with your case.”
But Wyatt didn’t give Nina a chance to answer. He broke in. “Nothing to do with my case? It was right there in the middle of my crime scene, with the other bones.”
The young man hesitated as sweat broke out on his forehead. After a few seconds, he shrugged. “Okay, look. The bones came from the medical school. They supplied skeletons to area schools. I’d sneak into the room where the students would clean the bones, and grab something whenever I had the chance.” He grinned nervously. “For a prank. That’s all.”
Nina gasped, and her fingers flew to her mouth.
Both Wyatt and Marquez turned to stare at her.
“I know where I’ve seen you before,” she said, her voice muffled by her fingers. “You dated Marcie.”
“Lady, I’ve never met you. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marquez replied.
She turned to Wyatt. “I recognize that grin. She e-mailed me a photo of the two of them. They were friends who dated off and on.” Her heart was pounding, but her brain was racing even faster.
EMT. Marcie. Terrified.
“You kidnapped Marcie,” Nina cried. “You pulled her hair out by the roots and stuck the necklace in it and planted it at the burial site with the remains, didn’t you? Making sure we’d be able to find it.”
Marquez looked panicked. He spread his hands. “I swear, I don’t—”
Wyatt stood. “You’re wasting my time here. If you don’t start talking in the next fifteen seconds, I’m charging you with everything I listed, plus resisting arrest, plus anything else I can get away with. In fact, I will add murder. The murder of Marcie James.”
Marquez’s face turned a sickly pale. “No! No! You can’t. Please. Marcie’s not dead!”
Wyatt glanced at Nina. She was frozen in shock, her eyes wild and bright as she stared at Marquez.
“How do you know that? What did you have to do with Marcie James’s kidnapping?” Wyatt quizzed.
“I was…I just did what Marcie wanted me to do,” Marquez explained. “You don’t get it. She planned the fake kidnapping. She wanted to escape. Needed to. She was sure somebody was trying to kill her.”
Nina’s heart nearly stopped. Marcie had faked her own kidnapping. She’d disappeared on purpose. She’d almost killed Wyatt.
Everything Nina had believed for the past two years was suddenly turned upside down. She’d blamed Wyatt for causing her best friend’s death. But now she had to face the truth.
Her best friend had almost killed the man Nina loved.
Loved?
Dear heavens, did she love him? Her heart was beating again, so fast and so loudly she was sure Wyatt and Marquez could hear it. It wasn’t possible. Not after three days.
Why couldn’t she take a hint? His brusque dismissal of her apology this morning should have squelched any blossoming attraction caused by their night of lovemaking. But strangely, it hadn’t.
One night, and she was already in too deep. Not only had the sex been the best she’d ever had, but lying next to him, protected by his strong body, had awakened feelings inside her that she’d long feared she would never experience again.
She’d spent her childhood surrounded by a shield of protection. Her father and her older brother had taken care of her. They’d been her knights in shining armor. But then her dad had died, and less than a year later, her older brother was gone, too, killed overseas in combat.
The feeling that nothing could harm her had died with them.
Until now.
Dear heavens, what was she going to do when this investigation was over? Now that Wyatt had made her love him?
His voice interrupted her thoughts. “Did Marcie’s plans include trying to kill a Texas Ranger?” he thundered, his expression dark and ominous.
Marquez winced. “Hey, Marcie gave me that gun. I’d never shot a gun before in my life. Didn’t you see how wild the shots were? It was a complete accident that I hit you. I’m sorry, man.”
“You’re sorry?” Nina burst out. To her surprise, Wyatt leaned back in his chair and appeared to relax. It was a few seconds before he spoke.
“Where is she?” he muttered.
Marquez’s eyes widened.
“Damn it!” Wyatt’s fist came down on the table, bouncing the pens. “Where. Is. She?”
Marquez shrugged. “I—I don’t know, man. She hid out with me for a few days. Then she said she had to disappear. Said she had a friend who would help her.”
“Who?” asked Wyatt.
Marquez shrugged again. “I don’t know—”
“Don’t give me that. Male or female? Here in town?” Wyatt quizzed.
“I said I don’t know.”
Wyatt glared at him. “Listen, bud. Right now you are on the hook for a very serious crime that carries serious time. The only way I can help you is if you cooperate. So if you know anything about why Marcie felt she had to disappear, you’d better start talking.”
“All I know is she was afraid of somebody. Terrified. And she wouldn’t tell me who.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“I swear, man. She said if I knew, I’d be in danger, too.”
“So you lied, stole and nearly killed for her, and you didn’t know why you were doing it?”
Marquez wiped the sweat off his face with his shirtsleeve and then eyed Wyatt narrowly. “Just exactly what can you do for me? I mean, if I tell you who I think she might have been afraid of?”
Nina watched Wyatt’s expression turn black and his fists clench. She held her breath, but to his credit, he didn’t go across the table at Marquez.
“I’ll consider recommending assault with intent, rather than attempted first-degree murder,” Wyatt said.
Marquez swallowed visibly. “I think she was scared of her ex.”
Wyatt’s expression didn’t change.
“I knew it!” Nina burst out. “I knew it! Marcie was afraid Shane would kill her.”
Chapter Seventeen
It took another hour or so for Wyatt to wrap up the paperwork and call a Ranger from Austin to come and take Marquez into custody, but finally, by eleven, Wyatt and Nina were back at the Bluebonnet Inn. As they climbed the stairs, Wyatt saw how tired she was by the droop of her shoulders and the heaviness of her step.
At the top of the stairs, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her
toward her door. “You’re exhausted. Get some sleep,” he said gently. “I won’t wake you up until the last possible moment tomorrow.”
She started to shake her head.
“No arguments. You’ll need it, trust me. We’ve still got a lot of work ahead.”
“Wyatt—”
He bent and stole a quick kiss. “I won’t let you miss any of the good stuff.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Now give me your key.”
She sent him an odd look, but handed it over.
He opened her door for her, instructed her to sleep for at least eight hours, then unlocked his own door and went inside.
He knew exactly what the look she’d shot at him meant. She didn’t understand why he was acting as though nothing had happened between them.
He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t understand himself. All he knew was that until this case was over, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down again. His strengths were his focus and determination. He had to pour all his energy and concentration into the job at hand. Saving the innocent and catching the guilty was his purpose. For him, anything that took his mind off the job had to be ignored. Anything like sexual attraction or falling in love.
As he showered, he tried to figure out why pouring every ounce of his energy into seeking justice wasn’t satisfying. Not this time. For the first time in his life, he was having trouble compartmentalizing the separate parts of his life.
He dried off, pulled on sweatpants and lay down with a sigh. He was so tired, his body ached. But when he turned over, his nose picked up on the subtle scent of roses.
With a growl, he turned over the other way, trying to ignore the longing that filled his heart, the longing to have Nina lying next to him. Her soft, even breaths were more soothing and relaxing than anything he’d ever experienced.
How was he going to sleep without her next to him?
BY NINE O’CLOCK the next morning Wyatt and Nina were back at the sheriff’s office. Nina wanted to read Marquez’s statement, to see just exactly what he’d said about Marcie.
Wyatt hadn’t heard back about the examination of the boot casts, so that was his first question for Hardin.
“Yeah,” the sheriff said. “I’ve got the results right here. Turns out the footprints from the crime scene are Shane’s. The indentations on the heels were made by taps. Shane wears rubber taps on the heels of his boots.”
“Damn it. Obviously his prints would be there. All the prints couldn’t have been his, could they? Didn’t your deputy take more than one casting?”
“He took seven. Three were too smeared to identify. The other four were consistent with Shane’s boots.”
“So we still don’t know anything about who attacked him.” A faint memory came to Wyatt. “You know what? I need to talk to the doctor. I’ve got Nina’s photos of Tolbert’s head wound. There was a faint redness in a similar shape next to the wound. Like a hesitation wound.”
“Hesitation wound? What are you saying? That Shane hit himself over the head?”
Wyatt shrugged. “It’s within the realm of possibility. That’s why I want to show the pictures to the doctor. Get his opinion.”
Hardin shook his head. “Fine. I can’t stop you. But I’m telling you, I find it hard to believe that Shane would risk his job. He’s worked really hard to get where he is.”
“I’ve got to cover all the bases…” Wyatt was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. “This is Lieutenant Colter.” He heard nothing but rapid, shaky breathing on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Who is this?”
“I need help! Daniel’s been shot. At his house. Please hurry.” The feminine voice was a whisper, but the words might as well have been a scream.
“Who is this?” Wyatt demanded, shooting up out of his chair. His hand rested briefly on the hilt of his weapon as he caught Hardin’s eye. “Ellie?”
The sheriff got the message. He stood and grabbed his holster.
To Wyatt’s right, Nina bounded up.
“Talk to me. Tell me where you are.” Wyatt listened, but all he heard was the woman’s quick, shallow breaths.
“Just hurry, or he’s going to die,” the woman gasped.
The phone went dead.
“Damn it,” Wyatt spat.
Hardin was already headed out the door, with Nina right on his heels. “What’s going on?” he threw back over his shoulder. “Who was that?”
“A woman. Said Daniel Taabe had been shot. At his house,” Wyatt called.
Outside, Hardin headed for his truck, and Wyatt sprinted toward his Jeep.
Nina climbed in beside him.
As they pulled away, Mayor Sadler and Jerry Collier walked out of the courthouse. The mayor raised his hand to wave, then frowned. Collier looked shocked, and Wyatt could see his prominent Adam’s apple bob from where he sat.
Wyatt checked the last call that came in and dialed the number. He listened to the rings until voice mail picked up. Sure enough, the voice was Taabe’s. Wyatt cut the connection. “That call came from Daniel Taabe’s house,” Wyatt said as he followed Hardin’s truck onto the road to Taabe’s house.
“Did you give Ellie your cell number?” Nina asked Wyatt.
Wyatt muttered a curse. “I gave out my card to everybody I talked to. So yeah. She has it. Charla Whitley has it. And of course, I gave Daniel a card, too, so anyone at his house could find my number. The call could have come from just about anybody.”
It took them less than five minutes to get to Taabe’s house. Wyatt pulled up beside Hardin’s truck. “Stay here until we clear the house,” he ordered Nina as he jumped out of the Jeep and hit the ground running, drawing his weapon.
The house looked dark, and the driveway was empty. He glanced around, wondering if Taabe had put his truck in the barn or behind the house. He slowed down and crept up to the front door, a few steps behind Hardin.
Hardin pounded on the front door. “Daniel Taabe. Police! Open up!”
Nothing.
“Police!” Hardin yelled again. “We’re coming in!” He glanced back at Wyatt, who nodded, then kicked the door in.
Inside, a hallway separated the living area from the bedrooms. Wyatt took the right side, and Hardin the left.
Wyatt checked the living room, including the coat closet.
“Front bedroom clear,” he heard Hardin say.
“Living room clear,” he answered. He sidled along the wall to the door that led into a small dining room. He could see the kitchen beyond it.
“Second bedroom clear,” called Hardin.
The tiny dining room couldn’t have hidden a mouse. Wyatt stepped through it and into the kitchen. As soon as he rounded the door, he saw the blood and Daniel Taabe’s black hair.
“Back bedroom clear.”
“Hardin! In here!”
The sheriff appeared through a door on the left side of the kitchen. “Damn it,” he said when he saw Taabe’s body.
Wyatt leaned over and pressed his fingers against Taabe’s carotid artery, although he knew it was futile. “He’s dead. I’m going to get the professor.”
He ran through the front of the house and outside and waved at Nina. To his relief, she waved back and then got out of the Jeep carrying her kit.
“I can tell by your face,” she said when she reached his side. “Daniel’s dead, isn’t he?”
Wyatt nodded, wondering when he’d become so easy to read.
“How?”
“We haven’t examined him yet.”
When they got to the kitchen, Hardin was crouching beside Taabe’s body. He spoke without looking up. “He hasn’t been dead long. Blood hasn’t had time to coagulate.”
Nina snapped on a glove and knelt beside Taabe. She touched the edge of the pool of blood. “There’s not even a demarcation line. What do you think, Reed? An hour?”
“Or less,” said the sheriff.
“COD?” she asked.
“The cause of death is a gunshot wound to the
upper chest,” Hardin observed. “Through and through, judging by the amount of blood on the floor. Probably at close range.”
“Through and through,” Wyatt said. “Then we have a bullet.”
Hardin nodded. “I haven’t turned him over yet. Have you got your camera? I’ll get started photographing the scene.”
Nina took her camera out of her kit and handed it to Hardin. “Go ahead.” She stood. “What do you think? Did he confront the person who planted the bone and hatchet in his truck?”
Wyatt shook his head. “I wish I knew. First thing I want to do is question Ellie Penateka. She may have been the last person to see him alive.”
Nina looked at him questioningly.
“There, on the kitchen counter.” Wyatt gestured with his head. “Two coffee cups. One with lipstick on the brim.”
Nina looked where Wyatt had gestured. Sure enough, there were two large yellow coffee cups sitting on the counter, along with two crumpled paper napkins. She took in the rest of the kitchen. There were dishes that matched the cups on the drain board. She walked over to the sink. On the shelf above lay a woman’s turquoise ring.
She was about to point it out to Wyatt when her phone rang. She glanced at the display. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“N-Nina? Oh, thank goodness I got you. I think my phone’s about to go dead.”
Nina almost dropped the phone. She knew that voice. It was a voice she had known for ten years but hadn’t heard in more than two. A voice she’d thought she would never hear again. “Marcie?”
“Yes…” Marcie’s voice broke.
“Dear heavens, Marcie. Where are you? What’s going on?”
Wyatt, still crouched next to Daniel’s body, twisted and sent her a shocked glance. She met his gaze, knowing her own expression was as stunned as his.
Marcie was talking to her on her phone.
Marcie was alive.
“You’re there, aren’t you? At Daniel’s. He’s dead, isn’t he?” Marcie sobbed.
“I’m sorry, Marcie. Yes.” It was hard to talk. Her lips felt numb. Her throat was constricted. “Where are you? What were you thinking?”
Classified Cowboy Page 16
