“Kate. You, your safety? They’re all that matter to me. You do what I say and, I promise you, I’ll get out and get to the bottom of this.” He pressed one more kiss, this one softly tender, on her mouth as the front door opened. He touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.
“Kylie. Come here, baby. Now.” Joe, firm but kind, tried to get his daughter away from what was sure to be a scene. Kate knew what was happening but half of her brain refused to accept it. It had chosen to remain numb instead of facing the knowledge that the man she’d come to love was going to leave her.
“Trent Dawson, step away please. We need to—”
“I know. I’ll cooperate. There’s no need to make a scene. Give me one moment, and I’ll go quietly, Joe.” She watched him pin her cousin with the steel in his eyes. “Make sure she calls Rick Evans. Do. Not. Give her any trouble over it. Do. Not let her out of your sight until he gets here. Open your eyes and you’ll see what this is. He wants her, and the best way to get her is to remove me from the picture. When Rick gets here, you let her go with him. That’s what’s best for her safety and everyone else’s.” He pointedly looked down at Kylie who hugged Joe’s leg and watched with confusion in her eyes. Then his eyes looked into hers.
“Stay safe and do what I said.” He kissed her cheek one last time and walked out the door. Then from behind the window she watched as they read him his rights, handcuffed and loaded him into a cruiser. He never resisted. Within moments the cars pulled out and she watched until the dark shadow of the man she loved disappeared around the curve.
They’d arrested her…Trent.
They’d arrested Trent for murder of her ex-husband.
Fire, angry and blistering hot, burned through her. Where was her fucking phone? She was ready to wage war against the mother fucker who’d done this.
“Honey, I’m s—”
“Shut it. Joe, don’t you dare apologize to me. You knew this was going to happen and you just…let it happen? How could you? No, don’t answer. I have a call to make.” She found Rick’s number and called. Later, she’d remember his curses, his voice and his reassurance that he’d be there and he’d take care of everything. But she had no clue what she said to him and if their conversation lasted thirty seconds or thirty minutes.
She set her phone down carefully when she would have rather thrown it at her cousin’s head.
“Kate, I had to. It’s my job and I asked them to wait until after, you know.” He looked down at his daughter. The same reason Trent had gone outside and not offered one ounce of resistance. He hadn’t wanted to upset Kylie in what was sure to be an ugly situation.
“Katie? Hewe.” She looked down to see the little waif holding a wad of tissues up to her, her big eyes solemn.
“What are these for, sweetheart?”
“Cause you’re cwying.”
She wiped her hands over her face and found that her cheeks were damp. What the hell did she say to a six year old who’d just watched her newest friend get handcuffed and loaded into a police car?
And Trent hadn’t even blinked.
Open your eyes and you’ll see what this is. He wants her, and the best way to get her is to remove me from the picture.
Bailey had somehow framed him and killed her lousy ex-husband all in one move.
They needed to get a lawyer and then she needed to call Sandy and Harlan. They’d be so upset and…
Number one, I need you to call Rick as soon as I’m gone. Call him and tell him what’s happened. He’ll take care of everything. Promise me.
Trent had taken care of everything. He’d seen it coming and had put her and her little cousin above everything. He would likely spend the night in a cold jail cell while she was safe.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I can’t tell you what they have on him, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Why should I? You already know what’s best for me, right?” The dim, distant, reasonable part of herself understood that Joe was a police officer. There were rules he had to follow and following the rules was part of what made him a good man.
But the biggest part of her, her heart, didn’t give a shit.
“Kate. My hands are tied. I hate this. I do.” Regret filled Joe’s words as he picked up a stuffed alligator on the floor.
“Come on, munchkin. How about we watch a movie for a few minutes?” Kate held her hand out to her niece.
Kylie smiled with calculation in her eyes. “Can I pick?”
“Of course. It’s your special day.” One that Kate prayed wouldn’t be forever marred by the memory of police cars and handcuffs.
She helped her niece clean up, tucked her in and started the movie. Thanks to a busy day, within fifteen minutes she was sound asleep, surrounded by an army of smiling furry faces.
Joe met her in the kitchen where he’d gotten out two bottles of beer. He handed her one and waited patiently, torment in his eyes. “Talk.”
So she told him everything and ended by telling him that there was no way that Trent had committed the murder because he’d spent nearly all the day prior to and the night of Preston’s murder with her. They’d slept in the same bed and the way she’d been wrapped around him, there was no way he’d snuck out and not woken her.
“Kate, you can’t tell anyone you know this. I’m breaking every rule in the book here, but how did a knife with his fingerprints and prints from boots that match the style and size he often wears both end up at the crime scene?”
“I have no idea. But even if I hadn’t slept with him, Joe, I know deep in my heart he didn’t do it.”
“Until Bowie called and asked if he was here and told me what they found. I wouldn’t have believed that a man who’d help a little girl rescue a snake would do this either, but I’ve seen some damn scary things over the years. I’ve been lured in by faces far prettier than his, too.” There was something in his tone that made her start. He’d cut himself off as if he’d said too much. What was he hiding?
“What? Who?”
“Nothing. This is about your mess.” Did that mean he had a mess of his own? He seemed so tired and…beat down. “Kate, this scares me. I understand why you don’t want to stay here around Kylie, but I think you should. We don’t know this Rick very well.”
“No. Absolutely not. She’s been upset enough by tonight’s drama. I won’t let this touch her. I know I can trust Rick. I’ll be fine.”
“How do you know you can trust him? You barely know him.”
“Because Trent does. That’s enough for me.” She took a long swallow of the beer, but it churned in her belly. Needing something to do, she finished cleaning his kitchen.
“Damn it, Kate. As much as I hate dishes, you’ve got to quit cleaning every time you come over.” That was more like the Joe she loved.
“I need to stay busy. Leave me alone.”
Not knowing what else to do, he actually listened to her. He stayed away, simply staring out the front window with his beer until Rick came about thirty long minutes later.
Without a word she kissed Joe on the cheek and met Rick before he’d had time to make it to the door.
She slid into the passenger seat and buckled in. “So, tell me what you’ve done and what we’re doing to get him out.”
“I called my attorney first and put him on it. As much as I hated to do it, I called Harlan next. He knows everyone who’s anybody in Bourbon County. Trent’s smart. He won’t say anything until he has a lawyer present. Harlan is likely making calls as we speak. We should be able to at least get him out on bail by late tomorrow. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do until we figure out who is behind this madness.” He rattled off everything and ran a hand through his hair as he hugged a long winding curve on the way out of Riley Creek.
“What year is this, a ‘68? It’s lovely.” Any other time, she would have wanted to run her hand over the dash and touch every old button. Tonight, she couldn’t muster up the energy to care.
“It’s a �
�69. She’s as close to perfect as you can get for a car that’s over forty years old.” Rick’s somber voice lacked the enthusiasm she would’ve expected from a classic car buff.
“Did you restore her yourself or buy her?” Eager for a distraction, she pried as she watched the dark night race by.
“I stole her. She actually belongs to Trent.” Rick’s quiet words undid her.
She closed her eyes, leaned back against the seat and let the tears fall.
Chapter Eleven
He couldn’t believe he’d been paraded in front of a judge. After his shitty start in life, he’d finally managed to find something good. He avoided trouble all his life, yet he wore an orange jumpsuit and fucking plastic shower shoes. His hands were cuffed in front of him, and he hadn’t shaved. Hell, he probably looked the part of a crazed murderer.
He heard the door to the courtroom open behind him as people filed in. He didn’t dare turn around to see if Kate and Rick were there. He felt their presence. At least, he thought he did. It was also possible that he was imagining it after having been awake for thirty hours. He hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d spent the night worrying whether Kate had done as he’d asked and if she was safe. He’d even crossed a line he’d told himself not to repeatedly.
He’d wondered if Kate believed he’d killed Preston.
He hoped not. He wanted to think she trusted him. Plus, she knew that they’d been together the night Preston had been killed, so, surely she knew he didn’t do it.
Knowing that didn’t make the thought of her seeing him cuffed and wearing orange any more bearable.
What if they didn’t let him out? He’d have to rely on Rick to keep her safe. While he trusted Rick with his life, he wouldn’t be able to rest easy until he felt the softness of her body against his again.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the judge entered the room. Everyone stood as Judge Lawrence Miller entered.
Thank fuck.
He was an old friend of Harlan’s and owned a horse Trent trained specifically for his only daughter who had special needs. Maybe there was hope.
A deep male voice cleared its throat from somewhere behind him, and he recognized the sound. Rick. He’d spoken to Rick’s attorney and knew that Rick was on top of things. He also knew to the depths of his soul that he had no reason to be ashamed. He hadn’t committed a crime.
But he couldn’t make himself turn and face his friend. Or see if Kate stood beside him.
He stared at the carpet and thought through all the things he should be doing at the stables that day. His crew should be able to handle everything in his absence, and Harlan wouldn’t hesitate to step in and lend a hand, if need be. Somehow, the knowledge didn’t ease his mind. He reminded himself he’d been in far worse situations.
Above all else? Kate would be safe with Rick.
The bailiff told everyone to be seated and the room was filled with awkward shuffling.
But Bailey was after her. Of that, there was no question in his mind. He’d find how the bastard pinned the crime on him if it was the last thing he did. Yes, Phillip Bailey was a senator, but Trent didn’t see him having the smarts to construct something like this. Who did and why would they work for him? Was it for money or for some other reason?
Then a thought knocked him into full-blown alertness. If they’d wanted him out of the way this badly, then surely they’d want to know what the results of today were. Somehow, someway, they’d be watching.
He fought the urge to turn and look at everyone behind him. He couldn’t make trouble. He had to do whatever it took to get out on bail. He shifted, turned and found Rick waiting to meet his gaze. Trent swept his eyes over the room and prayed that Rick got the hint. When his friend’s eyes widened and he gave a nod so slight it was nearly nonexistent, Trent tried to make one more sweep of the room, but his gaze locked onto Kate.
There was no fear, no revulsion visible in her lovely eyes. He only saw what looked like hope and concern for him. The judge spoke, and he tore his gaze from hers and tried to focus on what was being said between Judge Miller and his attorney.
Damn, but she was exhausted. She couldn’t imagine how Trent must feel. Bail had been set at a ridiculously high amount but neither of the men had blinked at the fortune they’d signed over. It took ages to get the paperwork taken care of, but eventually the three of them had come back to his home and he’d gone straight for the shower. He hadn’t even let her do more than give him a light hug when they’d finally gotten all the paperwork sorted and he’d been released. She understood. She would have felt dirty, too, but that hadn’t made it any less painful. Logic had been her only saving grace.
She answered a light knock at the front door and found Rick had returned with bags of takeout.
“Kate! Don’t. I’ll be—” Trent walked out of his room with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips.
She waved him back. “It’s Rick. I’m fine. Just do your thing.”
“I’ll be right out.”
“We’ve got things to discuss when you’re ready.” There was no mistaking Rick’s dark tone as he sat on the couch.
“Damn. All I need is two minutes.” Trent left the room with hurried steps.
Ignoring the voice in her head that sounded very much like a disapproving Aunt Jeannie, she grabbed a roll of paper towels, a couple of beers and bottled water and set everything on the coffee table.
She was unloading the bags when Trent walked in, pulling a shirt over his head.
“How are you, really?” Rick got straight to business as Trent sat beside her.
Trent raised his middle finger as he took a long swallow of beer.
Unaffected by the gesture, Rick continued. “Fine. We’ll move on. I caught your clue about watching the room. What led you to think someone might be watching?”
“It didn’t hit me until about five seconds before I turned to look at you. Whoever framed me has to be damn smart and skilled. They had to be able to break into my truck and get something with my prints without my knowledge. And the boots? I don’t see Bailey having the knowhow. So someone has to be working with or for him.” Trent grabbed a potato chip, then shook his head.
“Mr. Peterman saw someone in that truck he said looked like yours. Remember what he said about the Bourbon County license plate at Kylie’s party? That can’t be a coincidence.” She placed her hand on his thigh.
“Yeah. That only cemented what I suspected was happening when the deputies showed up. It was no coincidence. I hadn’t realized it was missing, but I’m guessing the knife I keep in my truck is gone.” Trent’s lips were set in grim lines.
“I watched the room as you indicated. There was only one person who seemed out of place. Here.” He showed Trent a picture he’d taken with his phone. “It’s not a good one, but what do you think?”
In the picture, a man hunched down in the corner with long dark hair and glasses. The hair was all wrong, almost fake, but there was something about the set of his jaw that seemed familiar.
“Son of bitch. That’s not Campbell, is it?” Trent sat back and then looked a second time before handing the phone back.
“I can’t be certain, but I think it is. I’ve got my guy digging into him and the picture. The last any of us heard, he was still hiding, like a cockroach, in Afghanistan.”
“Who is he?” She couldn’t shake the feeling that she should recognize him, but the knowledge wouldn’t come.
“If it’s who we think it is, we have a big problem. Boyd Campbell was one of us. We were in Sharanna, Afghanistan together. He’d split off from Justin, Rick and I. We heard what sounded like a struggle and a cry of pain in an alley behind a pile of rubble. He had Cara, a private, pinned against the wall by her throat. Her face was turning red and her shirt was torn open. She was putting up one hell of a fight, but Boyd had forty pounds of muscle on her and short fuse on his temper. She didn’t stand a chance. We broke it up but while we made sure Cara was okay, he disappeared into the town.”
Trent grabbed a sandwich from the table then unwrapped it.
“You mean he disappeared and someone found him later? Please tell me he didn’t get away with that?” Poor Cara. She wouldn’t know the woman if she saw her on the street, but she felt for the woman who’d not only been so far from home in a strange land, then brutalized as well.
Rick swallowed a bite, then took over the story. “No. He split. Vanished into BFE Afghanistan. He’d gotten awfully friendly with a few members of the Afghan National Army, making it likely that someone there hid him or got him out of the city. No one has seen him since he had his hands on Cara’s throat.”
“How was she? I mean, was she okay? Or okay now?” Kate set down her untouched sandwich.
“She’s tough, and she refused medical treatment. She went back to work with us the next day, bruises and all. You’d like her, I think.” Trent draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his warmth. She snuggled in without hesitation.
“The question is, how did the asshole get back undetected and how did he hook up with Bailey? If he is working with him, then the money transfers would fit.” Rick wadded up his trash, took it into the kitchen and then paced between the two rooms.
“Money to get a new identity, get home and payment.” Trent toyed with a lock of her hair.
“Do they have any prior connection or does the good senator have any ties to Afghanistan?” Rick rubbed both hands over his face. “Time to call in another favor.”
“Maybe you should quit doing this favor-for-a-friend bullshit and make it official. Put him on your payroll,” Trent suggested.
Protecting Kate: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 1 Page 19
