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Rescued by a Ranger Page 15


  Belle had scooted away from him on the bleachers and kept her gaze on the ballplayers. “Yay, Eden!” she cheered as his daughter swung and missed.

  “That was a strike, kiddo. Strictly speaking, strikes aren’t good for the team that’s batting.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t look at him.

  “Have you ever been to a game like this before?” he asked, trying to put her at ease.

  “No. Daddy watched the Astros on TV. He promised he’d take me to a game.” She sniffled, clearly on the verge of tears. “But he never did!”

  Oh, hell. The last thing he’d wanted was to remind her of father-daughter outings she’d never get to take. He didn’t know what to say. Should he call Alex? “He was probably just waiting until you were bigger,” Zane babbled. “And it would have taken you a long time to drive to Houston.” A long time by kid standards, anyway—it was at least three hours away from Austin.

  Belle gave him a what-are-you-talking-about look, so surprised that she stopping sniffing. “We drove in Houston every day! It wasn’t long.”

  The good news was she no longer seemed sad. What did she mean they “drove in Houston?” Maybe they’d visited. Or maybe the Hunts had lived in Houston as a family and Alex had relocated them to Austin after Chris’s death. Or they could have lived on Houston Street, and the four-year-old was confused.

  Let it go. It was ridiculous for an intelligent man who’d once married the wrong woman to sabotage his relationship with the right one. Alex was the best thing to happen to him in a long time. He refused to screw that up over some disjointed and groundless hunches.

  * * *

  ALEX HAD ALREADY PARTED ways with Tess when Zane called her.

  “Eden’s team kicked righteous butt,” he told her cheerfully. “The girls are going for a celebratory pizza. We wondered if Belle could join us or if that would spoil your dinner plans.”

  “Not that I have any. Pizza sounds great.” She’d worked up a major appetite today trying to keep up with Tess in a mall. “Why don’t I meet you? We can have dinner together, then I’ll take her off your hands.”

  “Now that’s a plan.” He lowered his voice. “It means I get to see more of you.”

  She blushed, thinking he’d pretty much seen all of her already, and was glad she was alone in the car where no one could see her reaction. But she was looking forward to his seeing her again. Maybe Tess was right about the restorative powers of a girls’ afternoon, or maybe Alex was simply feeling empowered by the ability to make a deliberate choice rather than simply reacting to circumstances, but she’d decided to date Zane. He knew she was leaving in a few months; she’d made no secret of the fact her future plans were nebulous. That should allow them a goodbye where they each got to keep their dignity.

  She didn’t want to think about the goodbye part now. She’d rather think about what she had. It was a gorgeous sunny day and she was on her way to see Belle, Zane and Eden. By the time she pulled up to the pizza parlor, she was actually whistling.

  Zane waited for her on the sidewalk, looking inexplicably sheepish. Taking advantage of the fact that the girls were already inside, she surprised him with a quick kiss hello.

  His entire body relaxed, and a smile spread across his face. “So you’re really not avoiding me, then?”

  “What made you think I was? The way I invited myself along to dinner?”

  “Right. Point taken. Knew I was being weirdly paranoid.” He cupped her shoulders, pulled her to him and kissed her hard. His kiss was as brief as hers had been, but decidedly more thorough. Would it be too wanton if she announced she’d changed her mind about Eden babysitting and hoped the girl could start tonight?

  “I have something to tell you,” he began. “And I hope you won’t be mad.”

  “You sound like my daughter,” she remarked. “You didn’t by any chance color on a wall?”

  “Not recently. But you could ask Mom if it was one of my childhood transgressions. She’s inside,” he said ruefully. “Eden and I had invited my parents to the game, but Dad wasn’t feeling well. Mom spent most of the day taking care of him before he shooed her out of the apartment and said at least one of them should enjoy some time with Eden. She called me just a few minutes ago, after I talked to you. I know she accosted you at the senior center, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

  “Zane, this is your hometown. Your family’s lived here for years. You don’t owe me an apology or explanation for her spending time with her granddaughter.”

  “You’re pretty terrific, you know that?” He opened the door for her, and she spotted Dorothea at a booth with Belle. They each held a crayon and were playing what looked like a very serious game of tic-tac-toe on the kid’s menu.

  Belle waved immediately. “Mommy! Mister Zane’s Mom showed me how to draw a cocker spanish. Wanna come see?”

  “That would be cocker spaniel,” Zane translated. “We had one when I was a kid.”

  As Alex got closer to the table and saw how closely her daughter was nestled to Zane’s mom, she sighed, succumbing to the inevitable. “Dorothea, how would you and your husband like to join us next Sunday for a Beautiful Ballerina Birthday Bash?”

  * * *

  ALEX SPRAWLED BACK ACROSS the mattress, trying to catch her breath. “The truck was impressive, but you really work wonders in a bed.”

  Chuckling, Zane reached over to squeeze her hand. She wished either of them had possessed the foresight to turn on the ceiling fan before they’d started. Temperatures had been rising all week.

  “This is really decadent of us,” she marveled. “It’s bad enough I’m over here instead of working on the party, which was the whole reason Minnie Warner volunteered to pick up Belle en route to ballet in the first place. Plus I’ve probably dragged you away from something critical!”

  “Paperwork,” he said. “Don’t think of it as dragging me away. Think of it as...providing me with a much-needed break so I can return to my task refreshed.”

  She rolled onto her elbow and propped her face on her hand. “Speaking of critical, was Benita released from the hospital?” In the days that followed the hostage crisis, he’d told her more about the brave woman who’d tried to help take down a gang. She had wanted a better future for her son and others like him.

  Zane nodded, looking relieved. “She’s got some difficulties ahead of her, but I believe in her. Benita’s strong. People are often stronger than they give themselves credit for. Sometimes we just don’t know what we’re capable of accomplishing until we’re forced to do it.”

  “Do you think that’s true for the negative as well as positive?” Alex bit her lip. The question had slipped out unintended, and she wished she could take it back.

  “I don’t follow.”

  She tried to sound nonchalant. “I mean...maybe there are things a person wouldn’t ordinarily dream of doing, things most people would see as bad, but circumstances force them into it.”

  He frowned. “That sounds too much like the excuses cops hear all the time, ranging from ‘you don’t understand, man’ to the time-honored ‘devil made me do it.’ I don’t think there’s ever a right reason for doing the wrong thing.”

  Alex stared at the ceiling, kicking herself. She should have known this would be his attitude, so why had she brought it up? She couldn’t look to Zane to absolve her of her sins—especially since he didn’t even know what they were.

  “I should go,” she said. “Birthday preparations to finalize. Belle is literally counting the hours.”

  “Mom and Dad are really looking forward to it. Since Eden lived on the West Coast for years, they’ve missed a lot of girlie milestones.” He sat, crossing his arms loosely over his knees. The man had terrific arms. And she could stare at those shoulders all day. “Be warned. Given half a chance, they’ll spoil Belle rotten.”

  She wasn’t worried. After all, the Winchesters had raised him and he’d turned out great. “As long as they don’t get her a dog. Cocker spanish or
otherwise.” She looked over the edge of the bed, scouting through assorted pillows and clothes for her shirt. They’d been in something of a hurry since Eden, who’d stayed after school to work on a group project, would be home in about half an hour.

  “What about Belle’s grandparents?” Zane asked unexpectedly.

  Her throat went dry. “What?”

  “She seems to really respond to my folks, and it got me to wondering. I know you don’t have family, but what about Chris? Surely he had a family. Unless he was an orphan, too?”

  Could she make that plausible? That she and Chris had met in the foster system somehow and had bonded over their common backgrounds? Had she ever said anything to Zane that would contradict such a story? Her thoughts churned as she tried to recall.

  What the hell are you doing, fishing for more lies to tell him? Disgust filled her.

  “He did have family. We’re not close.” She yanked her shirt over her head and got to her feet. “You know that night you made me dinner and said my husband’s bad behavior and subsequent crash weren’t my fault? They took a different opinion. I don’t like discussing it.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Zane fell back on the bed. “I apologize for prying. I just... Alex, I want to feel like I know you.”

  She glanced back, trying to keep the rising fear out of her expression. “You do. You know the stuff that matters. Maybe we haven’t learned all the trivial, but that’s what a relationship is about, right?” She clenched her fists to keep her hands from visibly shaking.

  “Logically, I agree with you.”

  Uh-oh. “And illogically?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were in witness protection,” he joked. He was teasing, but there was a grain of something uglier. Resentment? Suspicion? Both possibilities tore at her.

  I’m losing him already. “One question,” she allowed anxiously.

  “What?”

  “I really do have to go—your daughter will be home soon—but we have time for one personal question.” The concession was for her as much as Zane. She wanted to feel closer to him, too. She hated the invisible walls between them. “Fire away.”

  “All right.” He turned to study her, his gleaming eyes so intense that she pitied any suspect or witness he interrogated. “Can you explain a nickname to me? Your daughter says you used to call her Josie Jo. Where did that come from?”

  Hearing her daughter’s real name spoken aloud was a blade through her. No! We’re supposed to be safe. No one’s supposed to know. Why had he chosen this moment to ambush her with that? She stood, collecting her shoes without bothering to put them on.

  “That’s private.” Did he notice the hysteria creeping into her tone?

  “Dammit, Alex.” Frustration roughened his voice to a growl. “Everything’s private with you. Everything’s too personal to share. Except your body, I guess. You’ll sleep with me—you just won’t trust me.”

  She drew back, stung. “You’re the second man I’ve had sex with in my entire life! Don’t make it sound like I’m indiscriminately free with my body.”

  “Freer than you are with your secrets,” he shot back. “Some days I catch myself obsessing, what is she keeping from me? Then I think, everything. You say this part of a relationship is for getting to know one another, but when I try, you shut me out. You change the subject, you refuse to answer questions, you get hostile. Or, over the last couple of days, you kiss me and the question gets dropped. I think I prefer the direct hostility. It feels more honest.”

  Tears blurred her vision. A dozen scathing replies came to mind, but she choked them all down. She didn’t have the right to argue, because she’d been a fraud from day one. Instead, she mustered as much dignity as she could for a woman trying to shimmy into her pants.

  “I’m obviously not ready for this,” she said, walking away from him. “Maybe I never will be. Maybe I’m damaged goods. You’re a great guy, and you should hold out for someone with more to offer.”

  “Alex, wait—” He scrambled off the bed.

  She paused in the doorway and gave him a sad smile. “On the bright side, you won’t have to worry about my distracting you with kisses anymore.”

  * * *

  ZANE WOULD HAVE FOLLOWED her, but, given that she was already dressed, she’d had a substantial head start. He couldn’t very well chase her naked out onto his front lawn. Besides, say he caught up with Alex...what then? From the first, he’d been the one making a case for them to be together. He couldn’t keep pushing.

  Look where that had landed them.

  It wasn’t just his assertive attitude that had driven her from the house, though. He sat on the edge of the mattress, head in his hands, and reviewed the facts. When he’d asked about the nickname, she’d gone green for a second. He’d only seen two other people look like that. One had been a lieutenant on a choppy deep-sea fishing expedition, the other had been a buddy who’d celebrated a hard-earned bust with far too much tequila. As soon as she’d heard “Josie Jo,” Alex had looked physically ill.

  He could no longer avoid the reality that she was hiding something. The only question was, why? How much trouble was she in? He was beginning to think that he didn’t just need answers for himself; he might need them for the sake of her safety and Belle’s. He’d already tried searching public records for information on Alexandra and Chris Hunt, of Austin. Maybe he should see if anything turned up for a Christopher and Josie. In Houston—Company A territory. Zane had a good friend who was a Ranger out of Company A.

  Maybe it was time to give him a call.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was the following night, late Saturday, before Zane got the information he wanted—although that wasn’t quite accurate. No man wanted to learn that the woman he’d been falling in love with was a liar who was currently in contempt of court.

  His friend emailed the data but followed up with a phone call. “I didn’t ask yesterday why the request and, like I promised you, I won’t mention this to anyone. But judging from what I turned up, are we looking at Eileen and Phillip Hargrove again?”

  The powerful couple had been on the periphery of an investigation into an allegedly corrupt public official. That investigation had eventually collapsed, with not enough evidence to press charges, and the Hargroves themselves had never been under direct investigation. But there were plenty of people in law enforcement who considered them persons of interest.

  “Not at this time,” Zane managed. “Thanks for sending me these links. I owe you a beer next time I’m in Houston, okay?” He disconnected while his buddy was still saying goodbye, reeling from the proof of Alex’s—Heather’s—betrayal.

  Although Zane wasn’t nearly as talented as the forensic artist who worked with the Rangers, he’d done a few police sketches on the fly. Once he’d scanned his drawings of “Alex and Belle Hunt,” it hadn’t been difficult at all to find out who they really were. There were numerous pictures of Heather—with longer and much redder hair—alongside her late husband and parents-in-law at social functions; a birth announcement for Josephine Hargrove; an obit for Christopher. Each new document was like an iron spike to his chest.

  He was glad Eden had already turned in, joking that she’d need extra energy for Josie’s party tomorrow, because Zane needed to be alone. He had a lot to think about and didn’t trust himself to be civil company. At the irony, a raw laugh scraped his throat. Not trust himself? Too damn bad he hadn’t been more distrustful of his beautiful conniving neighbor. That would have saved him a lot of trouble—and possibly have saved his heart.

  * * *

  THE BRIEF FLICKER OF FEAR in her eyes gave Zane a moment of savage satisfaction. He stared her down from the other side of the threshold. Could she tell from his expression that he knew? Before he could say anything to her, Belle appeared to see who was at the door.

  Josie, he corrected himself. Josie was already in her fancy pink-and-white ballet dress even though the party wasn’t for another few hour
s. “Mister Zane! Did you come over to give me my present early?”

  That gave him a pang, the reminder that today was her big day. He wasn’t a monster. He didn’t relish ruining the birthdays of five-year-olds. “Actually, honey, I’m here to talk to your mama.”

  Alex—God, even knowing the truth, it was difficult to think of her as anyone else—squared her shoulders and set her jaw for battle. “Go upstairs, punkin, and make sure your room is clean. You want to have space cleared for any new toys.”

  The little girl didn’t argue, but she did turn very slowly from one adult to the other, as if detecting the strain between them. Once Josie was out of earshot, he followed Heather inside.

  “I’m surprised to see you,” she said, voice strained. “I thought you understood that Friday afternoon was goodbye.”

  “Turns out, there are a lot of things I don’t understand.” His soft drawl didn’t mask the menace in his tone. “I was raised in an old-fashioned community where neighbors know each other, look out for one another. At the very least, they introduce themselves. Let’s try this again. I am Sergeant Zane Winchester. And you are?”

  Her eyes were wild, her hands trembling, but her voice was calmer than he’d anticipated. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  Yes, but she owed him the truth from her own seductive lips. “I’d like to hear it from you, Mrs. Hargrove.”

  She blanched, sinking blindly into the chair behind her. “Nothing good will come from my telling you. You’ve probably convinced yourself you’re here for justice, but you look like a man hell-bent on revenge. I’m not going to fight with you. My baby is upstairs.”

  Even though she was unquestionably terrified, she showed gumption. He shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she’d had the spine to thwart Eileen and Phillip Hargrove. He might have felt a twinge of pride if he weren’t so infuriated. He’d made love to this woman, had breathed her name while inside her, and it had all been a lie. The rage he’d felt when Valerie cheated on him, the blinding wrath at being so stupid, flooded back. Would he ever fall for someone who didn’t make a fool of him?