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Roughshod Justice
Delores Fossen
No memory and orders to kill.Texas Ranger Jameson Beckett discovers Kelly Stockwell alive – except she has amnesia, and a note demanding she kill Jameson! With secrets unravelling and bullets flying, does Jameson trust Kelly enough to save them both?


No memory and orders to kill.
Who has his lover become?
Two years after their short, intense affair, Texas Ranger Jameson Beckett discovers Kelly Stockwell alive. Except she has amnesia...and a note demanding she kill Jameson. Where is the woman with whom he shared so much? Because Kelly remembers nothing, not even the toddler they learn is their daughter. With secrets unraveling and bullets flying, is Jameson’s trust in Kelly’s heart enough to save them all?
Blue River Ranch
DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels, with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received a Booksellers’ Best Award and an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She was also a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her website at www.deloresfossen.com (http://www.deloresfossen.com).
Also by Delores Fossen (#u79089c18-4e72-5b6e-aad6-52314f12faef)
Always a Lawman
Gunfire on the Ranch
Lawman from Her Past
Roughshod Justice
Grayson
Dade
Nate
Kade
Gage
Mason
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Roughshod Justice
Delores Fossen


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07874-0
ROUGHSHOD JUSTICE
© 2018 Delores Fossen
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Cover (#u9c89af15-86a6-5894-9356-64bb3ab100cc)
Back Cover Text (#u3c958111-69dd-5578-8f30-6cbd9ea9ba30)
About the Author (#ufe2ae79e-93d8-5e11-a9ef-4b1449fc8201)
Booklist (#udecdbb97-16d3-5fc8-a40c-c61c763f0834)
Title Page (#u279456ec-3ced-5f02-9c86-264fd6d38cfb)
Copyright (#uc0b0207b-69a6-5f2f-a051-5effc0d6106a)
Chapter One (#uf08e259e-653b-5af7-99a0-b53a8204d12d)
Chapter Two (#udc92c9ee-f3de-5597-ac16-1dc1857e482b)
Chapter Three (#u2382ede7-e4d9-57eb-a174-119c8165ee80)
Chapter Four (#uea80c429-1d7b-58a5-a4e2-190fda4acca9)
Chapter Five (#u85c50ab9-17bb-570b-bd48-fb81f0881255)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u79089c18-4e72-5b6e-aad6-52314f12faef)
Texas Ranger Jameson Beckett felt his stomach twist into a hard knot. There was too much blood on the ground. Of course, a single drop was too much, but there was enough for there to be multiple dead bodies.
What the devil had happened here?
He stepped around the first pool of blood, around the CSI who was photographing it. There were cops. Medics. The medical examiner. Chaos. A flurry of adrenaline-laced movement, something that came with the territory of a crime scene like this.
The sun was already setting, but Jameson picked through the dusky light and the chaos, looking for his brother, Gabriel, who was the sheriff. Gabriel wasn’t the biggest guy in the mix, but he had an air of authority that made him easy to spot. Jameson made his way to him.
“How bad is it?” Jameson asked.
Of course, he partly knew the answer to that. It had to be bad for his brother to call in the Rangers to assist. Gabriel only did that when it was too much for him and his deputies to handle. Those were situations that didn’t happen very often in Blue River, the small ranching community they called home.
“We’ve got two dead bodies.” Gabriel tipped his head to the pair just a few yards away.
They were both men, both sprawled out in the pasture as if they’d collapsed in those spots. There was a black SUV not far from them on the road, the doors open, the engine still running.
Since the blood was between the SUV and the men, they’d likely been shot in or near the vehicle and then had gone into the pasture. Maybe to escape their attacker or maybe in pursuit of the person who’d shot them. Then the men had either succumbed to their injuries or been shot again.
Jameson turned back to his brother. “Any idea what we’re dealing with? A drug deal gone bad, maybe?”
“No drugs that we can find. But both men were heavily armed. So was she.” Gabriel motioned toward the ambulance that was parked just behind his cruiser.
“She?” Jameson asked.
Since it was a simple question, Jameson was more than a little surprised that his brother didn’t jump to answer. Instead, Gabriel started leading him in that direction. “I don’t know who she is, she won’t say, but she keeps asking for you. That’s why I called you.”
Hell. This could be connected to one of his investigations. He had a couple of female criminal informants helping him with a homicide, and Jameson hoped one of them hadn’t been involved in this.
Gabriel stopped to talk to one of the CSIs, and Jameson went ahead to the back of the ambulance, where he immediately saw someone else he knew. Cameron Doran, a deputy in the Blue River sheriff’s office. Cameron was also about to be Jameson’s brother-in-law since he was engaged to Jameson’s kid sister Lauren. Cameron had his hand on his holstered weapon, and he was clearly standing guard.
“Has the woman told you who she is or what happened?” Jameson wanted to know.
“No. She hasn’t given us much of anything. She just keeps repeating your name.”
Jameson braced himself for the worst, because if his CI was in an ambulance, then she’d clearly been hurt.
And she had been.
The first thing he saw was more blood. It was on her clothes, in her pale blond hair and all over her face, making it hard for him to tell who the heck she was.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” one of the medics volunteered. According to his name tag, he was Chip Reynolds. “Head wounds just bleed a lot. It appears she got clubbed, so she needs stitches. She also probably has a concussion, but the doc will need to confirm that. Can we go ahead and take her to the hospital?”
“Not just yet.” Jameson wanted to know who and what he was dealing with, and he figured Gabriel would want to know that, as well.
Jameson moved closer, leaning down so he could make eye contact with the woman. Her head whipped up, their gazes connecting. He still didn’t recognize her, but he wasn’t seeing much of her, either, because of the blood.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
She opened her mouth, closed it and looked up at the EMT as if expecting him to know. He just lifted his shoulder. “She didn’t have any ID on her,” the medic explained.
“Are you Jameson Beckett?” she said to him.
“I asked first.” But then he paused and replayed what he’d just heard.
Hell.
He didn’t recognize her hair, her eyes or her face with all that blood, but Jameson sure as heck recognized the voice.
“Kelly?”
Jameson went even closer, and the medic helped by wiping off some of the blood. Yeah, it was Kelly Stockwell all right.
“I thought you were dead,” Jameson grumbled.
She blew out a breath, and it sounded like one of relief. Though Jameson couldn’t figure out what she was relieved about. She was injured, and there were two dead bodies just yards away from her.
“You know me,” Kelly whispered after another of those breaths.
Clearly, this was some kind of sick joke. “Of course I know you.”
He had the memories to prove it, too. Memories of Kelly being in his bed. Also memories of her disappearing without so much as a text. Jameson truly hadn’t thought she was dead, though, only that she’d run out after she’d gotten what she wanted from him.
And it hadn’t been sex that she’d wanted.
“Your sister thinks you’re dead, too,” he added, just to get his mind back on the right track.
“I have a sister?”
Jameson didn’t roll his eyes, but it was close. “Mandy. Ring any bells?”
“No.” But she seemed to latch right onto that. “Is she okay?”
“I have no idea. Mandy and I haven’t talked in months.”
They had in the beginning, though, after Kelly disappeared about two years ago. Jameson had spent several months looking for her without so much as a clue to her whereabouts. Mandy had helped with that. Some. Not nearly enough, considering her sister was missing, but Jameson figured not all siblings were as close as he was to his brother and sisters. After that initial search for Kelly had turned up empty, he’d put both the woman and his hunt for her on the back burner.
“Can you call Mandy and make sure she’s all right?” Kelly asked. Except it was more than a plea for help. It was a demand.
Jameson huffed. “I thought you said you didn’t remember her.”
“I don’t, but...please, just call or text her.”
Jameson considered refusing, but since Mandy could indeed be connected to this, and even if she wasn’t, she would want to know that Kelly was alive. He scrolled through his contacts, located Mandy’s number and called her. No answer, but when it went to voice mail, Jameson asked her to get in touch with him ASAP.
Kelly thanked him under her breath. Paused. “You’re...angry with me,” she muttered. “Why?”
A burst of air left his mouth. Definitely not a laugh from humor. “You stole a file about an investigation from my office in my house,” he snapped.
Yes, it seemed a bad time to bring that up, especially considering that Kelly obviously had much more serious problems on her hands, but hell in a handbasket, it stung that he’d been so wrong about her. Jameson had trusted her, and she’d pretended to like him so she could get her hands on the file.
The file itself wasn’t one of Jameson’s cases. Not officially anyway. But it had been a compilation of everything that had to do with his parents’ murders. It had statements of witnesses’ accounts, court records and even notes from the investigations his father was working on when he’d been murdered.
She shook her head. “I don’t remember anything.”
“That’s convenient.” Jameson didn’t bother taking out the sarcasm. “We’ll get to that stolen file later. Right now, tell me about those dead men.”
Kelly closed her eyes for a moment. Gave a heavy sigh. “Several people have already asked me that. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know who they are. I don’t know who I am.”
He didn’t repeat the “convenient” comment, but that’s exactly what Jameson was thinking.
Of course, it was possible she did have some memory loss. That was a nasty gash near her hairline, and the medic had said she might have a concussion. But pretending to have amnesia would be a quick way for Kelly not to have to answer any of his questions.
Jameson didn’t get a chance to say anything else to her. That’s because Gabriel finished his chat with the CSI and joined them.
“So who is she?” Gabriel immediately asked Jameson.
“Kelly Stockwell.”
She repeated that as if trying to figure out if it was right or if she recognized it. Either she didn’t or else was faking it, and tears sprang to her eyes.
A first.
Kelly wasn’t the crying sort.
“She’s not linked to the...other stuff going on, is she?” Gabriel asked.
Jameson didn’t need him to clarify “the other stuff.” They were just two days away from the tenth anniversary of their parents’ brutal murders. Murders that had been splattered over every newspaper in the state, and because of all that news coverage, it had brought out a couple of crazies. People who’d wanted to see the old crime scene. Others who’d talked of copycat killings.
At least his parents’ killer, Travis Canton, was behind bars and was no longer a threat. Of course, there were some, and Kelly was one of them, who thought the wrong man had been convicted.
Jameson didn’t see it that way. Travis and his father had had plenty of run-ins over the land boundaries they shared. Added to that, Travis was a drunk. A mean one. And Jameson believed it was in one of those mean rages that Travis had slipped into the Beckett home and knifed Jameson’s dad. When his mother saw what was going on, Travis killed her, too.
And that was the theory the prosecution had used to give Travis a life sentence.
“She’s connected in a way,” Jameson verified. “She’s a PI, and she and her sister, Mandy, owned an agency in San Antonio. A few years back, August hired them to find any evidence to clear Travis’s name.”
No need to clarify to Gabriel who August was. He was Travis’s half brother and a pain because he was always pushing hard to come up with someone else who could have murdered the Becketts. That way, he could spring his brother from jail.
That wasn’t going to happen.
At least not with anything August might have gotten from Kelly and Mandy. Even though there hadn’t been any new evidence to find, that hadn’t stopped Kelly from digging. And she’d done her digging by getting close to Jameson so she could steal that file.
“I didn’t know what Kelly was up to when I met her about two years ago,” Jameson went on. “I didn’t know she was working for August. But when I found out, she disappeared, and her sister eventually closed the business.”
Jameson didn’t mention anything about his sleeping with Kelly. Didn’t have to do that. Gabriel slid him a glance to let him know that he knew. It was that sixth sense that his big brother had.
“I take it there’s some bad history...and more...between you two,” Gabriel added, and he aimed a look at Kelly.
“You could say that. At best she’s a liar and a thief. She stole everything I had about our parents’ murder investigation, including files with info that hadn’t been released to the public.” Obviously, though, that was the least of her worries right now. “Who found her?” Jameson asked. “Who called this in?”
“A guy driving by saw the two men in the pasture, and Kelly was running away. Or rather trying to do that. She collapsed near the ditch. Since she was armed, the guy didn’t get out of his truck, but he called it in. I had him go to the station to wait for me, and I’ll question him later.”
Good. Jameson wanted to hear what the man had to say. But more than that, he wanted to finish this conversation with Kelly.
“I can ride in the ambulance with her to the hospital,” Jameson offered.
Gabriel didn’t exactly jump to agree to that. Probably because he knew Jameson wasn’t in the best of moods. Still, Gabriel also knew that Jameson wouldn’t do anything to disrespect the badge. It didn’t mean, however, that he wouldn’t grill Kelly. As much as he could grill an injured woman anyway.
“Watch your step with her,” Gabriel warned him as Jameson got into the ambulance. “When I frisked her, she had two guns and a knife, and she would have hit me with a karate chop if I hadn’t gotten out of the way in time.”
“I thought you were going to try to kill me,” Kelly said.
Jameson hadn’t even been sure she was listening, but she obviously was. He also hadn’t remembered Kelly having any martial arts skills. Of course, probably everything she’d told him about herself was a lie. As far as Jameson was concerned, he didn’t really know the woman in front of him.
“Are you going to try to kill me?” she came out and asked, glancing first at Gabriel and Cameron. Then at Jameson.
Jameson tapped his badge. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
Her gaze darted away from his, and she took another of those uneasy breaths. “Sometimes bad guys wear badges.”
That didn’t sound like a guess or a general observation. “Is your amnesia cured and you’re remembering something specific?” Jameson pressed.
But he instantly regretted the snark. More tears came, and even though Kelly quickly brushed them away—cursed them, too—Jameson still saw the pain on her face. Not just physical pain, either. Whether or not the amnesia was real, she’d still been through some kind of ordeal.
“The CSI swabbed her hands for gunshot residue,” Gabriel explained, “but she put up a real fight about being fingerprinted.”
Jameson pulled back his shoulders. People who did that usually didn’t want their identities known. Coupled with the dyed hair—Kelly had been a brunette when he’d met her—she was obviously trying to disguise her appearance. Even her eyes were different. She’d hidden her green eyes with brown contacts.
“Call me if she says anything we can use to figure this out,” Gabriel added, shutting the ambulance door.
Jameson nodded and got seated just as the ambulance driver took off. The EMT continued to hold a compress to Kelly’s head and probably would have to do that the entire time since it was still bleeding.
It wouldn’t be a long ride to the hospital, only about ten minutes, and Jameson wanted to make the most of that time. He started by reading Kelly her rights. Gabriel had likely already done that, but Jameson didn’t want there to be any unticked boxes if she did confess to everything.
Whatever “everything” was.
“Did you shoot those two men?” he asked. “And before you lie, just remember we’ll know if you’ve fired a gun because there’ll be gunshot residue on your hands. Your weapons will be tested, too.”
She touched her fingers to her mouth, which was trembling a little. “I honestly don’t know if I shot them or not. They’re dead?”
He nodded, though the confirmation might not have even been necessary. Because she might already know the answer. “Who were they?”
An immediate head shake that time. So fast that the medic told her to keep still. “I don’t know that, either,” Kelly answered. Her gaze came to Jameson’s again. “Did you send them after me?”
There it was again—her distrust of him. Well, the feeling was mutual. “Let’s get something straight. I didn’t send thugs after you. I’m not here to kill you. Everything I’ve told you has been the truth, but you can’t say the same, can you?”
She stared at him. “You’re talking about that file you mentioned to the sheriff. I don’t remember it. I need to remember,” she added as she choked back a hoarse sob. “Because I have to know who you really are and why this is happening.”
He huffed again. “I’m really Jameson Beckett, Texas Ranger,” he supplied. “Now, start from the beginning. Tell me everything you know, everything you remember.”
“I remember them,” she said, glancing at Chip and the other EMTs. “And the sheriff. Someone swabbed my hands.”
That was a good start, but nowhere near what he wanted. “What do you recall before that?” Jameson pressed. “Before the sheriff and the EMTs arrived.”
Kelly stayed quiet for several moments. “I remember the pain in my head. Being on the ground. It was damp. And I saw the blood.” She stopped, her gaze going to his again. “What did the sheriff mean when he said there’s a bad history and more between us?”
Well, there was nothing wrong with her short-term memory, that was for certain. Jameson didn’t answer her, but he thought she understood what he wasn’t saying because she muttered a simple response.
“Oh.” Then she groaned. “Oh, God.” The tears filled her eyes again. “But it doesn’t make sense.”
“I agree. Not much about this makes sense, but you mean something specific. What exactly?” When she didn’t answer, Jameson added another question, one that was at the top of his list of things he wanted to know. “If you don’t remember anything, why did you keep asking for me?”
“Because of this.” She moved her hand to the front of her shirt. Then stopped. “I need to show you something, and I don’t want you to shoot me.”
“Is it another gun or knife?” he growled. Because he was pretty sure his brother would have found something like that when he frisked her.
“No. It’s a message.”
Everything inside Jameson went still. “What kind of message?”
Her hands were shaking when she unbuttoned her top. Some of the blood had soaked through to her chest, too, and that’s why it took Jameson a moment to see the small piece of paper that she took from her bra. She unfolded it, the trembling in her hands getting even worse, and she showed it to him.
What the heck?
Jameson drew his gun. “Explain that,” he demanded, tipping his head to the note.
Or rather the threat.
Kill Jameson Beckett or you’ll never see her again.
Chapter Two (#u79089c18-4e72-5b6e-aad6-52314f12faef)
Kelly hadn’t been sure what Jameson’s reaction would be, but she’d known it wouldn’t be good. And it wasn’t.
The anger flared through those already-intense blue eyes.
Eyes that she wished she could remember.
There was something about him that tugged at her. Attraction, probably. He was a hot cowboy after all. But there seemed to be something else. Something that she wished would become clearer in her muddled mind. Clearer because the last thing she wanted to do was kill this man.
He was glaring at her now, but still she studied him. Hoping there was something about him that would trigger a memory. He was tall and lanky. Dark brown hair like his brother. The family resemblance was there as well, but it wasn’t a resemblance that caused her to recall anything other than what’d happened to her in the past half hour or so.
“Who wrote that message?” Jameson snarled. He snapped a picture of it with his phone and sent the photo to someone. Probably the sheriff. Then, taking the note just by the edge, he snatched it from her and put it on the seat next to him.
Kelly buttoned up her top. She definitely didn’t want to sit there with her bra exposed. “I don’t know who wrote it or how I got it.”
That was the truth. And it was something she figured she’d be saying a lot tonight. She prayed this memory loss was temporary. Prayed, too, that her injuries weren’t so serious that she couldn’t get the heck out of there ASAP. Other than the attraction she was feeling toward Jameson, she knew in her gut that it wasn’t safe to be here.
Plus, there was the “her” in the message.
It was obvious someone—a woman—was in danger.
“I think it could mean my sister,” she added. “That’s why I had you try to call her. Could you try again, please?”
He glared at her, hesitated, but he did fire off a text to someone. Kelly had no memories of Mandy, but if those dead men had taken her, their comrades could be holding her somewhere.
Waiting for Kelly to do what they’d demanded and kill Jameson.
“If you really have amnesia,” Jameson went on, still snarling, “how did you know that message was there?”
“I just knew.” It was an answer that obviously didn’t please him, because he cursed. “Why would someone want you dead?” she asked.
Jameson gave her another of those flat, scowled looks. “I’m a Texas Ranger, and I’ve put a lot of people in jail. One of them might not be happy about that.”
Yes, it could be that. But she had the feeling there was more to it. Jameson confirmed that several seconds later.
“My family has been getting threatening emails and letters.” His jaw clenched. “Threats connected to my parents, who were murdered ten years ago. The killer is in a maximum security prison, but someone has been sending out these sick messages to taunt us.” He tipped his head to the note. “Messages like that one.”
“Is there a her in any of those emails or letters?” she asked.
“No. But that doesn’t mean it’s not from the same person. Are you the one threatening us, Kelly?”
She tried to pick through the tornado in her head but couldn’t latch onto anything. Other than the pain. “I don’t think so. No,” she amended. She didn’t want to harm Jameson. Didn’t want to harm anyone. She just wanted to figure out what the heck was going on. “Was I connected to your parents’ murders, to their killer?”
Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Not to the murders but to August Canton. His brother is the one who was convicted of killing my folks. August somehow convinced you of his brother’s innocence, so you were looking for anything to help with the appeals. You stole from me to do that.”
Yes, she’d heard the conversation that he’d had with his brother about the stolen file. Again, no memory, and it didn’t seem like something she would have done. Especially steal from a man who’d likely been her lover.
Kelly repeated August Canton’s name, hoping it would trigger something. It didn’t. “I don’t remember him, either. Could any of this be linked to August or his brother?”
“Not Travis, because he’s in jail.” Then he paused. “But even if August or he managed to arrange something like this, I can’t imagine either of them going about it this way. You’re not a hired gun. Or at least you weren’t two years ago.”
And she wasn’t now. Kelly was certain of that. However, she didn’t get a chance to try to convince him because the ambulance pulled to a stop in front of the emergency room doors of the hospital. The EMTs used the gurney to take her inside.
There was a uniformed deputy waiting for them, and when they went in, Jameson immediately motioned toward the note that he’d left on the seat. “Bag that and show it to Gabriel. I’ll need her clothes bagged, too.”
Yes, because there might be some kind of evidence on them. She hoped so anyway. She needed answers.
“Who were those dead men in the pasture?” she asked. “Do you have ID’s on them?”
Jameson seemed annoyed with her question. Of course, he probably was annoyed—and highly concerned—about all of this. Because of the note that had ordered her to kill him.
“We’ll know more soon,” he finally answered. “Especially when you remember what you should be remembering.”
There it was again, the tone that indicated he didn’t believe her. She couldn’t blame him. There were two dead guys, a threatening note and an ex-lover who didn’t have a clue what was going on.
The medics transferred her to an examining table in a room just off the ER, and Kelly immediately looked around to make sure someone wasn’t there, ready to come after her. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, and she prayed if there was another attack, she could protect herself.
Jameson didn’t immediately come into the room with her, but he stayed in the doorway while he made a call. However, he didn’t take his attention off her. Too bad. Because Kelly thought it might be a good idea for her to put some distance between Jameson and her.
While he was still on the phone, a nurse came in, took her vitals and made a quick check of her head wound. It was throbbing, but that was the least of her problems right now. Apparently the least of Jameson’s, too, because whatever he was hearing on the phone caused his forehead to bunch up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment he ended the call.
The nurse mumbled something about the doctor seeing her soon and walked out, leaving them alone.
“Your sister’s still not answering her phone, so I’m having the San Antonio cops go out and check on her,” Jameson said.
“Good. Thank you.” But that wasn’t an explanation for the renewed tension in his face. “What else?”
“You have gunshot residue on your hands, and one of the guns you had matches the wounds on the dead guys. It’s looking as if you’re the one who killed them.”
Kelly felt the tears again. Felt the icy slam of fear in her chest. “I don’t think I had a choice. I think they were trying to kill me.”
Jameson blew out a long breath. It sounded bad. Was bad, she mentally corrected. She’d been sent to kill him. Maybe those men had been sent to kill her. And whoever had orchestrated it was maybe still out there. Maybe that someone was also the reason her sister wasn’t able to answer her phone.
Kelly tried to focus, tried to make sense of the whirl of memories that were in her throbbing head. But when she wasn’t able to sort through it, she decided it was time to get as much info from Jameson as he would give her. Maybe then she could use that to piece together this puzzle.
“We were lovers?” she asked.
“No. Yes,” he amended after he cursed. “We had sex, but it was all a ploy on your part to steal that file.”
That. They kept going back to that file. “Why would I help someone like August Canton?”
“You tell me. In fact, I wanted to ask you that question about two years ago, but you disappeared.”
Maybe Mandy would be able to help with that. She likely would have told her sister why she had disappeared. Well, maybe. If her sister and she had been close—since they’d owned a PI business together, maybe that meant they had been.
“Other than the Canton case, any idea what else I was working on around that same time?” she asked.
Kelly hadn’t figured that Jameson would actually know. Especially if she had gotten involved with him because of the Cantons, and that’s why she was surprised when he readily answered.
“You were investigating a guy named Frank Worley.”
Finally, that sounded familiar. More than familiar. It sent another chill through her. “He’s a money launderer.”
Jameson stared at her and then moved closer. Too close. And he looked into her eyes. “That’s what the San Antonio PD thought. So did one of his former employees. You remember that?”
“No.” But she motioned for him to continue.
He did, after he huffed. “Worley’s ex-girlfriend, Hadley Beecham, hired you to find their infant daughter, Amy, whom she claimed Worley had stolen and hidden. Hadley was killed in a suspicious car accident, but that only made you dig deeper into the case.”
She thought about that for a moment. “Maybe Worley’s the reason I disappeared. Maybe he’s the reason this is happening now?”
Jameson shrugged. “Worley’s bad news, I have no doubts about that. But I was never able to link your disappearance to him.”
“You searched for me,” she said. But wished she hadn’t. That comment only put more frustration back into his eyes.
“Because you stole that file,” he grumbled.
So he’d been looking for her to arrest her. Maybe still would. But she instinctively knew that it wouldn’t be safe to be locked up where someone could get to her. Everything inside her was screaming that she should get to a safe place, and behind bars wouldn’t be that place. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to look for that her.
A man stepped into the room. He was wearing jeans and a blue shirt, but he was in the process of putting on a white coat with a name tag stitched on it. According to the name tag, he was Dr. Timothy Halston.
“It’s okay,” Jameson said, taking hold of her arm. Until he did that, Kelly hadn’t even been aware that she was trying to get off the table. “He’s the local doc in Blue River.”
Neither the doctor nor his name meant anything to her, but Blue River rang some bells. It was Jameson’s hometown. She was sure of it. And she’d been on her way there when, well, when the incident with those men had happened.
“Jameson’s right,” the doctor added. “And I need to have a look at that gash on your head.”
The doctor moved in to do that just as Jameson’s phone rang. He stepped back into the doorway, moving away from her. Something that sent her heart racing. Even though she wasn’t sure she could fully trust Jameson, right now Kelly trusted him more than she did anyone else.
“It’s not that deep of a cut, but I guess you took a hard enough lick on the head to mess up your memory,” the doctor continued, but Kelly tuned him out and tried to hear what the caller was telling Jameson. He didn’t put his phone on speaker, but after a few seconds, he mumbled some profanity.
“When?” Jameson asked the caller.
She had to look around the doctor when he moved in front of her to continue the exam. Not that there was much to see or hear. Jameson was clearly in listening mode. And like before, he didn’t like whatever it was he was hearing.
“When will I get my memory back?” Kelly asked the doctor.
“Can’t say. Sometimes, these things only last an hour or so. Sometimes, longer. I’ll order some tests,” the doctor said, waving a penlight in front of her eyes. “How bad is the pain?”
“I’m okay,” she lied. But there was no way she wanted pain meds. Her head was already too foggy as it was.
“All right. Then I’ll get started on those tests.” The doctor again. “A nurse will be in soon to take you where you need to go.”
Jotting down some notes, the doctor left, but it took Jameson several more seconds to finish up his call. Even when he put his phone away and came back to her, he took his time saying anything.
“Is it Mandy?” she came out and asked.
Jameson nodded and didn’t seem surprised that she’d guessed that. “The cops went to her apartment. She wasn’t there, but it appeared there had been some kind of struggle.”
Oh, mercy. So this probably was connected to her sister. Someone likely had her and was holding her hostage.
“They found blood in her apartment,” Jameson added.
He had to take hold of her again or she would have bolted. Where, Kelly didn’t know, but she had to find her sister.
“The cops are looking for her.” Jameson’s grip stayed firm on her arm until she quit moving. Then he waited until their gazes were connected before he continued. “A neighbor said she saw Mandy with two men about five hours ago. She didn’t see any guns, but Mandy was walking in between the two.”
Kelly had to press her hand to her chest to try to steady her heart and her breathing. “Why didn’t the neighbor call the cops?”
“She didn’t think anything was wrong and didn’t see any signs of an injury. Apparently, she doesn’t know Mandy that well so she thought they might be friends.”
Definitely not friends. Not with that blood in the apartment. Even though the neighbor hadn’t noticed any injuries, it didn’t mean Mandy hadn’t been hurt in some way. Now those goons had had her for five hours or more, and there was no telling what they could have done to her.
“They’re holding her until I kill you.” Kelly hadn’t intended to say that aloud, but judging from the sound of agreement Jameson made, that was his theory, too.
“Please tell me you’re remembering something. Anything,” he added, “that’ll help us with this.”
Kelly tried again, but the jumble was still there. She tried to catch on to bits of it, but there was only one thing that was clear. “I’ll never see her again if they find out you’re still alive.” And finally something fell from that jumble. Not a memory. But an idea of how to fix it. “Is there a way for you to fake your death?”
No sound of agreement, but he didn’t jump to nix the idea, either. “But then what? Whoever has your sister might just decide to tie up loose ends and kill her. You’re a loose end, too.”
Yes. The worst kind. Because somewhere in that jumble of memories was perhaps the identity of the person responsible.
“I can’t just sit here and wait,” Kelly said. Her voice hardly had any sound, and the blasted tears came again. She cursed the tears because they wouldn’t help. Heck, nothing might at this point. She could risk the men coming after her, but she couldn’t take the chance that they would murder Mandy.
“There’s more,” Jameson said, sitting on the table beside her. “The neighbor gave the cops a description of the men who were with your sister.” He paused. “It matches the description of the two dead guys.”
Kelly snapped back her shoulders and shook her head. “I don’t think Mandy was with me tonight. Was she?”
“There was no sign of her, but the CSI team will process the dead guys’ SUV. We’ll also show the neighbor their pictures to see if she can confirm that’s really the people she saw.”
And if they were the same men, then that could mean only one thing. Well, one thing if Mandy was still alive. “They wouldn’t just kill Mandy if they plan to use her for leverage to get me to do...something.” The “something” in this case was to murder Jameson. “That means they must have her stashed somewhere.”
He nodded. “Gabriel will check it out. There might be something on their GPS. The CSIs will also check their phones so that we can try to pinpoint where they’d been in the past five hours.”
All of that was a good start, but it wasn’t nearly enough. “I can search for her, too.”
He gave her another of those flat looks. He was good at them, too. “You’re staying here and having those tests. In fact, you’ll probably have to spend the night here.”
Now she was the one to give him a flat look. That wasn’t going to happen even if she had to sneak out. Too bad she hadn’t managed to hang on to at least one of those weapons the sheriff had confiscated. Of course, even if she had them, Kelly wasn’t sure she’d remember how to use them.
“So what can I do?” she came out and asked.
“You can stay put and let the cops and me do our jobs.” He opened his mouth, no doubt to add more. Probably a warning for her not to try to escape. But movement in the doorway caught their attention. At first, Kelly thought maybe it was the nurse coming to take her to those tests, but it was a man. Jameson got to his feet, moved in front of her and drew his gun.
Kelly stood, too, and she peered over Jameson’s shoulder to get a better look at the man with the shaved head and bulky build. He was tall, at least six-four, and wearing a suit.
“Frank Worley,” Jameson said like profanity. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Worley. The man she’d been investigating when she disappeared. He might also be the man who’d hired those thugs to take Mandy.
“No need for that gun,” Worley insisted. “And I’m going to show you why. Don’t shoot me when I pull back my jacket.”
“Don’t give me a reason to shoot you,” Jameson countered. “But if you pull a gun, you’re a dead man.”
“What I’m going to show you isn’t a gun, but I’m carrying one. And here’s why.” Worley eased open his jacket, and she immediately spotted something she hadn’t expected to see.
A badge clipped to his belt.
“I’m a Justice Department agent,” Worley added, his attention sliding from Jameson to her. “My real name is Lawrence Boyer. And I’m here to arrest Kelly for murder.”
Chapter Three (#u79089c18-4e72-5b6e-aad6-52314f12faef)
Jameson didn’t know who was more stunned with Worley’s announcement—him or Kelly. But Kelly did look as if she was about to try to sprint out of there. Jameson wouldn’t let her do that. Nor would he take anything Worley said, or what he was wearing, at face value.
Including that badge or his name.
“Federal agent, huh?” Jameson asked him, and he didn’t bother to sound even marginally convinced.
Worley blew out a long breath as if annoyed with this. Well, Jameson was annoyed, too. He didn’t have time for this clown, especially since Worley could be behind the attack and Mandy’s disappearance. Jameson didn’t want to examine why he was suddenly on Kelly’s side. But when it came to Worley, he was.
“I figured you wouldn’t believe me.” Worley checked his watch. “But you should be getting a call any second now from someone you will believe. Your brother, the sheriff. He’s verifying now that I’m an agent. Once that’s done, you’ll turn Kelly over to me.”
“I won’t go with him,” Kelly said just as Jameson snarled, “Like hell I’ll turn her over to you.”
That caused Kelly to look at him, and he saw not tears this time but an unspoken thanks. But a thanks wasn’t going to help right now. He needed some things cleared up.
“Who are you claiming Kelly murdered?” Jameson asked.
“Those two men your brother and his deputies are investigating.”
Jameson certainly couldn’t deny that she had been the one to shoot them. In fact, the evidence pointed to her doing it. But the evidence was equally clear that she’d also been attacked, probably by those two men. Unless...
He didn’t like even thinking it, but Jameson had to at least consider it. Kelly could be playing him again. She might have had a beef with those guys. Could have even written the note herself. But none of that felt right, especially now that Mandy was missing.
“Who were those men?” Kelly asked Worley.
Worley just stared at her. “You tell me.”
“She can’t,” Jameson volunteered. “See that cut on her head? Someone clubbed her, and she has amnesia.”
Worley looked as skeptical about that as Jameson probably had when he’d first heard Kelly say that she couldn’t remember. But some of that skepticism was fading. Worse, he suddenly felt the need to protect Kelly. Coupled with the remnants of the old attraction, that wasn’t a good combination.
Jameson’s phone rang, the sound slicing through the room. Slicing through him, too, because he saw Gabriel’s name on the screen.
“Worley’s here,” Jameson answered, and he put the call on speaker so that Kelly could hear.
“Yeah. And if he told you he’s a Justice Department agent, he is,” Gabriel said. “I just confirmed it. His real name is Lawrence Boyer.”
Kelly hadn’t had much color in her face, but that rid her of what she did have. “Impossible.”
Normally, Jameson would have agreed with her, but he didn’t doubt anything Gabriel told him.
“My source in the Justice Department is reliable,” Gabriel continued, “and according to him, Boyer aka Worley is a joe, someone who spends months or even years in deep cover.”
So Boyer had told the truth, about being an agent anyway. “Does he have a court order for Kelly’s arrest?” Jameson asked.
“No. Why? Is that why Boyer says he’s there? Because my source couldn’t tell me.”
“Yep, but without a court order, Boyer’s not taking our witness to what could be a double homicide. You agree?”
“Agreed,” Gabriel quickly said. “You need backup?”
“Not yet. I’ll call you if I do.” Jameson finished the call, slipped his phone back in his pocket and turned to Agent Boyer. “Tell me everything you know about those men,” Jameson demanded. “In fact, tell me everything you know about Kelly.”
Boyer volleyed several glances at Kelly and him. For a moment Jameson thought he was going to have to remind this agent that the Rangers and the sheriff had jurisdiction here and that meant Boyer had to cooperate. Even if it was obvious that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“You really don’t remember anything?” Boyer pressed when his attention finally settled on Kelly.
“I remember a few things.” It sounded as if Kelly was carefully choosing her words. And lying. But maybe she didn’t want this guy to know that she had no memory of her association with him. Perhaps it was her way of forcing Boyer to tell the truth.
“I met you and your sister about two years ago,” Boyer finally started. “By then, I’d been on a deep cover assignment for well over a year, and I was posing as a money launderer so I could gather info on a cartel operating in the state. I didn’t tell many people who I really was, but I told you, and I gained your trust.”
“What?” Kelly snapped. She looked over the man from head to toe, and there wasn’t a drop of trust in her eyes or expression.
Boyer nodded. “Mandy and you were working for my ex, Hadley.” His mouth tightened when he said her name. “She was accusing me of stealing our newborn daughter, but you soon realized she was just doing that to get back at me because I’d broken things off with her. After that, you agreed to help me.”
Jameson went through that info, but it only created more questions. “Hadley knew you were an agent?”
“No. And that should tell you something about her. She got involved with me while thinking I was a criminal.”
Jameson lifted his shoulder. “It tells me something about you, too. It tells me you were lying to a woman pregnant with your child.”
Boyer’s mouth tightened even more, and his eyes were narrowed when he turned to Jameson. “The pregnancy was an accident. On my part anyway. I think Hadley planned it to trap me into marriage. When I didn’t go for that and broke off the relationship, she retaliated by accusing me of kidnapping the child just days after she was born.”
As much as Jameson hated to admit it, that could all be true. He didn’t know Hadley, and in his line of work, he ran into plenty of people who didn’t mind bedding down with criminals.
“So what happened to your daughter?” Jameson asked.
“I don’t know.” Boyer scrubbed his hand over his face. “I suspect Hadley had Amy hidden away from me and the cops, and when she was killed in the car accident, the location of that hidden place died with her. Don’t get me wrong. I haven’t given up finding my daughter, but at the moment I’ve run out of leads.”
Kelly made a sound, sort of a muffled moan. Maybe because she realized this could turn out to be a similar situation for her sister. With a similar ending of them never finding her. But Jameson wanted to prevent that from happening, and maybe Boyer could help with that. He was about to ask Boyer to spill all about the two dead guys, but Kelly spoke to Boyer before he could do that.
“You said you got me to trust you. How exactly did you manage that?” Kelly asked. “Because I’m certainly not feeling any trust for you now.”
Boyer made a sound of agreement. “Ditto. I don’t trust you, either. But your misplaced mistrust is probably because you betrayed me. That’s how you got into this mess you’re in right now.”
Jameson moved to Kelly’s side so he could face Boyer. “Explain that,” Jameson insisted.
“After I told Mandy and you I was an agent, you both said you’d back off so that my cover wouldn’t be blown. A blown cover could have gotten me killed by the men I was doing business with. You also agreed to help me with my assignment.” Boyer paused, gathered his breath. “I needed you to get a file from Jameson.”
Jameson had anticipated what Boyer might say, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated that. He looked at Kelly to see if she was remembering any of this, but she only shook her head.
“What file?” Jameson snapped. “And why the hell not just come to me for it?”
“I didn’t go to you because I didn’t want you to know I was an agent. I didn’t want it leaked, and at the time there were rumors that there was a mole in the Rangers.”
“There wasn’t a mole,” Jameson argued once he got his jaw unclenched. If so, he would have darn sure heard about it.
“I couldn’t risk it. I’d already told Mandy and Kelly, but I only did that so I could get any information you had on your parents’ murders.”
Of course, he’d known the file that Kelly had stolen was about the murders, but he didn’t care for a deep cover agent having an interest in the case. He made another circling motion for Boyer to continue.
But Boyer only said two words. “August Canton.”
Now Jameson had to take a moment because the memories came. Of his parents’ murders. Of the pain and grief over losing them.
“August was originally a murder suspect,” Jameson said. “Several people were. But my father was also investigating a situation where a local widow, Hattie Osmond, had been milked out of lots of money. August was a suspect in that crime, too, but Hattie refused to name him. She passed away last year so there’s no way to press her for the truth.”
Boyer nodded. “I interviewed her. So did Kelly.”
“Kelly?” Jameson repeated. She seemed just as surprised about that as he was.
“Yeah. She talked to Hattie about two years ago. And she questioned Marilyn Deavers, the woman who’d given August an alibi for the night of your parents’ murders.”
Jameson looked at Kelly, but she only shook her head. “I don’t know why I did that. Or if I learned anything.”
“Marilyn is dead now, too,” Boyer went on. “She died in a car accident.”
So if Marilyn had altered her story about August being with her, then there’d be no way to confirm it. Unless they found that file.
“I believe August did scam money from Hattie,” Boyer continued a moment later. “Maybe others, as well. But that’s not why I was investigating him. I believe August is involved in a money laundering scheme. I’d hoped there’d be something in your files that would help, something that hadn’t been in any of the police and FBI reports. But there wasn’t.”
Kelly whispered a single word of profanity under her breath. “So I stole that file for nothing?”
“I obviously didn’t know that at the time.” Boyer didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, either. “When I realized the file was useless, I pressed you to get more info from Jameson. You said you would, but then you disappeared.”
“Why did I do that?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I didn’t hear from you for two years, and then this morning, I got a frantic phone call from you. You said you were in Houston and that someone was trying to kill you.”
“Someone did try.” She touched her fingers to her head. “Who?”
“I don’t know that, and you didn’t know, either. You said someone tried to run you off the road, and you needed my help.”
Jameson considered maybe that was how she’d gotten the head injury, but he dismissed it. She’d been bleeding in the ambulance, and that didn’t look like a wound that’d happened hours earlier. It still looked fresh.
Kelly looked at Jameson. She opened her mouth, closed it, and it seemed as if she changed her mind about what she was going to say.
Had she remembered something?
Something that would incriminate her?
“I told you to go to a hotel,” Boyer continued, “and stay there until I could arrange security. I sent two men, both federal agents, and I believe those are the two men you killed tonight.”
Kelly fumbled around behind her, located the table and sank back down on it. “Why would I have done that?”
“You tell me.” Boyer glared at her. “That’s why you’re under arrest.”
“She’s not,” Jameson argued. “Remember that part about you not having a court order. Plus, we don’t even have ID’s on the dead guys so we don’t know if they’re agents or not. They could be the same men who were trying to kill Kelly in Houston. Once the doc has released her, we’ll all go to the sheriff’s office and get this straightened out.”
That didn’t please Boyer, and he gave Jameson more of that glare. “Why are you protecting her?” Boyer growled. “Are you sleeping with her again?”
Jameson hadn’t cared much for Boyer, and that question didn’t help. “Before tonight, I hadn’t seen her in two years, either.”
He considered telling Boyer about the note that Kelly had tucked inside her shirt. But decided against it. Best to keep that close to the vest until they could figure out what was going on. That started with identifying those two men. And making sure Kelly got the medical attention she needed.
“We also have a witness,” Jameson added just to test Boyer’s reaction. “Someone saw part of the altercation between Kelly and the two dead men.”
And it got a reaction all right. Boyer’s eyes widened. “Who is it? I want to see the person right now.”
“He’s in protective custody.”
Not exactly a lie. The guy was at the sheriff’s office and had hopefully stayed there. Just in case he was thinking about leaving, Jameson stepped to the side and sent a text to Gabriel to tell him to keep an eye on the man and to keep him away from Boyer. Until Jameson was certain he could trust this agent, he didn’t want him to be part of the investigation.
“Are you warning your brother that I’m on my way to the sheriff’s office?” Boyer snapped.
“I sure am,” Jameson admitted.
Boyer cursed and glanced around as if debating whether he should leave or stay there to watch the woman he intended to arrest. “Kelly’s not to leave here unless I say so,” Boyer said as if his order would be obeyed. “I’ll come back after I’ve spoken to this witness.”
“Good luck with that.” And Jameson didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of his voice.
As much as Jameson hated to pawn Boyer off on Gabriel, he was relieved when the agent stormed out. But not nearly as relieved as Kelly was. She blew out a long breath, and while she didn’t exactly relax, her muscles seemed to loosen up a bit.
“Please don’t let him take me,” she whispered.
He couldn’t promise her that it wouldn’t happen. If Boyer did manage to get that court order, then Jameson would have no choice, and that’s why he needed to press the CSIs to get identities on those dead men. However, his phone rang before he could even start the call. Not Gabriel this time, but rather Cameron.
“Jameson, we got a problem,” Cameron said the moment he answered. “The security guard at the hospital just called 911. He said there’s a guy in the back parking lot, and that he’s got a rifle.”
Chapter Four (#u79089c18-4e72-5b6e-aad6-52314f12faef)
Kelly’s breath froze. From the moment she’d been carried into the hospital, she’d had a bad feeling about this place. It just wasn’t safe. And the gunman that the security guard had spotted proved it.
The gunman was after her.
She didn’t need her memories to know that, but it certainly would have helped if she remembered why someone wanted her dead. Because if she knew the why, then maybe she could figure out who was behind this. And perhaps put an end to it. Of course, at the moment she wasn’t in shape to stop much of anything. But she did need to get the heck out of there.
Kelly stood to do just that, but Jameson immediately made sure that didn’t happen. “You’re not going anywhere,” he warned her. However, he did draw his gun from his holster and stepped in front of her.
Protecting her.
She figured that wasn’t something he especially wanted to do, but he was a lawman, and he probably considered this to be part of his job.
“Get me some backup now and patch me through to the security guard,” Jameson told Cameron. He now had the phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear. It only took a few seconds for that to happen.
Seconds that the man in the parking lot could be using to make his way to the hospital. Kelly looked around for something, anything, she could use as a weapon, but other than some medical equipment, there wasn’t much. Plus, she definitely wouldn’t win a hand-to-hand fight with this guy. Not with the way her head was still spinning. She could barely stand up.
“Hank, do you still have eyes on the guy with the gun?” Jameson asked the security guard.
Jameson didn’t put the call on speaker, but since Kelly was right behind him, she heard the guard answer. “Yeah, but he’s on the move. He’s darting from one car to another, using them for cover, but he’s definitely heading this way.”
Jameson growled out some profanity under his breath. “Some deputies are on the way, but if you have to, shoot this idiot. Don’t go for a kill shot, though, because I’d like to take him alive.” He paused. “Did another man just leave the building? Bulky build and bald?”
“No. Haven’t seen anybody like that. Why? Is he dangerous, too?”
“Maybe,” Jameson answered. “Just watch your back around him if he shows up. And lock down the hospital. There could be other gunmen at the front or sides of the building.”
She hadn’t needed anything else to rev up her heartbeat, but that did it. There could be any number of hired guns, and Kelly doubted that just locking up would keep them all out.
Jameson ended the call, putting the phone back in his pocket, and he looked at her. “I need to go to the guard to make sure this gunman doesn’t get out of the parking lot. I know the guard—Hank Winston—but I have no idea if he’s a good enough shot to stop this person.”
And even if he was a good shot, it was too big of a risk to take. The gunman could shoot an innocent bystander. Heck, if he got inside, he could shoot Hank as well before coming after her.
“I want to go, too,” Kelly insisted. “Just give me a gun.”
Jameson gave her a flat look. “No gun. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you here alone since we don’t know where Boyer is. That means I want you to come with me, but I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”
She nearly asked Jameson what he would consider stupid, but he didn’t give her a chance to say anything. He got them moving out the door of the examining room. Fast. Too fast for Kelly to keep up with her wobbly legs, and Jameson cursed again when he glanced back at her. He looped his arm around her waist and started walking, slower this time.
“Once I take care of this,” Jameson said, “you can finish up with the doctor and then I can get you to the sheriff’s office. If you need protective custody, we can work it out there.”
Kelly didn’t miss the “if.” He still didn’t trust her—which was reasonable—since she couldn’t remember what she’d done or why she was carrying that note ordering her to kill him.
“We need to find my sister, too,” she reminded him, though Kelly was certain he remembered.
“Gabriel’s looking,” he assured her.
Yes, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look, as well. And she would. But first she had to take care of a possible killer and then find a way to escape. Or at least find a way to get Jameson to believe her so he would help her.
No easy feat.
Apparently, they’d been lovers, but judging from the way Jameson glared at her nearly every time their eyes met, he didn’t feel even a trace of affection for her. However, the attraction was still there, and perhaps that was one of the reasons he was glaring. He didn’t need this heat between them any more than Kelly did.
They made their way down a wide corridor with shiny gray tile floors, and Jameson slowed when they neared the back exit. The guard was there, his gun drawn and pointed at the glass door.
“He’s still out there,” Hank said, sparing Jameson and her a glance. “What should I do?”
“Come over here and wait with her.” Jameson tipped his head to the hall. He took up position by the side of the door so he could peer out into the parking lot. “But keep watch. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us.”
Neither did Kelly, so she kept watch, as well. “Maybe if I could get a look at the gunman, I might recognize him?” she said.
Jameson spared her a glance. “Your memory’s starting to come back?” There it was again. The skepticism that she’d never lost it in the first place.
“No. But seeing him might trigger something.”
“Seeing him might get you killed,” Jameson pointed out. “This glass is reinforced, but it’s not bullet-resistant.”
Which meant Jameson could be shot, too. Kelly had already put him in enough danger, so she leaned out, trying to get a glimpse of the gunman.
And she got it all right.
The tall lanky man ran from the back of an SUV to a truck. But the new position didn’t put him closer to the building. Nor did his next move when he darted behind a car. He was moving laterally. Maybe so he could have a better shot?
Or was this about something else?
“Hell,” Jameson said. “I think this clown is just a decoy.” Obviously, he’d reached the same conclusion Kelly just had. “A second gunman’s probably already in the building.”
Both Hank and Kelly shot glances around them. The hall wasn’t empty. There were two people wearing green scrubs, a man holding the hand of a toddler and a woman carrying a vase of flowers. All seemed to be doing normal things that people would do in a hospital.
Seemed.
The flower-carrying woman was walking slow, staying behind the man and the little boy, but Kelly didn’t think they were together. She got confirmation of that when the boy stumbled and the woman didn’t even reach out to break his fall. It was the man who picked up the child. He kissed the boy on the cheek and started walking again, coming up the hall toward them.
Jameson took out his phone and texted someone. Gabriel, probably. To let his brother know what was going on.
“See anyone suspicious?” Jameson asked Hank and her when he’d finished.
Hank shook his head. Kelly didn’t. “The woman with the flowers could be carrying a gun,” she said.
Though it wasn’t visible. Still, she was wearing jeans and could have a concealed weapon in a slide holster. Plus, there was something about the intense look on her face that set off alarms inside her. So intense that Kelly moved out of her line of sight and pulled Hank next to her.
Jameson hurried from the back door just long enough to glance down the hall, and he made a frustrated sound of agreement. “We can’t risk her firing shots. Not with that kid and the other innocent people standing around.”
Kelly could see and feel the debate going on inside Jameson. They didn’t have time to wait for backup. Nor did they have a lot of options here. If whoever was behind this had indeed set up a decoy, then there could be more than one hired killer in the hospital.
“Come on,” Jameson finally said. He motioned for them to follow him to the door, and he made brief eye contact with Hank. “Keep hold of Kelly, and when we get outside, get her down behind the first vehicle you reach.”
The blood rushed to her head, and Kelly felt the kick of adrenaline. And fear. So many things could go wrong right now, and staying put could be the biggest mistake of all. Still, she hated to go out there without any way to defend herself.
Hank put his arm around Kelly’s waist, and the moment Jameson unlocked the door, they started moving. So did the decoy. He lifted his head, and Kelly saw the surprise register in his eyes.
It didn’t last.
Because the moment the man turned his rifle in their directions, Jameson took aim and shot him square in the chest. The guy dropped like a stone, and Kelly could tell he was dead. But she could no longer see him because Hank did as Jameson said, and he pulled her to the side of a minivan.
“Do you have a backup gun or knife?” she whispered to Hank. “I’m a PI. I know how to shoot.” Or at least she thought she did. Now, if she could just remember the firearms training she would have almost certainly had in order to get a private investigator’s license.
Hank glanced back at her, and even though Kelly could tell he was plenty uncertain about this, he lifted the leg of his pants and took a small handgun from his boot holster. Kelly didn’t waste a second pivoting toward the door so she could keep watch for that woman who might be coming after them.
Jameson took cover as well—using the red truck on the other side of the door. And they waited.
The moments crawled by, and Kelly soon heard a welcome sound. Sirens. Backup had arrived, and maybe that meant these would-be killers would call off the attack. She wanted answers. Wanted to know who was responsible for this. But she didn’t want those answers if it meant innocent people could die.
“Get down!” Jameson shouted just as a shot was fired.
Kelly expected the bullet to go in Jameson’s direction. It didn’t. It came in hers. The shot slammed into the minivan just inches from where Hank and she were crouching.
That sent Kelly and him scurrying to the side, but moving in any direction was a risk. Yes, Jameson had shot the decoy, but that didn’t mean others weren’t all over the parking lot.
But this shot had come from inside the hospital.
Kelly peered around the minivan and spotted the woman. She was no longer carrying flowers, but she had the back door open a couple of inches. Her gun was jutting out through the space.
And she fired again.
This time at Jameson.
From their new position, Kelly could no longer see Jameson, but he’d probably tried to shoot the woman. Judging from the sounds Kelly then heard, Jameson had been forced to take cover, as well.
Kelly figured Jameson wasn’t going to like what she was doing, but she leaned out enough from the minivan so she could see if she had anything close to a clean shot. She did.
And she took it.
Kelly aimed, fired, and the bullet crashed through the glass and into the woman’s chest. Like her decoy comrade, she fell, but that wasn’t the only sound Kelly heard. Jameson cursed—the profanity aimed at her.
“I told you to stay down,” Jameson snarled, and in the same breath, there was another shot.
Sweet heaven. Who was Jameson shooting at now?
Kelly scrambled around Hank and made her way to the rear of the minivan. There, she had a good angle to see Jameson. To see the glare that he tossed her, too. Obviously, he wasn’t happy that she had changed her position or that she fired that shot. Kelly wasn’t especially happy about it, either, but she saw it as a necessary choice.
“Put down your gun,” someone shouted.
Gabriel. He had apparently arrived with backup. Good. Kelly hoped he had brought a lot of deputies with him so they could secure the hospital.
“He’s there,” Hank said, motioning in the direction of the far side of the building.
There was a man carrying a handgun in the spot where Hank had indicated. However, the man didn’t drop his weapon as Gabriel had ordered. He turned and fired a shot, no doubt aiming for the sheriff.
Jameson took care of the guy. He double-tapped the trigger, but he hadn’t gone for kill shots. The bullets went into the man’s shoulder and shooting arm. He stayed on his feet, but his gun clattered to the ground.
Suddenly, there were the sounds of footsteps. Plenty of them. And they were all converging on the injured man. With his gaze still firing all around him, Jameson reached the guy first, but Gabriel and a deputy soon joined him. Another deputy stepped out from the back door where the gunwoman was still sprawled out. She was almost certainly dead. It gave Kelly a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach to know she’d killed someone, but if she hadn’t, Jameson, Hank and she could have been murdered.
“Don’t kill me,” the gunman yelled, attempting to hold up his hands. Hard to do, though, with his injuries.
Kelly had been right about the gunshot wounds. They didn’t appear life-threatening, but he was bleeding and needed medical attention. That wouldn’t be difficult to get since they were in a hospital parking lot, but Gabriel likely wouldn’t let any of the medical staff approach until he was certain it was safe.
Even though Kelly knew Jameson wasn’t going to like it, she started to make her way toward them. She did keep low, though, crouching, and her pace wasn’t exactly fast since she was still unsteady.
When Jameson spotted her, he didn’t curse, but she could tell that’s what he wanted to do. “Stay behind cover,” he warned her.
She did, but that didn’t stop her from getting a better look at the gunman that the deputy was now cuffing. Just as everyone else she’d encountered, Kelly didn’t recognize him, but when the man looked in her direction, he did something strange.
He smiled at her.
Jameson and Gabriel noticed that smile, too, because they both shifted their attention to her. “You know him?” Jameson asked her.
Kelly immediately shook her head. But the man just kept on smiling.
“I know you,” the injured gunman growled, “because you’re the woman who hired me.”
Chapter Five (#u79089c18-4e72-5b6e-aad6-52314f12faef)
“I didn’t hire that hit man,” Kelly insisted.
Jameson had lost count of how many times Kelly had said a variation of that denial, but it had started immediately after the gunman’s accusation. It had continued, too, even after the man had been hauled away to the ER and after she and Jameson arrived at the sheriff’s office.
As with her other denials, no one responded. The two deputies who weren’t at the hospital working the investigation were both busy at their desks. Gabriel was in the interview room with the driver who’d first seen Kelly and the two dead guys in the pasture. That left Jameson, and even though he, too, was on the phone, waiting for an update from Cameron, he wasn’t there to give her any assurances but rather to make sure she didn’t run.
Good thing, because she certainly looked like a woman on the verge of taking off.
She was pacing across the squad room. Well, her version of pacing anyway, considering she was still wobbly. She would occasionally catch on to desks and chairs to steady herself.
Thankfully, she hadn’t been so shaky that she hadn’t managed to take out the female shooter in the hospital door. If she hadn’t, the woman could have done some serious damage. It was that shot that had Jameson believing that the injured gunmen had been lying.
He stopped, rethought that.
Actually, he hadn’t believed it from the moment he’d heard it. And yeah, that made him stupid. It was this old fire that was between Kelly and him. She’d stolen the file from him, but it was a huge leap to go from that to murder.
Kelly glanced down at the burner cell phone she had gripped in her hand. One of the deputies had given it to her after she said she wanted to make some calls. Of course, the calls had been related to her sister. Kelly hadn’t remembered any phone numbers—or so she’d claimed—so Jameson had given her a contact at SAPD. The detective had nothing new on Mandy but promised to call Kelly the moment he found anything.
Jameson hoped what they didn’t find was a body.
Kill Jameson Beckett or you’ll never see her again.
That wasn’t exactly a reassurance that Kelly’s kid sister was okay.
She went to the watercooler and had another drink. Her third in the past hour. Jameson had already had her doctor come to the sheriff’s office to check her and finish his exam, but Kelly had practically dismissed the man. Too bad. Because Jameson was certain that head injury needed additional treatment. Probably even a night or two in the hospital. He doubted, though, that he was going to be able to convince Kelly to go back there after what’d happened.
They’d nearly been killed.
It’d been pure luck that both Kelly and he had managed to nail those shots. And they’d managed that before the thugs had gotten their own brand of luck and killed all three of them and anyone else who happened to get in the path of those bullets.
Jameson finished his call with Cameron and went closer to her. The doctor had told him to watch her for any signs of dizziness or fatigue. He didn’t see either. However, Jameson did see the troubled look on her face.
“I didn’t hire that man,” she repeated. Except this time, there were tears in her eyes.
Hell. The tears were his Achilles’ heel, and Jameson had to force himself not to pull her into his arms. That definitely wouldn’t be a good idea.
She stared at him as if waiting for something. A response, maybe. Maybe that hug. But instead Jameson relayed what he’d just learned from Cameron.
“No ID’s on either the dead man or woman,” he explained. “But Cameron took their prints and will see if they’re in the system. I called in the Rangers to assist on this. When I have the names, I’ll definitely run them past you to see if they ring any bells.”
Kelly nodded. “Good.” She repeated both the one-word response and the nod, and she kept staring at him.
“What about the guy you shot?” she asked. “The one who lied and said he was working for me?” She hadn’t needed to clarify that last part, but the renewed anger in her voice seemed to help with drying up those tears.
“He lawyered up, but we do have an ID on him. He gave his name to the doctor because apparently he has some allergies to certain meds and wanted the doc to access his records. His name is Coy McGill. Know him?”
“No.” Kelly added a heavy sigh. “But he’s trying to set me up. Please tell me you know that.” She was clearly calling him on this.
“I do know that,” he assured her. “The shot that woman fired could have killed you. If you’d been the one who hired them, she would have kept her gun aimed at me. After all, I’m the one that someone wants dead.”
“Yes,” she said after a long pause. Their eyes met again. “Why?”
For a simple question, it encompassed a lot. With everything going through his head, he hadn’t exactly had much quiet time to think, but he kept coming back to two things.
“It could be connected to my parents’ murders. The anniversary is just two days away.” That would mean someone obsessed with the case. It could be someone who wanted revenge for Travis being behind bars.
“It’s possibly connected to one of your cases,” Kelly provided.
He had to nod again. As a Texas Ranger, he had made his share of enemies, and there were at least a half dozen guys behind bars who would want him dead. But this felt, well, personal.
“Why use you to do this?” Jameson was talking more to himself than her now.
She groaned softly, but it looked as if she wanted to curse. “I don’t know, and that’s why I need to remember.”
“Then you should let the doctor examine you again. Maybe there’s something he can give you—”
“He can’t. I asked,” she added. “He can rule out a brain injury with tests, but even if that is what’s wrong with me, the only treatment is time.”
Jameson had no idea if the doctor had actually told her that or if it was something Kelly had decided was true. Either way, he couldn’t force her. But he could force her into custody.
“Until Coy McGill starts talking, I can’t let you leave,” Jameson spelled out for her.
“Because I’m a suspect,” she readily supplied.
Great. That brought back the tears. They shimmered in her eyes along with tugging at his heart. And Jameson finally caved in and gave her arm a gentle rub. She noticed, too. She looked down at his hand. Then at him.
And there it came.
That old punch to the gut. Jameson had been with plenty of women, but none of them had ever made him feel the way Kelly had.
And that’s why he took a huge step back from her.
She noticed what he’d done, and the corner of her mouth lifted. A smile, sort of, but it wasn’t from humor.
“Plus, you can’t let me leave because Boyer is still threatening that arrest warrant against me,” Kelly added a moment later.
Bingo. There were a lot of pieces in this mess that didn’t make sense, and Boyer was just one of them.
The door to the interview room finally opened, and Gabriel came out with the witness, a man named Merrill Stover. He wasn’t a local but rather had been to a nearby ranch to look at some calves that were for sale. Jameson had run a background check on the man while Kelly was with the doctor, and Stover had a squeaky-clean record. No indications whatsoever that he’d had part in whatever the heck had gone on in that pasture.
Stover started for the door but stopped when he saw Kelly. “Ma’am, I’m real sorry for what happened to you.”
Kelly pulled back her shoulders. “What did happen to me?”
Stover glanced back at Gabriel, but he waved off the question. “I’ll fill her in. You’re free to go,” Gabriel assured him.
The man gave a suit-yourself shrug and left. Gabriel didn’t say a word until he was out the door.
“I believe what he told me,” Gabriel started. “But before you ask,” he added to Kelly when she opened her mouth, “he didn’t see the actual shooting. Only the aftermath of it.”
She gave another of those weary sighs and scrubbed her hand over the back of her neck. “So I’m not cleared. Boyer can arrest me.”
“No, he can’t,” Gabriel assured her. “Well, not without a court order, which I seriously doubt he’ll get. That’s because those two dead men aren’t agents as he claimed. They both had long rap sheets.”
Finally, Jameson saw some relief on her face. It was short-lived, though. “Why would Boyer claim they were agents?” she asked.
Gabriel lifted his shoulder. “I tried to call him, but he didn’t answer. I left him a message.”
Kelly leaned against the wall, and her eyelids fluttered a little. Jameson silently cursed. She was probably dizzy, something he was supposed to be watching for. Not that she’d ever admit it. However, she didn’t balk when he took her by the arm and led her to a chair in Gabriel’s office.

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