THE TINMAN KEPT a keen eye on the cars that passed until the black Escalade with the tinted windows pulled up and the back door opened. Out stepped a tall, beautiful blonde draped in fur and diamonds. She wore wide sunglasses although the sun was setting.
He tossed his toothpick onto the grass and felt a twinge in his leg. The bullet wound still smarted, but he’d done a damn good job of treating it himself.
The woman finally dragged off her sunglasses as she approached, followed by her driver, a.k.a bodyguard. He was as big as a house and looked like his face had been run over by a truck. What Tinman couldn’t understand was why the rich chick didn’t have her watchdog bodyguard take care of the job?
“I can’t believe you asked me to come here. This neighborhood isn’t fit for rats to live in,” she growled.
With a sniff, Tinman slid from his perch on the table and slowly lowered his shoes to the ground. He squinted at the pain in his body but gritted his teeth against the need to sit back down. “Should I have come to that fancy neighborhood of yours?”
With a half-hearted shrug, she dropped the glasses into her glitzy purse. “She’s not dead.”
One thing he liked about the rich broad, she didn’t waste time with small talk. “News travels fast.”
“I’m glad you can take this so calmly, but because you’ve seemed to forget something, I’ll remind you.” She took a small step closer that brought her within several inches of him. He caught her scent—rich bitch perfume. “Ten grand and ten thousand reasons why I thought you could handle the job.” Her crimson lip curled in disgust.
“My capabilities haven’t changed.” He inhaled deeply. What was it about uppity broads and their incredible scent? His cock hardened and he grinned, glad that his tool still worked. It had been a while since he’d been turned on.
“Really?” she snapped. “Then why is that fucking whore still a pain in my ass instead of six feet under? Did you think my people wouldn’t find out that you botched the job?”
“We have a little problem,” he swiped his hand down his whiskered jaw. “Little being the operative word.”
“I’m sure little is a word used in reference to you quite often,” she slurred, glancing to his zipper. “I was told you were smart and skilled.”
“She’s under the protection of a lawman,” he growled. He hated when any job didn’t go full circle, but he also had patience.
“I don’t care whose wing she’s under. She must be eliminated. Now,” she insisted. “If you can’t handle the bitch, then step aside and let me find someone who can. While you’re at it say goodbye to the wad of cash you were promised.”
“Did I say I couldn’t handle it?”
“No, you didn’t, but you’ve fucked up. You said she’d be worm bait in two days.”
“If you could have found someone else to do the job with my skill set you would have. Hell, why didn’t ask your goon?” Tinman pointed at the bodyguard then took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, lit one, and took a long drag before he said, “I’ll get the cunt. I always follow through.”
“Yeah? When?”
“Soon. It’s best we back off some and allow her to think she’s safe—allow the lawman to make a mistake. I know that I can do this without being sloppy.”
“Take them both out!” she hissed.
He chuckled. “Trust me, Cull Cade isn’t an easy target. I take the woman out and he’ll be pissed. I take a Cade out and I’ll have his siblings and every fucking badge after me in Wyoming. No thank you.”
“You’re missing something. The longer she’s alive the more chance that half-wit will spill what she knows. It has to be soon,” she slurred, probably already dipped into her cocktail.
“Look, sweetheart, leave the heavy work to the professional. I’ll get my chance to take care of her and when I do, if it makes you feel better, I’ll cut her tongue out and place it in a gift box for you. Sound good?” He couldn’t hide his loss of patience. “As long as I get that money, I’ll even deliver the bitch and let you do the dirty deed.”
“I’m losing my tolerance, and when I start to lose it…”
“Are you threatening me?” the Tinman said quietly, grinning.
“Oh, but I never threaten. I say it just how it is. I’ve dealt with…” she rolled the word around her tongue, “bigger issues and see where that got me? I get what I want, when I want it.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. When I decide the time is right…” She opened her mouth, ready to say something that he really didn’t care to hear and he placed his finger over her lips, “Just listen. Got it? When the time is right I’ll make sure no one will ever find her body. There won’t be another fire or a fucked-up ending. I know what I’m doing.”
“There are no second chances. Fuck this up again and there will be no forgiveness. Right, Jonesy?”
The large bodyguard grunted. The brute could scare some men, but some didn’t scare easily, and that was Tinman.
He leaned in and sniffed loudly. “I can smell your fear. Feel the election slipping?”
She drew back and slapped him hard on the cheek. The crack echoed through the deserted park. “Remember who you’re talking to.”
He felt the burning in his face, then he laughed while his cock grew. For the first time since he’d met her he realized just how hot she was despite her spoiled airiness. She wasn’t fat and had nice, big tits—fake, but nice. What the hell did he care? He’d still like to squeeze them. He’d also like to stick his dick in her and see if rich pussy was tighter than those whores he visited until his cock stopped showing up for the party. Maybe business would be finished soon and he could show her what a real man could do. He’d like to have one more fuck before…he swallowed hard. “Give me time.” He ran his fingertips down her cheek and she slapped his hand away, which only made him laugh harder.
“Fine! We’ll play this your way…for the moment. But don’t let that bitch out of your sight. Got it?”
“Loud and clear. In the meantime, you get your cash ready, sweetheart. My payday is coming.”
“Good. We’re done here.”
The man stubbed out his cigarette under his shoe. “Always nice seeing you,” he said.
With a huff, she retraced her steps back to the car. He watched the taillights disappear in the falling darkness and he reached for another cigarette, lit it and drew in deeply. He blew out a smoke ring and smiled. His way. The only thing he wanted, and needed, was the cash he was still owed and possibly a good blow.
The chick, Warren, didn’t have a chance in a million of getting away from her fate, not this next time. He’d dealt with slippery mother fuckers before, and every time he made sure he took care of business, even if it got a little messy.
For now, he’d wait in the shadows, watching and waiting for the opportune time when he could pounce. She’d get more than a hit over the head this next time or a few bullets whizzing by her head. He’d see that there was no saving her. He had a lot more patience than the boss lady.
He resituated his hard cock and stepped back into the shadows of the park. Soon, very, very soon…
****
“I’ll get that.”
At the sound of Monica’s voice, he swiveled. Cull’s heart skipped a beat as he roved his gaze over her. Her hair was damp and brushed out around her shoulders. She’d changed clothes and now wore a fitting T-shirt with the words, “I like my coffee how I like you. Tall, sweet, and hot.” Her nipples were swollen under the cotton and she shyly brought her gaze up to meet his. Her eyes were bright green surrounded by thick, long eyelashes. There was a magnificent pull between them and he warned himself that he’d have to be on his toes.
“Would you like me to do that?” She stepped into the kitchen.
He waved the spatula that he was using to dish out the lasagna. “Believe it or not, I’m capable of serving myself. I have lived alone.”
“Yes, of course.” Her bottom lip slightly trembled. Was she nervous? “Only two plates? Where are your parents?”
“They called to say they’re held up. So that means it’s just you and me.” He went back to dishing out the pasta onto his mother’s finest bone china. Seeing her worried expression, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Sure. I made salad too. I’ll get it out of the fridge.”
He watched her bend over inside the refrigerator and his gaze naturally skimmed over the tight-fitting jeans. They looked amazing on and showed off her hips. All he could manage was a silent thank you that his sister left those jeans at the house.
Clearing his throat, he turned back to his task and tried to concentrate on scooping another slice of lasagna onto the plate, but it toppled over the side and landed upside down on the counter. Shit. He’d made a mess. He hurried to hide the evidence of the disaster in the trash can. He had, after all, bragged to her that he was capable. When she was near he suddenly felt incompetent.
When he turned, she was standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hands clasped while she worked her bottom lip. That poor lip got a lot of action. “Have a seat,” he offered.
“I can take a plate back to the apartment.”
“Don’t be silly. Come sit with me. Growing up with a house full has made me spoiled. I like conversation while I eat.” It wasn’t a lie. After placing the plates on the table, he hurried around to pull out a chair for her. Although he seemed to lose his head when she was around, he didn’t forget his manners.
“Thank you,” she offered with a faint smile.
As he took his own seat he jabbed a noodle with his fork and jammed it into his mouth, catching her looking at him. Damn. Why was he so nervous? He couldn’t remember ever feeling so upside down. Problem was, he wasn’t used to eating in front of a woman and caring what she thought, but there was something about Monica that made him want to at least appear like he was raised to be a gentleman.
Spreading a napkin over his lap, he dove into his lasagna with less zeal this time.
When she wasn’t eating, he set his fork down on the side of his plate. “Is there something wrong?” He lifted a brow. Had he already offended her barely five minutes into the meal?
“Nothing. I was only waiting to see if you liked it or not,” she admitted.
He felt some relief. “It’s delicious. Try for yourself.” He pointed at her plate.
“It is pretty good.”
“We don’t want to forget the salad. Out here on the ranch we need vegetables to stay strong.” He first spooned her out some onto her plate, then he helped himself.
She slid her finger through the condensation of her tea glass. “There’s not a whole lot to do around here as far as cleaning so I was wondering do you think there’s something I could do to help on the land? I believe I’m a fast learner and I’m not afraid of hard work.”
He hesitated for three seconds before giving a little shrug. This was an opportunity to get to know her better…but only to pick her brain to figure out who wanted her dead of course. “Have you ever milked a cow? Mucked stalls? Brushed a horse?” When she lowered her eyes, he said, “You probably don’t remember.”
“No, I don’t, but honestly I don’t think I’ve ever done any of those things.”
“Good news is, those chores are easy to learn. You just need someone to show you the ropes.” He munched on a cherry tomato.
“I’ve already asked enough—”
“You haven’t asked anything. We’ve offered. Just like I’m offering to show you around the ranch.”
Her chin popped up and her eyes widened. “I couldn’t—I mean, you’re busy. I wouldn’t want you to take more time out of your schedule. Maybe a hand could show me.”
“I make my own schedule.” He couldn’t tell her that since he’d brought her to the ranch he hadn’t taken on any more jobs. “I wouldn’t mind showing you what it’s like to work a ranch, but I’ll warn you, it can be a messy job. You’ll find out why a cowboy is always dirty.”
Her smile lit her eyes. “I’d love to learn.”
“Then it’s a date.” Realizing what he said, he cleared his throat. “Life on a ranch starts early. Sunrise. Are you sure you want to take this on?”
“I’m sure.”
Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. He’d pay about anything to see that smile more often. His heart kicked up and his body tightened. He’d also pay about anything to bend her over right here at the dinner table and release some of his pent-up energy. He dragged his attention back to his plate and chomped on more lasagna. This wasn’t just any guest, but a woman who was wanted for questioning in a man’s murder. Although Deke knew that Cull brought Monica to the ranch, what Deke didn’t know was that she had memory loss. Cull had simply told him that she was hurt from the incident and needed some time to recoup before she was released in Deke’s custody. Deke had agreed to give Cull some leeway, even offered to pick her up from the ranch, but Cull wasn’t ready yet. Once a man was shot at, even if the bullet wasn’t meant for him, he had to find out who the shooter was, and Deke understood that all too well.
“Any more flashbacks?” he asked. What happened if she suddenly got her memory back? How would that switch things up? Rightly so, he would have to hand her over…wouldn’t he? He wasn’t the judge and jury, so he couldn’t decide whether she was guilty or innocent. His role was to take her in so she could plead her case. Answer important questions. Deke would take care of her, see that she was handled fairly.
“Some, but nothing that makes sense.” She rolled her finger around the rim of her glass. “It’s like watching ten seconds of a movie and hoping to understand the plot. There are times I feel something familiar, like déjà vu, but the feelings and images never develop into anything, at least nothing helpful. They could even be false memories. For instance, the poker you used on the fire in the woodstove. It flashed in my head, and I wondered if that’s what I had been hit with, but then I realized my mind had taken me down a wrong path.”
“It’s only been a few days. Give it some time. How are the headaches?”
“I’ve battled a few, but your mom gave me a magical salve that I rub on my temples and it works. She said it was made with tea tree oil and a few other natural ingredients. It could have been made with pig’s fat and I still would have lathered it on because it worked so well.” She chuckled.
“I hated when she’d use that stuff on my wounds when I was a kid. Nothing like going to school smelling like a walking essential oil. Let me take a look at it your head to see if the stitches are dissolving.” She seemed like she was ready to deny him, but he smiled. “If it helps, my brothers and I have all been trained in medical.”
“I trust you,” she said softly.
Those three little words could have easily been a lengthy speech on what she liked about him. However, what followed was a stab of guilt. If she knew his goal she’d probably feel violated—betrayed. Cull’s intentions weren’t to take advantage of her, but to do what was right. What was the right thing? He wasn’t sure. Instinct warned him there was more to the story than met the eye and without her memory intact, she couldn’t help him understand what was missing.
Stepping around to stand behind her chair, he pulled her hair back to see her forehead. Her hair felt like strands of silk in his palm and a tingle ran up his arm. “You’re healing great.” He looked down and that’s when he saw the fading finger bruises on her collarbone. It was the color of a ripe blueberry and about the size of a grape. The hair on his arms lifted and anger shot through him. This had to be leftovers from her attacker. If only fingerprints could be lifted off skin. Cull had hit a rock wall in finding the attacker. All the evidence in the apartment had been destroyed in the fire. There were no witnesses, no one who saw anyone suspicious coming and going.
Cull thought he had shot the attacker, but if he’d gone to any hospital or doctor’s office they would have reported the bullet wound and no reports had come in.
He’d spoken with some of the staff from the motel where Yates was murdered and still nothing. The staff member who found Yates dead had quit and Cull couldn’t find her.
“What’s wrong?” She looked up at him, curiosity lighting her green eyes.
“The bruise on your neck. I’m guessing it wasn’t there before the fire.”
She touched that spot on her skin. Her nails were short and neat and her fingers slender, exceptionally slender next to the large one imprinted in her skin. “I have several cuts and bruises.”
“The cut on your head is better. You have a good-sized bump left, but it’s healing.” He allowed her hair to fall back onto her forehead.
“What can I do to help find someone who knows me, someone who can possibly fill in the blanks of my life? Put up flyers? Speak to the police? There must be something I can do.”
He heard the unsteadiness in her voice. Drawing attention to her could have the attacker swarming the Cade ranch. “I know it’s difficult to sit back and wait, but we have to be careful. If we put your face out there, the man who did this could find you.” He sat back down in his chair.
Her shoulders slumped “You’re right. I understand. I’ve been thinking, if you can tell me everything you know about the fire maybe something will click in my head.”
“I’ve told you a few things already. The intruder used gasoline to start the fire. That’s why the apartment went up so fast and hot. I’d guess he was waiting for you inside the apartment when you walked in. The apartment manager said you hadn’t been home for a few days and hadn’t paid rent for the month.”
“I did have the backpack.”
“It’s possible you were on vacation.” He emptied his glass of tea, monitoring what he said. If he told her too much would she run? Could it disrupt the possibility of her getting her memory back?
“Is it possible I walked in and caught the burglar in the act?”
“Statistically, when homeowners catch a burglary in progress the thief doesn’t respond with a thought-out plan. They act impulsively which usually means running or taking care of any witnesses. This was a premeditative plan. The intruder had the gas and used it to get rid of evidence. I know this is hard to absorb, especially because you have no clue about the circumstances, but I still believe you’re in danger.” He blew out a long breath. “This person, he wants you dead, enough that he shot at us outside of the apartment. Me saving you wasn’t part of the plan.”
“So what you’re saying is that I had evidence of something in my apartment?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Do you think the intruder knew you? That he recognized you?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She brought up a good point and he’d thought about that possibility. “It was dark enough that I don’t think he could make out my face. We were sitting ducks out there. Instinct tells me he was trying to hit you and I was in the way.”
Her face paled some. “I’m trying to be brave, but this is all so much…”
He knelt at her side and laid his hand on her shaking fingers. “This is a lot, I know, but right now you’re where you should be. Nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it. I promise.” Yet, was he making promises he couldn’t keep? Even if they didn’t have a gunman on the loose, she was still a suspect in the death of a man she was having an affair with. His stomach clenched. That opened a whole new can of worms. Had she been in love with the dead man? Or was he just a bank account? What if Deke had her all wrong?
Was Cull grasping at straws now?
She nodded as if he made perfectly good sense. “I guess I need to stay patient and hopeful that everything will come back to me. It’s just…well…”
“You want to help find the guy.”
“I do, but I truly want to know what my life was like.”
“Hey, I understand. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just like the doc said, try to allow the memories to come back on their own. The prognosis is good.” He pulled his hand away and stood.
“Thank you. You’re right.” She stood too. “I better get these dishes washed and get back to the apartment. The crack of dawn will come bright and early.”
“I’ll help,” he offered and started stacking the dirty dishes. He watched her fill the sink with hot water and squirt in several drops of a detergent. “I’ll dry.” He hoped he could handle standing so close to her.
She had nice hands and he envied the china. Her hand moved the dishcloth across the plate with such ease and carefulness and an image broke through him, one of her touching him with the same tender care. He cursed under his breath. How ridiculous was he being? He envied a plate? He was turned inside out over a woman who didn’t even have a clue who she was. Fact was, he knew more about her than she did and what he did know wasn’t very good. “I want a cup of coffee. How about you?”
There was a slight hesitation. “No, I better not. I don’t want to be kept up half the night. My days of drowning in coffee to stay awake to cram for finals are over.” He stopped just as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I don’t know where that came from. I must have been taking classes. But what kind of classes?”
Seeing her smile at the small memory kicked him in the gut. He wanted to see her as a possible criminal, but when he looked at her, all he could see was a beautiful woman with bright eyes and a smile. She just didn’t fit the profile of…what? A woman who got caught up in a risky lifestyle? Good people found themselves making mistakes. But murder wasn’t just a mistake. If she had anything to do with a man’s death, her life would change drastically.
He had to be careful though because he was searching for the positive in her, trying to prove that she couldn’t do any wrong. He couldn’t deny that he liked her, even found her attractive, but in other circumstances—way other circumstances—he would have acted upon those feelings, but things were black and white when it came to the legal system. She was, at least, a witness to a crime and wanted for questioning.
Point blank.
He took an oath to uphold the law and he believed in the system.
Cull also believed in innocence until proven guilty.