All Through the Night (Liar's Web) (6 page)

“
And as far as choosing, it seems to me that they already chose you the moment they brought you home.”

She hung her head low, avoiding making eye contact with him. He'd shamed her, pure and simple. She knew her parents loved her just as much as Lenny. She knew it with every fiber of her being. But sometimes there was something inside her making her feel as if she weren't a whole person. It was unsettling to go through your whole life without knowing anything about the people who'd given you life.

Not having any information about her birth parents and the circumstances surrounding her adoption made her feel insecure. Unwanted. Untethered. Trueblood was right, she realized. She needed to accept her adopted parents' love unconditionally and explore her own feelings to uncover why she felt unworthy of their love. It was dangerous and unfamiliar territory for her, but it had to be done.

“
You're right,” she acknowledged. “I couldn't be more loved by my parents.” She finally made eye contact with Trueblood, a move she instantly regretted as she drank in the sheer beauty of his onyx-colored eyes. It startled her to the point where she was forced to look away.

“
I'd give my right arm to have parents like that,” Trueblood said in a wistful voice. He cleared his throat and turned his head to look out the driver's side window. “I lost my mother when I was a teen and my father…well, let's just say he was never father of the year.”

“
Point taken,” she murmured, feeling humbled by Trueblood's honesty.

Within seconds they were back on the road and driving toward the more rural part of town. After making their way down several narrow dirt roads they pulled up at a beautiful log cabin home. After stepping from the car, she took a moment to drink in the rustic charm of Trueblood's house while he busied himself collecting her luggage. When she offered her help with the bags, he shrugged her off, allowing her more time to give his home the once over.

If she wasn't mistaken, this property was a former ruin owned by an eccentric recluse in town. It was amazing what he'd done to restore the home from a wreck into a stylish home. As a realtor she was impressed by the sleek design of the cabin and the unique stonework by the front porch. The pebbled walkway added an element of grace to the masculine design of the home. Two over-sized Adirondack chairs in contrasting colors of red and orange sat on the porch, lending a vibrant, welcoming air to the place.

“
What you've done is amazing,” she gushed as Trueblood walked toward her carrying her luggage. “I remember seeing this place a few years ago. Most buyers wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

“
Thanks. I have a buddy who's a contractor, and he came down from San Antonio to help me build this place. Lots of others like Case and Drew helped out on weekends. Sometimes it takes a village to make things happen.”

“
Who's the architect?”

The corners of his mouth twisted wryly as he said, “You're looking at him.”

Darcel couldn't hide her surprised expression. She would never have guessed Trueblood had designed his beautiful home. It seemed the Sheriff of Liberty Creek was way more talented than he let on. Crime fighter. Ball buster. Architect.

A small chocolate lab came bounding over to them from the backyard, his excitement evident at seeing his master and a guest. After jumping on Trueblood, he focused his energy on Darcel, yipping at her heels and running around her in circles.

“
Down, Bonkers. Sit,” he commanded with a simple hand gesture.

Bonkers didn't seem interested in following any of his owner's commands. The puppy was having a field day making her acquaintance as he alternated between sniffing and licking her.

“
Bonkers,” she said with an easy laugh. “I wonder where that name came from.”

“
It's a perfect name for him because he's a maniac,” he explained as he lifted the puppy into his arms and let him slobber him with kisses. With Bonkers in one hand and her luggage in the other, he climbed the porch steps and motioned for her to follow him into the house.

The interior of Trueblood's cabin was warm and inviting. He'd painted his walls in earth tones—the living room was a bright splash of clay, the kitchen was a warm sand, and the dining room was a rich sage. Although it was modestly decorated, she could tell he'd taken great pains to create an atmosphere of tranquility and comfort. Native American artwork hung on the wall, bold and powerful paintings with great broad strokes of color. They added a unique aspect to the log cabin.

“
These are beautiful,” she complimented. “Who's the artist?

“
My sister.”

Sister? She'd had no idea he even had a sister. He always came across as a lone wolf, a person who walked alone in the world. She shot him a questioning look.

“
Her name is Ruby. She lives on the Reservation. She's my half-sister, although I hate to make that distinction. There's really no half about it. We're one hundred percent blood.”

Pine Creek Reservation. Years ago she'd visited the Reservation for a field trip with her fifth grade class. She remembered the air of heavy disappointment within the school bus as the children realized they wouldn't be seeing any teepees or scalped heads. Instead, they'd met jewelry makers, faith healers, farmers, and weavers. And they'd seen the abject poverty of the Reservation up close and personal.

It was an experience she'd never forget. Although she was curious about his sister's life on the Reservation, his shuttered face let her know he wasn't entertaining any questions about his personal life.

After showing her to the upstairs guest bedroom where she'd be staying, he pointed out the amenities of the room. “There's a chest of drawers and an armoire where you can store your clothes. There's a closet over there and an adjoining bathroom. Don't open the windows under any circumstances. We don't want to give anyone an open invitation to come in.”

“
Thanks. It looks comfortable,” she said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by how quickly her life had turned upside down. Was she really at Trueblood's house preparing to live in his guest bedroom?

“
If you're hungry I can make some burgers while you settle in.”

“
I'm starved,” she admitted. “I haven't eaten since last night.”

He turned to leave the bedroom, his steps faltering as he turned back toward her. “We're going to have to talk about the shooter. I know you said it's all a blur, but once you get some rest, maybe it'll all come back to you. We have a great sketch artist we use. She'll work with you to flesh out the details. No pressure.”

She nodded her head. “Okay. But I still don't remember his face. I know it's odd, but I don't. Doc thinks it might be post-traumatic stress.” She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I know someone wants me dead,” she added as she fingered the bruises around her neck, “and it scares the hell out of me because I don't know who it is.”

His expression became fiercer as she spoke, and she watched him clench and unclench his jaw, his bold features looking almost savage with intensity.

“
You don't need to be afraid. ‘Cause whoever he is, he's going to have to go through me to get to you. I'm not about to let that happen.”

With those forceful words, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. After he left, she let out the deep breath she'd been holding. It hadn't been easy admitting to him she was scared. He wasn't exactly a teddy bear. He was more like a grizzly. And she
wa
s
 
scared. Terrified. Someone wanted her dead. She'd witnessed a murder. Her whole life had been turned upside in less than twenty-four hours because of her brother's shady dealings.

Maybe Daddy was right about Lenny having to finally deal with his reckless lifestyle. But at the moment she was the one who was caught up in the madness. Although Lenny was in police custody, he wasn't the focus of a killer's wrath. She was the one who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was dearly paying the price for it.

She had to admit it. Trueblood made her feel safe. Being safeguarded by him wasn't a total waste of time, she realized. Someone out there was a killer, and even though she'd blocked out the memory, she'd seen the killer's face. And he knew it! She shivered as a cool chill swept through her body at the memory of Ronnie's death. Although her memories were a bit shaky, she remembered sitting in the car and dozing off as she waited for Ronnie.

She'd heard something then…a popping sound. A gunshot? When she'd looked through the windshield, she'd seen a hazy figure wielding a gun. And that's where the memories came to a crashing halt. There was nothing but darkness, as if a black sheet had been placed over the entire scene.

Why couldn't she remember? She took a deep breath, willing herself to put aside the terrifying memory of seeing Ronnie's blood-soaked body slumping to the ground. A look of agony had been etched on his face, and his eyes had been wide open. Her heart began beating faster as she relived the terror of being chased by the shooter until she'd been rescued by Trueblood. She covered her face with her hands and shook her head back and forth, determined to rid her mind of the unsettling images.

She took a moment to admire the room she'd be staying in while she was under the protection of the sheriff. Continuing with his theme of earth tones, the walls were painted a pretty blush color, nicely complimenting the baby-blue comforter and the cream throw pillows gracing the queen-sized bed. The room looked pretty stark, and she had the strangest feeling it hadn't seen many visitors. She walked toward the bathroom door and turned the crystal doorknob.

As she pushed open the door, rays of sunshine poured into the room. The room was painted a soft buttercup-yellow and had a dainty, feminine appeal. She wondered idly who had inspired the guest quarters. A woman, no doubt, she imagined. Everything about this room seemed to contradict Trueblood's masculine vibe.

When her gaze landed on the antique claw-foot tub, she thought she'd died and gone to heaven. It was a masterpiece. She trailed her fingers along the top of the tub, admiring the grace and elegance of the marble. Where on earth had he found this treasure? As a lover of antiques, she was constantly going to estate sales in the hopes of finding a tub like the one Trueblood owned.

She smiled at the thought of sitting in that tub and luxuriating while sipping a wine cooler and listening to her favorite Jon Legend CD. It could be positively decadent! She imagined herself lying in the tub surrounded by bubbles and soothing music with strong, bronze hands massaging her neck. An image of Trueblood rubbing her down with oil popped into her mind, and she blinked several times to rid herself of the image.
Where the hell did that come from?

“
Get it together, Darcel. Just because he's easy on eyes is no reason to have sexy bath fantasies about the man.”

The scent of burgers sent her out of the guestroom and heading toward the kitchen. Trueblood stood by the stove with his back to her, his dark hair swinging as he cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder while flipping burgers in the frying pan.

“
Tell the parents to go home. He's not making bail tonight.” He paused as he listened to the other end of the conversation, managing to scoop the burgers out of the pan and flip them on to their buns.

“
Keep him overnight, Bo. Pull him of his cell every hour on the hour for interrogation. Give him water and nothing but. Don't even let a crumb of food pass through his lips. By the time morning comes, he'll be singing like a bird about Ronnie. We need to act on this fast and get him talking.”

She must've let out a small sound because he turned in her direction with a look of surprise in his eyes. She watched him disconnect from the call and place his cell phone in his pocket. He turned toward her, his face devoid of expression. “You probably heard all that, but in case you didn't—your brother's being held overnight in jail,” he stated simply, his eyes never wavering from her gaze.

Overnight? Lenny was being held in a tight, four-by-four jail cell with no windows or a way out? Her brother was severely claustrophobic and had panic attacks whenever he was placed in small spaces. Being placed in a jail cell would make him stir-crazy, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. A feeling of rage overtook her as she imagined her brother falling apart in a tiny box meant for thugs and killers.

She clenched her fists at her side, slamming her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to see the smug, self-righteous lawman standing before her. He didn't have a heart, and he was surely missing a soul. After taking a few deep breaths to steady her anger, she opened her eyes.

“
Well, Sheriff, you should be damn proud of yourself,” she spit out. She shook her head with disgust and walked toward the staircase, ignoring the rumbling in her stomach, because she knew she'd rather die than share a meal with that man.

Chapter Four

He'd barely drifted off to sleep before the piercing screams shattered the predawn silence. He threw the covers back, jumped out of bed, and quickly grabbed his .45 from his bedside table. He bounded down the hall to the guest bedroom, kicking the door open with one swift thrust of his leg. Trueblood palmed his gun and walked across the threshold, prepared for anything.