Don't Mess With Texas (20 page)

They all nodded. After several seconds, Dallas’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. He pulled it from his pocket and flipped open the lid.

The text was from Suzan Kelly, his biweekly sex partner. “Friday not happening. Rain check?”

“Bad news?” Tyler asked.

Dallas looked up. “No,” he answered honestly. And that was what bothered him. He didn’t care if Suzan couldn’t make it Friday. He wasn’t even eager to schedule a rain check. The sex was good. It suited his needs and he made sure he suited hers. So since when did he lose interest in a night of no-strings-attached, commitment-free sex?

Since you have a gorgeous blonde taking up residence in your bed
.

He pocketed his phone without answering Suzan and decided to put it out of his mind for two weeks. He was dealing with Nikki and his mangled attraction for her a day at a time. “Did you get anything on Jack Leon?” he asked, remembering he’d put that bug in Tyler’s ear yesterday.

“Mostly gossip, but it’s interesting.” Tyler thumbed through a stack of files on his desk.

“While he finds that, you wanna update us on your houseguest’s case?” Austin asked.

Dallas leaned back in his chair. “You know about her ex being found in the car.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t fill us in on the best part.”

“What part?” Dallas eyed Austin’s shit-eating grin. Before the man answered the question, Dallas knew what it was.

“The part where she puked all over you.” Austin let out a deep laugh and held up his hands. “Sorry, but I would have loved to have seen the look on your face.”

Dallas rolled his eyes.

“She puked on you?” Tyler asked.

“The guys at the crime scene last night were talking about it,” Austin told Tyler. “They said Dallas had her by the shoulders, when she bent at the waist and got his shoes. Then she rose up and she got him right in the chest. Which is the reason he came in without a shirt on yesterday.” Austin laughed so hard he could hardly talk.

“I’m glad I gave you some comic relief,” Dallas said. “Can we get down to business now?”

They both sobered, but humor lingered in their eyes. No doubt, they’d give him shit about it later. Not that he blamed them. If the shoe was on the other foot—if it had been their shoes to have been christened with barf—he’d be doing some shit-slinging as well.

“Anyway…” Dallas filled them in on everything from Ellen’s attack to finding Nikki’s apartment broken into. When he finished, he looked at Tyler, who was busy taking notes—or listing questions to be answered. “Now, what you got on Leon?”

Tyler picked up the file he’d found earlier. “I searched some court records and found Leon handled a few big cases last year. Won most of them. Then I called my contact at the courthouse.”

“Who is that?” Dallas asked.

“My sister.” He smiled. “She works as Judge Hardgrave’s executive assistant and if there is one thing she excels at, it’s courthouse gossip. If it involves a lawyer, a judge, or a DA, that woman knows their dirty laundry.”

“So does Jack Leon have dirty laundry?” Dallas asked.

“She said Leon was a lady’s man, but serious about his career. Talk was he’d been up to make partner at his firm a year ago. Rumor was that Sterns only promoted family men. The divorce could have cost him that promotion.”

Dallas wondered if this was the reason Nikki’s ex was trying so hard to get her back, or if he really loved her. The man was dead and it shouldn’t even matter. It didn’t affect the case, but the question nipped at his mind.

“Oh, she also said Brian, the other senior partner, has a son working there. Andrew Brian is single, and not a great lawyer, but people were betting on who’d make partner first. Andrew or Leon.”

“Was there bad blood between the two?” Dallas asked.

“Don’t know, but I put it on my morning list of questions we need to answer.”

While some people created a to-do list, Tyler created question lists. He claimed he hated chores, but loved finding answers. So if a chore could be written as a question, he would get it done. Austin and Dallas had teased Tyler about the stupid head games he played with himself, but they had both learned the value of Tyler’s oddball ways.

“Good question.” Austin got up to get coffee.

“What are your other questions?” Dallas sipped his coffee and eyed Tyler over the rim of his cup. Oddball are not, of the three of them, Tyler was the best investigator. He saw angles and asked questions that Dallas and Austin didn’t think of. Not that Tyler’s angles were always right, but five times out of ten, one of his questions helped solve a case.

Tyler picked up his notepad. “Okay but these are for both cases and my… personal inquiries.” The emphasis Tyler put on “personal” meant something, but Dallas ignored it.

“Just read the list,” Dallas said.

Tyler looked back at the pad. “ ‘Who’s the witness at last night’s robbery homicide?’ ”

“Good one,” Dallas said. “And hopefully Tony will help us answer that one.”

Tyler tapped a pen against his list. “ ‘What was the relationship between Andrew Brian and Jack Leon?’“

“Another good one,” Dallas said. “I’ll see if Nikki knows anything about this man. And since Serena is using them to try to sue me for custody of Bud, I might go in and have myself a little chat with her lawyer.”

“It might work.” Tyler looked back at his list. “Number three, ‘Why does Detective Shane have a hard-on for our boy Nance?’ ”

“What do you mean?” Austin asked, resettling in his leather chair. “Nance was Shane’s arrest. He doesn’t want anyone to prove he screwed up.”

“Yeah. But Nance said it was Detective Shane who went to his house last night. That case was a homicide. It was Tony’s case, not Shane’s. It just seems as if paying Nance a visit after midnight goes above the call of duty.”

Dallas chewed on that thought. “Maybe he feels it’s
personal because we’re trying to prove him wrong? But I see your point. Look into it?”

Tyler nodded.

“Is that all? No more questions?” Dallas asked.

“Just one more.”

“Shoot,” Dallas said.

“O… kay.” Now it was Tyler who wore the shit-eating grin. “ ‘What is it about the blonde in Dallas’s bedroom that has him so damn nervous?’ ”

Dallas rolled his eyes. “On that note, I’ll go make a few phone calls.” Coffee in hand, he went back to his apartment. He started into the kitchen, but detoured down the hall. He eased open his bedroom door. Bud raised his head, then plopped it back on the bed as if to say, “Don’t even try to make me leave.”

What is it about the blonde in Dallas’s bedroom that has him so damn nervous?

It was a good question. And one Dallas hoped to answer soon.

Leaning against the door frame, he blew off the steam billowing up from the cup, and sipped at the hot brew. The desire to crawl in bed with Nikki and his dog was damn near irresistible.

Tony needed sleep, but with so much shit hitting the fan and slinging his way, if he took a few hours off, he’d be knee deep in crap. His cell beeped with a missed call as he walked into Methodist Hospital. He hoped it wasn’t Dallas. His brother was going to blow a gasket when he learned what Nikki’s ex in-laws had said. Sure, Tony had to tell him, but not now.

He pulled out his phone and saw it was Joe with CSU.
Tony had called Joe about seven times trying to get a report on the last two homicides, but Joe always took his sweet ass time.

Tony started to call Joe back but decided to do the interview first. Hopefully, Joe would have something that would help Nikki Hunt’s case.

According to Mrs. Leon, Nikki Hunt was a gold digger from the wrong side of the tracks, who married their son for his money and then insisted on alimony when they divorced. Thankfully their son had been smart enough to have her sign the prenuptial agreement. However, her son hadn’t been smart enough to cancel the quarter-million-dollar life insurance policy that listed Nikki Hunt as the sole beneficiary. In Texas, a divorce automatically removed an ex as the beneficiary, but not if a spouse had his ex reinstated afterward. Which according to Mrs. Leon, her son had done, because Nikki had insisted. Now Mrs. Leon wanted Nikki arrested.

Tony had called the insurance agency and confirmed the Leons’ story. Although Tony suspected Nikki Hunt wasn’t going to come out as clean she appeared, he’d been shocked by this. He’d learned a long time ago that most anyone could be provoked to kill, but to plan a murder for money, that took a special kind of lowlife.

With Dallas’s evidence speech from this morning bouncing in his head, Tony wasn’t ready to put a pair of handcuffs on Nikki. Tony just hoped Dallas realized that if something didn’t turn up soon, he wouldn’t have a choice.

The Leons were rich and influential people. Not that Tony would let that influence the case, but he’d made arrests on less probable cause. Still, things didn’t add up.

Heading to the ICU unit, hoping to get in to see Marjorie
Brown, the second shooting vic from last night’s robbery-homicide case, he paused at the hall where LeAnn had been working yesterday. Would she be here today? Hell, he went to see. The desk was unmanned and his chest ached with a flash of disappointment.

Whenever things got bad at work, LeAnn had been his touchstone to make things better. Just sliding in bed beside her, or watching her do silly stuff like rearrange the living room for the hundredth time, or watch her reading a book, made the ugly things he saw on the job less disturbing. The woman exemplified not just the good in the world, but its simple pleasures. And with the day and night he’d had, he could really use his touchstone now.

He missed her. Seeing her yesterday had made him realize how much. A nurse strolled out of a room and Tony walked over. “Is LeAnn O’Connor working today?”

The woman sized him up.

“I’m her husband,” he added. He didn’t say estranged, hoping that would change.

“She’s on break.”

The thought of seeing her filled his chest with joy. “Do you know where she goes on break?”

“The moon?” She offered him a smile. “Or maybe the cafeteria.”

He smiled. “Where’s that?”

She gave him directions.

“Thanks.” He started to leave.

“How long have you two been married?” she asked.

“Over two years. Why?”

She grinned. “The way you lit up when I said she was here, I thought you were honeymooners.”

“She’s special.” As he made his way to the elevator, he
decided to ask LeAnn out to dinner on Sunday. Take her somewhere nice. Maybe dancing. LeAnn loved to dance.

An image of her eight months pregnant dancing around the living room filled his mind. The pregnant part of the memory sobered his mood. He knew she was still hurting. Sooner or later, they had to talk about Emily. But not now. Now he just wanted to see his wife.

Nikki felt the wonderful peace of sleep being pulled out from under her. Resting on her side, she buried her cheek deeper into her pillow and tried to snatch back that sense of peace. However, the feel of the pillow against her cheek didn’t help. It felt… different somehow. As a matter of fact, everything felt different.

The mattress. It was firmer than hers.

The smells in the room. Spicy male aroma—so totally not the way her bedroom smelled.

The sensation of brightness behind her closed lids. Her bedroom wasn’t this bright.

However, she didn’t feel alarmed until she noted the biggest difference of all. She wasn’t alone on the firm mattress in the bright room filled with yummy scents.

The bulky, warm weight of someone at her back sent panic through her veins.

Oh crap!
Her eyes popped open.

Completely disoriented, she didn’t move anything but her eyes. Left to right, she took in her surroundings. The raw urge to scream crawled up her throat when she didn’t recognize anything that her wide-eyed visual sweep took in. Not the gray walls, the huge pine dresser or the pair of jeans—a man’s jeans—casually tossed over the top of that dresser.

The mental fog started to lift and bam, she remembered.
Jack, dead. Ellen, attacked. Her place, ransacked. And the good-looking, masculine-smelling PI who’d come to her rescue.

The bulky warmth at her back shifted ever so slightly. Had he… Had she…?
Oh, damn!

Forcing her brain into recall action, she collected bits and pieces of data. He’d brought her to his place. She’d showered. He refused to let her sleep on the sofa. She’d gone to his bed.
Alone
. She was sure she’d gone to bed alone.

She recalled tossing and turning. His smell in the bed had been intoxicating. As aromatic and tempting as cupcakes in a bright yellow kitchen—Nana’s old kitchen.

But this wasn’t Nana’s kitchen and Nikki prayed she hadn’t already indulged in any—metaphorical—cupcakes. Taking a deep breath, she realized she was fully dressed. Well, as dressed as one could be when wearing boxer-style shorts and a tank top. She did one more lap around her brain, searching for anything that led her to believe she’d given into temptation.

Finally convinced that while he might have joined her in the bed, they hadn’t done the deed, she took in a deep breath. The bulk against her upper back, possibly a shoulder, shifted again. Then she felt it… the rake of a warm tongue against her neck.