My Tye (33 page)

It was clear to him now that big guy would stop at nothing to exact his revenge on Laine. But it was even more clear, in both his heart and his mind, that Tye was never going to allow that to happen. Catch him off guard once, shame on him. Catch him off guard twice?

Not a fucking chance in hell.

* * * * *

Earl Harlan trudged along the edge of the tree line, hopped up on the adrenaline firing through his blood. He wasn’t parked that far out, just a few hundred yards or so off the sheriff’s property. As he cornered the copse of crabapple trees hiding his van, he headed straight for the cracked side mirror. He twisted the thing sideways, turned around and carefully lifted up his soaked and bloody t-shirt. From over his shoulder, he could see the entrance wound where that asshole had shot him. The bullet went clean through, so he at least had that going for him. Other than that, and the damn-near hard-on he’d gotten from dumping those two over the side of the ravine, nothing else had gone as planned.

He’d been so close—just seconds from slipping away from his hiding spot in the stables so he could sneak up behind the bitch as she sat on the fence. She would’ve tried to scream as he grabbed her, he knew, but one well-placed crack to the side of her head and that would’ve quickly become a non-issue.

But no. Because of Carter, Earl had his glory stolen from him. He’d had his vengeance ripped out from underneath him.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

Earl used the wet t-shirt to clean up the blood coating his skin. He wiped harder, faster, until he got so pissed he ended up throwing the damn shirt and kicking the door of his van. A chunk of rust fell from the running boards, which upped his mad all the more. But what made it worse, what made him grit his teeth and go at the metal slider on his piece-of-shit van with a few dozen one-two punches, were the images seared into his brain of what happened when the sheriff had first come outside.

He hadn’t been happy, yet Morgan all but threw herself at him. Earl couldn’t hear everything Carter had yelled at her or the few words she’d shouted back, and he didn’t really care to. Still, after Carter had fucked her, they’d gotten quiet. Downright fucking cozy. It was like the rest of the world could’ve blown up and they wouldn’t have heard it, felt it, or even given a shit.

No woman had ever looked at him the way Morgan had looked at Carter. No woman had ever thrown herself at him without wanting his money, his car, or his blood and guts in return. And, buried deep down inside, what killed him was that he knew no woman ever would.

To hell with it. He didn’t want that anyway. No man in his right mind should. And if he wasn’t going to have it, then he’d make damn sure they weren’t going to, either. Besides, they were the ones who decided to raise the stakes this go-round, not him. Too bad for them, it was his turn now.

And with the little prize he now had tucked into the waistband of the jeans he wore, he was more than ready to raise the stakes.

* * * * *

Within twenty minutes of Laine and Tye making it back to the ranch, all hell had broken loose. Tye had insisted on searching the house right away and she wasn’t about to try to talk him out of it. He made call after call, practically yelling into the phone as he went through each room of the house, all the while telling and retelling what they’d just gone through. Laine followed close behind, since he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, not even for a minute.

He found nothing out of place, thank God.

After they’d changed out of their dripping wet clothes into dry jeans and t-shirts, Tye checked all of the locks on the windows and doors while she tried to find something to do. She needed to keep busy or her thoughts would end up wandering—which, considering her freaked out and scared state of mind right now, was not a good thing. She diverted her attention by making a pot of hot coffee. Lame and cliché, maybe, but it was working for her, so she’d be damned if she’d knock it.

Not long afterward, Deputy Tom Wyland showed up. Dr. Seaver, making a rare but much-needed house call to stitch up Tye’s wounds, ran a close second. Mac was the last to arrive. He wore a scowl on his face and worry riddled his eyes.

He pulled Laine into a warm hug as soon as he walked in. “You’re okay.”

He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her. She felt the resolution these two men possessed to find the assailant, and she felt it clear to her bones.

Mac kept one arm around her, holding her close. He clasped Tye on the shoulder, just as Tye stood from where Seaver had been working on his wounds so he could wrap his leg in gauze.

“Based on the age, make and model of the van you chased, we’ve got a good lead on a name and address. There aren’t too many old vans like that still in commission around here, or anywhere else for that matter.”

Laine stepped out of Mac’s arms. “You have someone? Who is it?”

“We don’t
have
him, but we have a name. An ex-con named Earl Harlan. Sentenced to two years on a drug charge, but he ended up serving nineteen months and some change. Was released a month ago.” Mac pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “Someone in your office was the PD assigned to his case. An Amy Phillips.”

“Amy. She’s good. She was a little green back then, but she’d graduated near the top of her class. I’ve never heard any complaints about her.”

Mac nodded. “I checked out the address we came up with before I drove over here. The apartment was empty and the neighbors said they hadn’t seen anyone going in or out for the last day or two. From the physical description they gave me, though, it’s got to be our guy. I assigned patrols to circle the area. We’ll know if he shows back up.”

Tye grimaced. “He won’t.”

Laine’s gaze shot to his. “What makes you say that?”

“Gut feeling,” he said, rolling down his pant leg now that Doc Seaver was done. “He’ll want to finish what he started. Which is doing whatever he can to make sure we’re…taken care of, for lack of a better term.”

Laine shivered just as Mac added, “There’s more.”

Her stomach cramped. “Oh God. What?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure what he did to you was premeditated. I made a few calls on my way over and ended up having a hell of a conversation with the warden at the state pen. Turns out our little friend Earl liked to complain. A lot. He’d go on and on about how the DA had fucked him over and how the County Public Defender had to have been in on it for it to go down the way it had.” He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers when she started to bristle. “Those were his words, not mine. I also found out something else. Harlan’s cellmate was none other than Jeffrey Perry.”

“The man convicted of hurting all those women years ago?” Laine asked.

“The very same one,” Mac answered.

Tye’s face and neck flushed a crimson red. “I’ll be a son of a bitch.”

All the unusual circumstances from the last two weeks began to fall into place at Mac’s revelation. She forked her fingers through her hair, pressing her palms hard against her scalp. She was afraid that if she didn’t, her head might explode. She hadn’t been the victim of some random act of violence. She’d been sought out. Followed. Hurt because of the job she held, not because of some secret fantasy she’d looked to fulfill.

She’d been the one to lead him to Club Euphoria. Back to the scene of the crime, so to speak. Back to exactly where he wanted her to go in the first place.

Nausea rolled up from her stomach to settle in her throat. She spun away from the men, but there was nowhere for her to go. Tom was there, as was the doctor. All of this was too much for her handle, and these men were taking up way too much space. She headed for the door, flung it open and stopped dead in her tracks.

Haven Sims held her hand poised to knock on the door. Instead, she smiled, albeit a bit sheepishly. “Ms. Morgan.”

Tye came up behind Laine. He brushed her back with his tight chest, and she swore she heard him growl. Apparently, his leftover fury from the fight hadn’t quite dissipated just yet. “Ms. Sims. What are you doing here?”

Haven hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “Um. The police scanner. I have one in my car. I heard there’d been some trouble out here.”

Laine slumped her shoulders. She’d had just about enough of this. “So you thought you’d just show up and get the scoop?”

“Ms. Morgan, I’m a reporter. It’s what I do.”

Tye’s voice barely veiled his vehemence. “Then do it somewhere else.”

“No, wait,” Laine said.

Tye looked at her like she’d lost her mind. And well, maybe she had. But it was either give this woman a generalized statement to make her happy and send her on her way or deal with her popping up whenever the shit hit the fan again. And honestly, if Laine’s position as Public Defender had taught her anything, it was how to deal with reporters with stealthy evasiveness and simple tact. She could totally nail this.

“It’s okay,” she went on, turning back to Haven. “If you agree to no cameras, nothing recorded, I’ll give you a statement and then allow you to ask a few questions.”

“On the record?”

Sure, why not. “On the record.”

“Wait a minute,” Tye started, but Laine held up her hand to stop him.

Haven was rummaging through her bag, pulling out a pen and a steno pad and smiling like she’d just won the lotto. Laine indicated the kitchen table on the other side of the room. “You can wait there for me. I’ll be right over. Just give me a minute.”

The woman practically skipped past her and took a seat at the table. Tye had his hands fisted at his sides as Mac came up beside him.

“Think this is wise?” Mac asked.

Laine thumbed the throbbing tension growing between her eyebrows. “I can handle her. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything I shouldn’t. I’ve actually become pretty adept when it comes to dealing with reporters. Trust me.”

“It’s not a question of that,” Tye said, softening his stance and loosening his hands some. “She’s the last person you need to deal with right now.”

Laine had to chuckle. “Frankly, I don’t want to deal with
anyone
, but what I want has quickly become irrelevant. You were right. This is the profession I chose and people, like it or not, are going to dig. If I can head off that digging when it comes to my personal life, even if it’s just for a little while, then I’m going to do it.”

“I don’t like it,” Tye said.

“Neither do I, but what choice do I have?” She looked from Tye to Mac, who was busy eyeing Haven as she crossed her long legs. “Earth to Mac?”

His shameless gaze snapped back to Laine’s. “Sorry, what?”

She wanted to groan. “Nothing. Just give me twenty minutes and I’ll have her on her way.”

Mac nodded and reached for his hat hanging on the hook by the front door. “While she’s doing that, how about we go out to the pasture and find that gun you lost?”

Tye narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Laine placed her hand on his forearm in an attempt to soothe him, but he paid no attention. Hell, he was wound tighter than a drum.

“A, I didn’t lose it. It was kicked out of my grip. And B, are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not leaving her.”

Mac situated the hat on his head and scanned the room, calm and calculating. “Tom’s here and he’s armed. Your man would have to be pretty unstable to come back so soon anyway. Besides, you look like you could use some fresh air. If we go now, we can be back before she finishes with Ms. Sims.”

“I don’t need any goddamn fresh air,” he said, even though it was clear to everyone standing in the room that he did.

Laine squeezed his arm. “Go with him. It’ll do you good,” she said when he started to protest. “We’ll be okay here with Tom.”

Tom rose from his spot on the couch and moved to stand guard at the door. He didn’t say a word, he simply gave Tye a look that said he had the situation under control.

“Damn it,” Tye muttered. He wasn’t happy about this, but they were right. He felt like he was ready to explode. He pointed a finger at Tom. “You don’t get more than ten feet away from her. Understood?”

Tom widened his legs and rested his hand on the butt of his gun. “Yes sir.”

“I’ll walk out with you boys,” Doc Seaver said as he came up behind them, looking more than a bit relieved that he was ready to head out.

Tye turned to Laine, cupped her cheek and kissed her with a gentleness he hoped belied the agitation still caterwauling through his system. “Stay away from the doors and windows. I’m going to make this as quick as I can.”

She latched onto his wrist and stood on her toes to kiss him again. “I know you will,” she whispered to him.

Tye eyed Tom. “Lock this door behind me. No one gets in.” With Tom’s nod, Tye followed Mac and the doctor. He breathed in the rain-scented air deeply, even though he knew the chances of it actually calming him down so he could focus his thoughts were slim to just about none. He shook the doc’s hand, thanked him and then headed toward the stables as the other man drove away. Mac was already inside when he got there.

“Hell, man,” Mac said, surveying the damage Harlan’s hail of bullets had caused.

Tye didn’t answer him. Instead, he stormed straight through, stopping only for a second to slam his fist over the hole in the rear door where his first bullet was firmly lodged. Fuck, he’d been so close to nailing Earl Harlan—hell, he
had
nailed him, out in the pasture. But the guy was like one of those bop punching bags he’d played with as a kid. He’d get knocked down only to pop right back up again, like he’d been bothered by nothing more than an annoying mosquito trying to bite him.