Pretty Reckless (Entangled Ignite) (19 page)

Four hours until I needed to be ready for the ball. I slumped against the counter, the pressure of tonight, the murders, and the fact that I still had no idea why someone wanted me out of the way badly enough to beat me up and kill my dog had started to take its toll.

I warily browsed my kitchen, suddenly realizing that, damn it, there was no sign of Boomer anywhere, not even a cleaned-up counter. That couldn’t be good, especially if anyone besides me and Gunner knew what Boomer thought he saw out at Arrowhead Range. For a moment, I debated about going out looking for the drunken reprobate. The liquor store and Rusty’s bar were probably the most logical places to look if he’d gone off on his own, but there were also dozens of other places he tended to go to ground when he went on a bender, too. I gnawed my thumb over the quandary for a moment. When no solution presented itself, I thought
fuck it
and hooked the black heels over my thumb, folded the dress over my arm, locked up, and left.

Hell, yes, I was concerned about Boomer, but there was just no way for me to keep track of a grown man in constant search of self-destruction, so I swore out the serenity prayer and let him go.

The lights were on when I pulled up outside Nathan’s house and gathered up the dress and shoes. He opened the door holding a nearly empty glass of wine before I was able to shove my keys into the lock and stepped into the humid air. I gave him a small smile and pushed past him through the doorway.

“Nice dress,” he said, casually touching my arm.

I hugged it into myself, suddenly unsure where this was going or if I wanted it to go there. “Thanks. I wanted something memorable.”

“I think you hit the mark.” He let the red silk slide through his hand.

“I’ll be ready in forty,” I said, slipping past him and up the stairs. He nodded and watched me go before heading back into the kitchen for more wine.

I bathed quickly and stepped into the tight, red dress, fluffed my hair, and made up my face, paying close attention to the concealer I used to hide the still visible bruises on my face. Then I stopped in front of the mirror, appraising a job well done. My red dress screamed “drool boys.” I pulled my pocketbook under my arm and walked down stairs.

Nathan was waiting by the door dressed in a pair of khaki’s and a white dress shirt. “Dang, Laney,” he said. “You’re gonna make some women jealous tonight. And drive the men crazy.”

I sent him a naughty smile and took his hand.
Exactly,
I thought
, I needed to snag myself a cowboy. In particular one named Luke Wagner.

He opened the front door and stopped to look over his shoulder at me. “By the way, Dobbs called when you were in the shower. Boomer’s truck was found on the side of the road wrapped around a stop sign post.”

I gaped at him. Did I just hear him right? Everyone knew Boomer was a drunk, but he never tossed back the bottle and got behind the wheel. “Is he okay?”

“That’s the kicker—Boomer wasn’t there.” His brows pulled to together. “Honey, Dobbs will handle it. Just for one night, will you do me a favor and not think about work?”

“Why not?” I lied through my teeth. “Don’t we all deserve a little a vacation,” I said and grabbed hold of the overhead handle, hoisting myself up inside the truck.

But first thing first, I was going to capture Luke Wagner’s attention, then drag him out by the ears. I didn’t care if the lying bastard kicked and screamed the whole way. I was going to get the information I needed out of him no matter what. Including the information about where Boomer was now.

And I didn’t give a flying fuck what Gunner might think when I did it.

Chapter Fifteen

Nathan cruised through the wrought iron gates marked with two six foot gold W’s, welcoming us to the Wagner’s ranch. A cast iron sign flapped overhead in the gusty wind, and the paved driveway sparkled from the white Christmas lights looped about the trees. We wound our way up the drive and parked next to a baron oak tree.

I slid out and slammed my door shut, glaring at the black Yukon Nathan had parked us next to—and it made me wonder if he’d done it deliberately as a means to wave me in front of the Texas Ranger’s face as a prize he’d beaten Gunner out of.

It was moments like these when I debated becoming an old maid and taking in a dozen stray cats.

I kicked a heel at the Yukon’s driver’s door and squeezed between the bulky vehicles to find Nathan slumped against the truck’s bumper waiting for me. He straightened as I appeared and gave Gunner’s SUV a self-satisfied smirk that made me want to slap him and slipped his hand in mine to lead me toward the big, red barn doors.

The wind ruffled up my dress and kissed at the back of my neck. Nathan smiled as we stepped inside the barn and quickly began a slow search of the room. I felt his hand tighten around mine when he locked in on Gunner kicked back in his chair with his boots propped up on the table. The brim of his hat was angled over his square jaw. The sleeves of his black pearl snap were rolled up to the elbows, giving me a view to his inked forearm. Heat swept across my cheeks. Damn tattoo.

The grin on Gunner’s face widened. I heard Nathan mutter a few choice words before he dragged me to our table.

Mitch had outdone himself this year. The room was decked out with lace table cloths and crystal, hourglass vases stuffed with an overload of yellow roses. Next to the empty horse stalls, the stage was set up for the local band, The Night Whistlers, who couldn’t hold a tune if their lives depended on it.

Nathan slipped off his coat and pulled out a chair for me. As I was about to take my seat, a shoulder brushed my back. I spun around to find myself face-to-face with Gunner. I gulped, watching that tight, black pearl snap stretch and pull at those wide shoulders.

“Howdy.” Gunner acknowledged Nathan with a tip of his hat.

Nathan jerked me back to his side, never letting his hateful glare leave Gunner’s face. “I’m not stupid, Gunner. I know what you’re up to. Stay away from Laney.”

I shot a nervous look at Gunner, who casually stuffed his hands into the pockets of his Wranglers and slowly rocked back on his heels.

“Wasn’t up to anything,” Gunner said blandly. He gave me a wide grin that twisted my stomach in knots. “Just have some business pertaining to work that I need to discuss with Laney. It’ll only take a minute.” He cuffed Nathan’s shoulder. “I promise.”

Nathan shrugged out from under his hand. “I’m keeping an eye on you, asshole,” he snarled, then laid one hell of a wet one on my lips. “And I’m keeping an eye on you, too, honey,” he promised menacingly, pulling away and leaving me with a pair of sore lips. “I’ll just be over at the bar, Laney.” He stalked away.

Eyes narrowed, Gunner watched him go. “Someone having a bad day?”

I ignored the question, shuffling out onto the plywood dance floor with him. When he swung me in to his arms, I narrowed my eyes at him.

“This isn’t work.”

He slipped me a wicked smile. He twirled me, then whipped me back, crushing me against his chest. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Not even a little,” I said, trying to extricate myself from his embrace. “Has anyone told you lately how sorry you are?”

“Couldn’t pass up a chance to get my feel of you in this dress.”

“Gunner, we need to get down to business before Nathan loses it,” I said. “If he does, it won’t be you who suffers.”

I knew I’d made a mistake when his gaze on me darkened, and he drew our dance to a halt.

“Is he hurting you, Laney?” When I shook my head without responding, he let go of my waist and rocked back to study me carefully. Then his gaze shuttered, but all he said was, “Okay, let’s discuss Luke then.”

I gulped. “Fine. But here’s the deal. This is my town and my job. I’m going to handle this with Luke, and you’re going to step aside and let me.”

His mouth formed a grim line. “It’s my job, too, Laney.”

I’d just shifted my weight to stare him down when I heard a deep chuckle behind me. I whipped around to find the man in question hanging all over the woman I’d once found in bed with Gunner.

The trouble with small towns is that there are only so many people to go around, which makes the likelihood of running into someone you never want to see again way too high.

“Well, if isn’t Gunner Wilson,” Wynona’s sultry voice purred. She flipped a clump of her platinum blonde hair behind a shoulder and pinned her greedy, blue eyes on me. She might be president of the Junior League and the Elizabeth Taylor of Pistol Rock in the looks department, but she was also an all-around bitch. We’d never seen eye-to-eye even before she seduced Gunner. Of course, I might be biased, given that I still held a grudge over my mother choosing her over me as Miss Tumbleweed in eighth grade. The past is muddy, but the hatred was clear as day. “And Laney, how are you and Nathan doing these days?”

I plastered on an insincere smile. “We’re doing great. Getting married next Saturday.” I cut my eyes back to Luke. “I need a word,” I told him.

Wynona stepped forward and planted her manicured hand on my shoulder. “He’s with me tonight, sugar.”

Beside me, I could feel Gunner winding up to get dangerous. I sent him a ‘not here’ glare and put some flint in my voice when I said, “It pertains to a case we’re working. I’ll see you get him back when we’re finished.”

Of course, I didn’t tell her we might not be finished with Luke for a while.

She looked like she might argue, but Luke detached himself from her with a firm, “I won’t be long” that she couldn’t ignore.

“You might be,” Gunner said under his breath.

When Wynona shot him a killing scowl, he smiled at her as though maybe she should save him a dance—or two—and she turned and flounced away almost mollified. I sent him a disbelieving stare.

“Really,” I said, “Right here in front of her date and me? Chain your dog, Gunner. I’ve still got plenty of rock salt.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. “Got rid of her, didn’t it?” He eyed Luke. “We still need to talk.”

“What d’ya need?” Mitch Wagner’s son asked affably, leading us off the dance floor and over to a private corner behind The Night Whistlers bandstand.

As soon as I was pretty sure no one could see us, I smacked a fist into his chest. “You sorry bastard.” My voice spiked up a notch. “Where the hell is Boomer, and what else have you been lying to me about besides not knowing who killed Hank?”

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Luke asked, rubbing the spot where I’d poked him.

It would be impolite to keep the son of a bitch on his toes all night.

“How come you didn’t tell me about being on Bosley’s land the night of Pacey Monroe’s murder?”

I’ll admit that stunned look slowly spreading across his face was the highlight of my night.

He stilled. “Who told you that?”

I shoved deeper into the shadows behind the bandstand. “Boomer saw you. Now his truck’s wrapped around a stop sign, and he’s missing, so start talking or I arrest you on the spot.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gunner give me a look of startled approbation, then a big thumb’s up. Before me, Luke’s previously laughing blue eyes turned wary.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

He glanced at Gunner, then back at me. “With him at your back, I wouldn’t dare.”

I was pretty sure there was some hidden comment in that statement—one I had no desire to take the time to figure out. Taking two good steps back, I slung my hands upon my hips. “Well, spit it out.”

Instead of doing so, he seized my wrist and yanked me after him. “Outside, now,” he ordered, his voice rough and his breath ragged.

Gunner made a grab for me in passing, but Luke was faster, dragging me through the crush of dancers and people milling about between us and the double barn doors. Cursing, Gunner made a beeline after us. I caught a glimpse of Nathan staring curiously after us, then we were outside, Luke’s hat had flown off, and we were headed toward a tall oak hidden from his guests’ prying view. He’d just slung me against the rough tree trunk when Gunner arrived to jerk Luke away from me and twist his arm behind his back. Then it was Luke’s turn to wind up planted against the rough tree bark—face first with Gunner’s fist in his hair.

“Tell me the plan, Luke,” he said with soft menace and released Luke with a forward shove.

“All right, okay.” Hands wide from his sides in an attitude of submission, Luke turned and slumped against the tree trunk. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a toothpick and rolled it between his finger and thumb. “How well do you know Nathan?” he asked me, slipping the toothpick between his lips.

I looked from him to Gunner and back. “Oh…don’t you dare try to bullshit me, Luke Wagner.”

He flipped the toothpick about his tongue. “If I was bullshitting, cutie, you wouldn’t even know it.” He kicked the tree with the heel of a boot. “There’s a lot you don’t know. For instance, I bet you didn’t know Nathan was having money problems.” He paused to let that sink in.

I felt Gunner slide a step closer to me but said nothing, waiting for Luke to hang himself.

Watching us, Luke huffed out a laugh. “That’s right, Laney, your fiancé begged my father for a loan a few days ago. He must be missing a few marbles, because everyone knows my old man doesn’t hand over cash.”

I rammed a finger at his wide chest. “Is that the best you’ve got, Wagner? I thought you were more clever than to—”

Luke readjusted his back against the tree, shifted his boot to the ground, and hunched over me. “And I thought you knew better than most that everyone has secrets,” Luke shot back. “I mean, you used to live with the biggest liar of them all.”

“What?” I couldn’t fathom what he was talking about, but damned if it didn’t make an area in the region of my heart hurt. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Laney,” Gunner said, so uncharacteristically gentle that my heart hurt even worse. He folded my finger away from Luke’s chest and cupped my hand in his. “Let the man finish.”

Luke’s mouth tightened. “I guess it doesn’t mean nothin’,” he said, “except you seem to have a hankering for filling your bed with bastards.”

I started to shake as the blood left my head in a rush. I would have slapped him, but Gunner kept hold of my hand even as he made a move to grab Luke by the throat that I derailed. This prick was mine—to beat down or arrest, whichever seemed most appropriate once we got out of him the confession we were looking for.

“I guess that means you, too, huh?” I spat at Luke, knowing that I sounded not the least bit professional. But since I didn’t feel professional right now, that was fine. “But at least I cleared your sorry ass out of my sheets before you dragged me down with you. Now get over our past mistakes and fucking get to what you know about all of this.”

“Fine.” He worked his jaw around whatever was coming next. “Like I told you, I went by that night to spook Bosley’s cows. Figured if they deserted him or something, my family could get hold of his land faster.” He kicked a weed with the tip of his boot. “I was in the barn sneaking around when I heard a truck pull up.” He looked at me and hesitated, then just put it out there. “Laney, you’ve got no cause to believe me, but it was that fucker of a fiancé of yours having a very heated talk with the old man.”

“Bullshit!”

Luke shrugged. “Thought you should know before going through with that damn wedding.”

“You’re full of shit.” But something told me he wasn’t.

“Luke,” Gunner said carefully, “you’re sure it was Nathan you saw out there that night? You couldn’t have mistaken him for someone else?”

Luke sneered at him. “You think I’d say it was Nathan if it wasn’t when I know how sayin’ it could help you get close to Laney again? Not a chance. It was that turd-plucker, and that’s straight.”

Gunner nodded at him. “All I need to know.” He pulled out his handcuffs. He’d gotten as far as, “Luke Wagner, I’m placing you under arrest for obstruction—” when I spun on my heels to face the barn.

“Fuck,” I said tightly. “Fucking lying bastard!”

It would have been nice to know for sure which one of them I meant.

To hell with all of them. They could all just kiss my ass.

Luke because he was the lying, sneaking, low-down, dirty prick who’d comforted me after Gunner left, and who I’d always wanted to believe—and believe in.

Gunner because he was…well, Gunner. He was the charming, lying cheat who’d broken my heart. He’d also called what Luke told us ‘all he needed to hear’—which left me convinced he’d known where all of this was headed before he set foot back in Pistol Rock. By trying to protect me from the inevitable, he’d left me to swing in the breeze without respect for my position as a deputy sheriff or the fact that I was now a fully grown woman who’d been handling her own mistakes since he’d left. That made him worse than Luke any day because I’d expected more of him, both as a fellow cop and as the man who’d known me best.

And Nathan…Nathan had a lot of questions to answer, and I hoped he gave me the right ones and made me believe them, or he was going to end up the sorriest asshole of the bunch.

Purposefully, I strode toward the barn to confront the dirt bag I was still engaged to—and slammed directly into him.

“Shit!” I jumped back, reaching behind my back to where my gun wasn’t because it was in my purse.

“There you are.” Nathan smiled. He looked me over, then took my hand and tugged me to his side. “I was beginning to think Luke had run away with you.”

“He’s not that smart.” No, that was a lie. He was smart enough to run me in circles while he tried to stick a wedge in my relationship with Nathan. But that chasm was already wide enough to fit Mexico into, and it didn’t look to be closing any time soon. I tried to suck up the fact that Luke had no reason I knew of to lie about seeing Nathan out at Arrowhead Range the night of Pacey Monroe’s murder. To understand that the man I’d agreed to marry a week from today might well be a murderer.