Steve and Ronan look out for it.
Your deputies have more important things to do. Besides, the storm was a bitch, and the driver probably didn't even see me. Yet she remembered the sound of laughter and wondered if that was true.
He would have felt the bump as the truck hit you. He didn't hit me that hard, so I doubt it. She hesitated.
Have Mom and Dad been in to see you yet? Yeah, and dad's furious. He didn't say anything, but I think he knows you were up at the mansion. I'd avoid him for the next couple of days and give him a chance to cool down.
That would take weeks, not days. She rubbed a hand across her eyes and turned tail, heading into the bathroom to grab some painkillers. After she'd taken them, she told her sister everything she'd learned over the last couple of days. It didn't take long, because she hadn't really learned that much.
I'll send Ronan over to Betise's place. I wish the damn fool had reported the attack immediately. We might have been able to pull some connecting evidence off her gown. She hesitated. If you're right about lovers being the targets, we'll have to convince the brothers to give us a list and arrange protection.
I suspect that's now being handled within the pack. Probably. And just so you know, we've got a warrant to search the Sinclair mansion, and we'll be requesting hair samples from everyone who's there. You'd better make sure you stay away tonight and tomorrow. I can tell you now it wasn't Rene behind the last attack, and it certainly wasn't Duncan.
I'm not saying it's one of Zeke's get.
No, she wasn't. But she wasn't really considering anyone else, either, and Neva had a suspicion they were all playing into the murderer's game-plan, whatever that plan was.
Give me a reason to suspect someone else and I will, Savannah chided. Right now, I can only work with what I've got.
She could remember a time when Savannah had worked with nothing more than guesswork and intuition. But all that had changed after she'd come home from an extended break five years ago. Neva wondered again what exactly had happened to so completely change her sister's method of policing, but now was not the time to ask. I hope you're not planning to be up at the mansion running the whole shebang.
Savannah's mental snort was derisive. Goddamn doctors won't let me get out of bed. Threatened to tie me down if I tried to leave. I should have the lot of them thrown in jail and see how they like being confined. Neva grinned, though she could easily imagine her sister following through with her threat.
You need to rest, Sav. Push it in a couple of days, when you're feeling stronger.
Savannah sighed. I guess you're the one person I can't lie to.
Exactly. If I uncover any other information, I'll tell you. In the meantime, catch some sleep. And make sure Steve checks who's coming in and out of the room rather than flirting with that pretty young nurse.
How did you know it was Steve at the door? Elementary, my dear. You said you'd send Ronan out to
Betise's. Bodee is usually home by now looking after the kids, and you can't stand Ike. That leaves
Steve. Ike's got the midnight shift, Savannah grumbled. I told the nurse if he so much as twitches my way, she's to beat him over the head.
Neva's grin grew. It was a well-known fact that Ike had been lusting after her sister ever since his transfer to Ripple Creek. He was nice, in a boring sort of way, and just the sort of man their parents would approve of. Savannah's method of dealing with his lust was to simply ignore it, but all that seemed to have done was inflame his determination.
I have no intention of ever again mixing business with pleasure, Savannah said. And no, I'm not going to explain that statement right now.
Damn.
The warmth of her sister's smile spun through her. Remember, don't go near the mansion tonight. I'll talk to you later.
Don't let the bedbugs bite. Or Ike, as the case may be. Savannah made the mental equivalent of a rude gesture and closed down the link. Still grinning, Neva made her way down the stairs.
Duncan looked around as she entered, and she noted his shutters were back in place. Odd. For some reason, she'd half expected to see them gone. What on earth had happened between them last night?
What couldn't she remember that she should remember?
'Hope you like pumpkin risotto.' His voice was neutral, almost careful, but his gaze swept down her body--a heated touch that wasn't, and one that left her tingling all over.
'Never tried it.' She walked over to the drawer to grab some cutlery to set the table. The silk of her gown caressed her skin as enticingly as a kiss, and suddenly she was all too aware of the amount of flesh she was exposing as she walked and that she wore nothing beneath it. His quick intake of breath suggested he was just as aware of that fact. 'Then you haven't lived.' No, she hadn't. Not until she'd stepped into his world and had been forced to acknowledge the wolf within. A wolf she no longer wanted to keep fully leashed. Not when he was around, anyway.
She set the table then walked over to the refrigerator. 'You have the fine choice of soda, homemade lemonade or water.'
'I'll chance the lemonade.'
'A wise choice. The soda's open and probably flat.' She poured them both a drink then sat down as he brought over the two bowls of creamy rice. She picked up her fork and tasted a bit. 'Hmmm,' she murmur ed appreciably. 'Delicious. Where'd you learn to cook like this?' He shrugged. 'I got bored cooking steak and eggs every night for dinner, so I bought myself some cookbooks.'
'What, no scrumptious little wolf hanging around to cook for you?'
He studied her for a moment, expression totally unreadable. 'Occasionally,' he said after a moment.
'But mostly I was alone.'
She picked up her glass and took a sip as she considered him. His mood was restrained, subdued almost, and yet there was an undercurrent she couldn't quite pin down. And like her, he had his shields fully up, which was really no surprise, given what she'd done to him earlier.
Speaking of which… 'Why did you really say those things about my parents? Especially if you knew they had no bearing on the case?'
'I still don't know if your mother's past has any bearing on this case. I suspect it might, though I don't think your mother is actually involved.'
That wasn't exactly the answer she'd been searching for. 'How would an attack on the Bitterroot
Sinclairs over thirty years ago be connected to the murders happening here now?'
'When I discover the connection, I suspect I'll discover the murderer.' He hesitated. 'How are you feeling this morning?'
She had a suspicion the question wasn't asked out of concern for her health, but rather something else.
'I've got the mother of all headaches and a sore butt, but other than that, I'm fine. Why?'
'Are you up to a little breaking and entering?' Her heart skipped then began to race. 'Where?'
'Betise's hair salon.'
Surprise flitted through her. 'Why?'
'Because I suspect she slipped some sort of sleeping tablet into your coffee this afternoon. I want to see if she left the cup lying around.'
'I put it down beside my chair, so she could have missed it.' She frowned. 'But why would she bother?
Even if she's decided she doesn't like sharing you, what point would there be in drugging me?'
'For the last time, she and I have never exchanged promises, nor did I have more than one dance with her.' His voice was tight, and anger flicked briefly behind the shutters. 'And you could have died if I hadn't found you so quickly.'
His anger burned her skin and made her throat go dry. Lord, it would be so easy to believe he actually cared. Which was ridiculous. He was a lone wolf--a man who enjoyed the dance and wanted nothing more from a relationship. 'So how did you find me?'
'I was lucky.' He pointed his fork at her barely touched meal. 'Now eat, before it gets cold.'
She ate, but could only get halfway through the huge bowl he'd given her. She pushed the rest of it away
