“Almost none.” Nash rose from the bed and settled Wyatt on the crib mattress, holding his breath. “It’s kind of like soothing a horse.”
“Not quite.”
“And you know that how, city girl?”
“He’s a baby, not a horse.”
“Thanks for that.” Nash scratched his chin. “What do you think about Brett’s story?”
“I’m going to shut this sliding door before I tell you.” She made good on her promise and yanked the drapes across the glass. “He’s full of it. Did you notice his crocodile tears over Jaycee?”
“I did. He made a quick recovery. But the story about the blackmail?” He picked up a tortilla chip left over from their dinner and crunched it between his teeth. “That’s pure Jaycee.”
“Maybe that’s why Lanier hired me and then wasn’t too upset when I told him those two characters were after Wyatt. He could’ve even figured out at that point that Wyatt was Brett’s son and washed his hands of the whole affair.”
“Until Jaycee came back at him with her videos and more demands.”
“Until then.”
“If that’s what went down, then the two cartel guys really were looking for Brett and figured Wyatt was his kid.”
“Did they find Jaycee first and try to use her to get Brett to cooperate?”
“If so, that attempt failed. Brett didn’t take the bait and they killed Jaycee.”
Emily hugged her purse to her chest. “I’m going to sleep with this right next to me in case Brett gets the bright idea to come back.”
While he wished Emily would show as much desire to sleep with him as her gun, he crouched before the little safe in the room, where he’d stowed his own weapon. “I’ve got my bedmate right here.”
Emily raised her eyebrows. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”
Placing his gun on the nightstand on the left side of the bed, he chuckled. “I guess that’s what happens when you get two cops together.”
She opened her mouth, grinned and then snapped it shut. As she unzipped her suitcase, she asked, “What do you think he wanted with Wyatt? He barely looked at him.”
“Yeah, I find it hard to believe he has any strong feelings for his son...or his son’s mother.” He stretched out on the bed and clasped his hands behind his head. “That’s a mystery, but I’m sure he’s up to no good. You take the bathroom first and I’ll put the TV on low.”
When Emily retreated to the bathroom, Nash watched images flicker across the TV, but his ears were attuned to every sound from the other room as Emily ran the water and brushed her teeth.
Brett had interrupted a moment between him and Emily that Nash had been anticipating for quite a while, but maybe Brett had provided a warning. Nash and Emily had been so into each other, they’d missed Brett breaking into the room. They had a responsibility to that little boy. They had to get him safely to DCS...and Jaycee’s relatives.
Nash kicked off his flip-flops and dragged a pillow into his lap, crushing it against his chest. He remembered Jaycee’s mother all too well. That woman had no business raising a child. And the possible fathers? Hell no. Poor kid.
Emily threw open the bathroom door, and he snapped out of his funk. She’d already witnessed one breakdown, and he wanted to exude the confidence now that he could get both her and Wyatt back to Paradiso safely.
He slapped on a grin. “Did you leave me some hot water?”
“There’s plenty.” She shook out her T-shirt as she walked to her suitcase to lay her clothes across the top. “Are you taking a shower, too?”
“This town is dusty. I feel like I’m crunching dirt between my teeth.” He swung his legs off the bed and grabbed a clean T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts from his bag.
“It is dusty, and I don’t care if it is kind of corny, I liked it...until we found out about Jaycee.”
He bunched his clothes in one hand. “It was a good day until that.”
He slipped into the bathroom, took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. When he returned to the bedroom, Emily was propped up against a pile of pillows watching a comedy.
She patted the bed beside her. “C’mon, I think we can both use a laugh right now.”
He dropped his clothes and crawled onto the bed beside her.
She scooted close to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re one of the good guys, Nash Dillon.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, they rose early and had a quick breakfast with Cora before hitting the road back to Paradiso. They left the GPS that had been on Wyatt’s car seat in the cactus garden.
Jaycee hadn’t been as ditzy as Nash thought. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. She should’ve taken care of herself as well as Wyatt.
Nash had called in their arrival time to coincide with DCS. They’d hand Wyatt over to a social worker and DCS would find him a foster family until his parentage and Jaycee’s wishes could be sorted through.
He was gonna miss the kid...and the kid’s nanny.
As they passed Boothill, Nash turned his head toward Emily. “Are you going to contact Lanier as soon as DCS has Wyatt?”
“Yes. If I’m forced to leave a text again, I’ll let him know about Jaycee—if it’s okay with the police—and that DCS has Wyatt and that he’s safe. He can figure out what he wants to do from there, but it’s all going to have to be legal and aboveboard.”
“Do you think you’ll get your final payment, or whatever he owes you?”
“At this point, I don’t care. If he turns out to be involved with the cartels, I don’t want his dirty money.” She slid her sunglasses on and tapped her fingers against her knee, her jaw a hard line.
A good reference from a client like Lanier could’ve catapulted Emily’s PI career into the stratosphere—unless he
