Six-Gun Investigation Page 10

  Jon shook his head, so Zane wrote Leland Hendricks and beside his name wrote teenager followed by a question mark.

  “What about Rosa?” he asked.

  Anna hardly remembered Rosa. She shook her head.

  “Seems like she’s always been here. She was Donna’s housekeeper for years before they opened the diner together,” Jon commented.

  Zane wrote Rosa’s name and beside it printed since Donna’s marriage to Leland. “Okay, who else?”

  Anna met his gaze, hating what she was about to do. “Your parents?”

  A shadow passed over his face. Her heart squeezed. She didn’t want to think that Zane’s father might have attacked her, but she knew he belonged on the list. And she knew Zane knew that, too.

  He turned his back on her and wrote Jim McKinney. Beside his father’s name he wrote all his life.

  “You were born here?” she asked.

  He nodded without turning around. “He and my mother met while he was with the highway patrol. She grew up around San Antonio.” Below Jim’s name he wrote Stella’s and since marriage to Jim. Then he set the chalk down and dusted his hands together. “I guess that’s the short list. Is there anyone we’ve missed?”

  “Most people in Justice grew up here. It’s that kind of town. Both Matheson and his wife, the Enises…” Jon ticked off the names on his fingers.

  “But nobody else that we know of who was closely associated with Lou Ann.”

  The doctor stood. “Well, I’ve got to get home. I’ll have my report for you tomorrow.” He turned to Anna. “Are you sure you don’t want something for pain or to help you sleep?”

  She shook her head. “Can I take this ice pack off my neck now? I’m freezing.”

  “Sure. You’re going to have some bruising, but a scarf or a turtleneck should cover it.”

  “Good idea, Jon. I don’t want anyone to know you were attacked, Annie, not even the deputies. It might come in handy to see how fast that news travels.”

  Zane stepped close and examined her neck. “Jon, given the imprint of the purse strap, what can you tell me about her attacker?”

  “Stand up.” The doctor held out his hand. Anna took it and stood. He turned her around so her back was to him.

  “She was at the door so she had to be standing on the concrete stoop. For the attacker to get a good grip, he would have been right behind her.”

  “He put his knee into my back,” Anna reminded them.

  “Then he grabbed her purse strap between his hands, giving him two strips of leather to use to strangle her, like this.”

  Jon slipped an imaginary purse strap around her neck, fisted his hands and demonstrated pulling. “I’m about the same height as Anna, so the bruise I’d leave would angle downward.”

  “The same for anyone who was her height or smaller,” Zane said. “So, are we eliminating anyone who is taller than her?”

  “Not necessarily. Someone very strong and trained in such tactics could actually pull downward to mislead.”

  “Right.” Zane gently pushed her hair out of the way and studied her neck intently. Anna felt his warm breath on her nape. “What about Lou Ann and Sarah?”

  “Sarah was prone, so all the killer had to do was roll her onto her stomach and stand over her or straddle her. You won’t get any indication of height from Sarah’s bruises.” Jon glanced apologetically at Anna.

  She shook her head. “It’s all right.”

  “I assume Lou Ann was also on the floor when she was strangled.”

  Zane let go of her hair. “Thanks, Jon. Don’t mention any of this, okay?”

  “No problem. Good night, Anna.” Evans left.

  Anna swallowed. It hurt. She coughed quietly and reached for her purse.

  “What are you doing? That’s evidence.” Zane scowled at her as he stopped her hand.

  Anna gave him an innocent look. All she wanted to do was to get inside her room so she could shiver and shake and break down without anyone knowing. “Going back to my room. I’m really tired.”

  “Are you sure you feel all right?” His expression didn’t change but his voice sounded worried.

  She sent him a shaky smile. “I’m okay. I want to thank you—”

  He planted himself directly in her path. “I’m glad you’re okay, because I want to know what the hell you were doing out there.”

  So much for a clean getaway. She sighed. “I wanted some hot chocolate, so I went down to the diner. It was closed, but I saw Rosa and Donna having an argument.”

  “You wanted hot chocolate? I waited outside your door until I heard you lock it. Why do you think I did that?”

  Anna swallowed and bit her lower lip.

  “Because I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were safe in your room.”

  “I talked to Rosa.”

  Zane threw his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. “You let yourself be trapped in an unfamiliar place with a murder suspect?”

  “Listen to what I found out. She lied about being in the lobby Sunday night.”

  “You expected her to own up to it?”

  “The fact that she lied implicates her in Sarah’s murder.”

  “Everybody lies, Annie.”

  The lift of his brow told her he included her.

  “So you went to the diner. How did you end up being attacked behind the inn?”

  She clutched his forearm. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Rosa said she was working in the office in the back, behind the counter. It occurred to me that there was probably a fire door in the back of the diner, like the one at the back door of the inn. It would be easy as pie for someone to sneak out of the diner, into the inn and back out.”

  The lines between Zane’s brows smoothed out. His expression turned thoughtful. “The fire door locks from the outside.”

  Anna grinned at him, even though it hurt her neck. “That’s right. But if you’re clever—” She dug in her jeans’ pocket. Hadn’t she picked up more than one matchbook? Her fingers finally closed around it. She held it up triumphantly.

  “I went through the lobby of the inn and out through the fire door. Then I slipped this between the latch and the striker plate and voilà, I had free access to the inn from outside.”

  Zane folded his arms and stared down at her.

  She cleared her throat. “Then I walked across to the back of the diner. Sure enough, there was a door.”

  “So you strolled around in the dark in the middle of the night with a murderer on the loose. And before you could get back inside to safety, you were attacked.”

  “Something like that,” she muttered.

  Zane’s breath whooshed out in an exasperated sigh. He thrust his fingers through his hair and paced back and forth for a few seconds before stopping directly in front of her.

  “Do you understand that you nearly died out there?”

  “But, Zane—”

  He grabbed her upper arms. “No! Don’t say another word. How am I supposed to conduct my investigation when I have to spend all my time worrying about you?”

  His face was mere inches from hers, his blue eyes smoky and intense. His hold on her arms loosened and his thumbs skimmed her sensitized skin as his gaze slid down her jawline to her neck.

  “You don’t—” She started, but her voice was swallowed up by the pounding of her heart. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  He touched her neck with a surprisingly gentle fingertip. “Look at this. Of course I have to worry. If something happened to you I’d—”

  Anna raised her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes lingered on her lips as his fingers slid around the back of her neck.

  She melted inside, overwhelmed by his gentle touch, his quiet, caring words, the naked yearning in his eyes.

  Reality tried to break the spell his tenderness had cast. Not him, her brain scolded. Not Zane McKinney.

  His father had killed her mother. She had every reason to hate him and no reason at all to trust him. She pulled a
way from his hypnotic touch.

  “I’d better get back to my room,” she said hoarsely.

  “No.”

  The spell was definitely broken. Zane straightened and stepped backward. “You’re not going anywhere. I obviously can’t trust you out of my sight, so you’re sleeping here.”

  “Here? How does that help anything? My room is not fifty paces from here, and it has a bed and a bath. Plus your room is right next door.”

  “Forget that. I want you where I can see you.”

  “No. That’s out of the question. Look at me. I’m covered with dust. My clothes are ruined. I need a shower.”

  “You can clean up in the bathroom here.”

  “And where am I going to sleep, in the jail?”

  Zane’s mouth twitched. “The thought crossed my mind, but you’d probably be more comfortable on the couch in the break room.” He shrugged. “Besides, unlike the inn, the front and back doors of the police station have double dead bolts. The only way anyone can get in or out is with a key.”

  “This is outrageous. Who can I complain to about your harassment of me?”

  “That would be me. I’m in charge of this investigation, which means I’m in charge of everything.”

  Anna considered her options. She could make a break for it, but undoubtedly Zane would overpower her. She could call somebody and complain, but Zane was right about that, too. Who other than him was there to call? Besides, she was still terrified by her attack. She wasn’t sure she could stay alone tonight.

  And the idea of Zane watching over her while she slept was irresistible.

  Chapter Seven

  Zane got Anna settled in on the couch. There were a couple of blankets in the supply closet and a pillow that had definitely seen better days.

  “Are we going to do this every night?” she asked, her voice soft and husky with sleep.

  He smiled. “If we have to.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about what Dr. Evans said about the rats and snakes and roaches.” She shivered.

  “They’re better than the human vermin who’re after you.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?”

  “I’ll stretch out on the cot in the holding cell. If you need anything, call.”

  Anna pulled the blankets up to her chin. Her eyelids were drooping with exhaustion. “Thank you, Zane.”

  “No problem.”

  He turned out the light, leaving only the red and blue lights from the soft drink machine. They cast an ethereal glow on Anna’s dark hair and outlined her delicate features in rainbow hues. She glimmered like an angel.

  Zane shook his head at his fanciful thoughts. “The lights going to bother you?”

  She shook her head. “I like them. They remind me of my room in Las Vegas. The casino lights shone in our window all night long….” Her voice trailed off.

  Zane stood there for a few minutes watching her. She fell asleep immediately, her breathing soft and even in the silence. In the dim light with the blankets covering her, he couldn’t see the marks on her neck. But he knew they were there, and knowing that brought him as close to losing control as he’d ever been.

  He wanted to go out and drag in every single person who might have hurt her and beat the truth out of them. Immediately, he suppressed his irrational thoughts.

  Thinking like that wasn’t going to help him catch the killer. Neither was becoming emotionally attached to Anna. Hell, her mother destroyed his family.

  She’s nothing like her mother. The thought whispered through his brain, mocking his self-described professional detachment.

  Resisting the impulse to smooth a wayward strand of hair out of her face, he turned on his heel and stalked down the hall to the holding cell and lay down on the lumpy cot. He bunched up the worn-out pillow and stuck it under his head.

  The fact that he hadn’t been able to catch Anna’s attacker galled him. Could he have caught him if he’d chased him into the woods? If he hadn’t turned back to check on Anna?

  He thought about the tangle of brush, vines and trees, thinking about what Jon had said about the bluffs and outcroppings back there.

  If the attacker had a hiding place in that wild overgrown area, it was going to be hard as hell to find him.

  There was only one thing he could do. Zane cursed under his breath. He had no choice. He needed the best tracker in Texas, and that was Sergeant Cole McKinney of the Texas Rangers. The bastard son of his father, Jim McKinney. Zane punched the pillow again and turned on his side, but his mind still raced. Acutely conscious of Annie asleep just a few feet down the hall, he resolutely closed his eyes. Finally, he drifted off to sleep.

  ZANE WOKE UP to a loud banging on the front door.

  Annie! He vaulted off the cot and rushed up the hall to the break room.

  Anna was just stirring. She pushed her tangled hair out of her face. She looked at him, her green eyes soft and heavy-lidded with sleep. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s at the door.”

  She jumped up. “I’ll get the blankets folded.”

  Zane nodded and headed toward the front door, bemused by his instinctive reaction, and by hers. Why were they both intent on hiding the fact that they’d slept together in the police station?

  Because this is a small town, he answered himself. It didn’t matter if he’d locked himself in the jail cell and she’d locked herself in the bathroom, people would still talk.

  He opened the door. It was Jon.

  “Morning, Zane.”

  Zane squinted at the doctor in the early morning sunlight. “Morning,” he said gruffly.

  Jon laughed. “I guess I woke you up. I brought you something.” He handed Zane a paper bag. “Celia sent Anna a couple of scarves.”

  Zane took the bag. “Thanks, Jon. You’re a good friend. Tell your wife how much I appreciate this.”

  “All part of the job. Well, I’ve got early clinic hours today. I’d better get going.”

  “Jon—”

  “I know. Nothing about the attack. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Maybe if we’re lucky, the killer will come in to be treated for scratches and poison ivy.”

  Zane laughed. “That would help. Thanks again, Jon.”

  He closed the door and went back to the break room. Anna wasn’t there, but he heard water running in the bathroom. He set the sack down on the break table and stepped across the hall to Carley’s office, checking his watch. It was early, but state offices opened early.

  He flipped through Carley’s Rolodex until he came to the number for the State Department of Archives and History. After quickly keying the number into his cell phone, he pressed CALL.

  Within a few minutes, and helped by a judicious mention of his position and his captain’s name, he’d arranged to have the case files for Lou Ann Wallace Hendricks and Justin Hendricks pulled.

  “We can overnight them to you,” the receptionist said.

  “That’s not fast enough. I’ll send a deputy to pick them up this morning.”

  Back in the break room, he found Anna finger-combing her hair and yawning.

  “How’s your neck this morning?”

  She lifted her chin. “It looks awful. I didn’t realize it was so bruised.”

  Neither had Zane. The sight of the blue and purple double stripes across her delicate skin sent fury burning through him.

  He picked up the sack. “That was Jon at the door. His wife sent you this.”

  Anna took it and looked inside. “Scarves.” She smiled up at him. “Dr. Evans is a good man.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  She pulled out a pastel square with shades of blue and green and lavender and a red oblong scarf. Then she looked down at her pink T-shirt. “Well, the blue and lavender one matches my bruises.”

  She folded the pastel scarf and knotted it around her neck. “Is everything covered?”

  Zane stepped up close to her and touched the scarf, spreading the edges to conceal the array of blue and purple marks on her
neck. Her scent affected him like pheromones. Just being close to her, just taking in her essence, turned him on with an intensity that he’d never felt with any of the women he’d dated.

  He stopped fiddling with her scarf and slid his fingers up along her jaw. She turned her head toward him, her lips moist, her breathing shallow.

  Zane skimmed his mouth across hers, as softly as a butterfly’s wings, and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. She looked up at him, then her gaze drifted downward, to his mouth.

  He responded, his need immediate and fully rigid. How long had it been since a woman’s warm breath and the lightest touch of her lips had caused him to burn and harden like a randy teenager?

  With no thought other than the exquisite anticipation of tasting her, he covered her mouth with his and cradled her head in both hands. She responded, fisting her hand in his T-shirt and reaching up to kiss him back.

  He probed with his tongue, urging her to take him in. She accepted his deeper kiss and their tongues met.

  Zane felt as if fireworks were exploding inside him. His entire body was aflame with desire, and if he could judge by the supple melting of her body against his, she felt the same way.

  When both of them were breathless and he was aching with unslaked need, he pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against hers.

  “Annie,” he whispered.

  She closed her eyes and lifted her head until her nose rubbed against his. “Zane, I—”

  “Well, well! Lookee what I found.”

  Zane jerked and stepped backward, dismay flooding through him.

  Damn it. It was Burns. As much as Burns resented him, he could just imagine what the deputy would do with this little discovery.

  Anna smiled, although her cheeks were bright pink. “Good morning, Deputy. Lieutenant McKinney was just showing me how my sister was strangled.”

  Burns’s eyes glittered as he took in Anna’s tangled hair and wrinkled jeans. Zane wanted to wipe the leering grin off his face.

  “Is that so? As I recall,” Burns drawled, “the evidence placed the attacker behind the victim.”

  To her credit Anna didn’t lose her cool. She took a step backward. “He was pointing out the difference in height of Sarah and the person who attacked her.”