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Six-Gun Investigation Page 8
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Richie ducked his head. “I forgot, until you asked me.”
So someone could have sneaked into the inn while Richie was fetching Sarah’s sandwich. But what about the time difference?
“Richie, how long were you gone?”
“Not long.”
“Come on, Richie. You’re not going to get into trouble. You might have seen the murderer.”
His self-conscious manner changed to excitement. “Seriously?”
She nodded gravely.
“Well, I did eat a couple of doughnuts and drink a big glass of iced tea while I waited for her sandwich. I got back here about six-thirty and took the sandwich to her room. She was fine then. I swear!”
“I believe you. Did you see anyone? Anyone at all?”
Richie shook his head. “You think whoever killed her was hiding in the hotel? You think they sneaked in while I was getting the sandwich? Oh, man!”
“Richie, what else?”
“By the time I gave her the sandwich, I had to pee. But that only took a couple minutes.” He stopped fiddling with the ear buds. “I might have seen Rosa.”
Anna’s pulse sped up. “Rosa Ramirez? Did you tell anyone?”
“I just now remembered it. I came out of the john and somebody was leaving through the back door.”
“How did you know it was Rosa?”
“The hair. Her hair’s black and she pulls it back real tight.”
“What did she have on?”
“I’m not sure. Probably something black, like usual.”
“Could you tell where she’d come from?”
He shook his head. “She was in a heck of a hurry. I barely saw her.”
“But you’re sure it was Rosa. So who made the sandwich for you at the diner? Not Rosa.”
He shook his head. “New girl. Kinda hot, if she wasn’t so skinny.”
“So you didn’t see Rosa in the diner?”
“Nah.”
“But how did she get out through that door? Isn’t it locked?”
“It’s like—a fire door, dude, I mean, ma’am.”
Which meant that anyone could open it from the inside.
“Ms. Uh—ma’am? Do you think Rosa killed that lady?”
Anna shook her head. “No, I’m not sure the time fits. It’s possible she might have seen someone.”
She smiled sweetly. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help.”
As she spoke, the lobby doors opened and Zane marched in. A pleasurable tingling at the base of her spine surprised her. It wasn’t desire. It couldn’t be. Zane McKinney hated her. To him, she was merely a job, and not a pleasant one, either. Anna figured he saw her mother every time he looked at her.
She brushed aside the regret that notion planted inside her and watched him walk across the lobby.
His broad straight shoulders telegraphed his confidence, his gray-blue eyes were clear and honest, and his straight mouth and strong jaw exuded determination. She’d hate to be a criminal pursued by this Texas Ranger. She wouldn’t stand a chance.
Zane glanced at Richie. As soon as the kid stuffed his ear buds back into his ear and slouched against the counter, he stepped close to her and bent his head.
“I told you to wait for me. Where the hell have you been?”
“Wait until you hear what I found out from Richie.”
His eyes turned stormy. “We’ve got to establish some ground rules here. Number one, you do as I say. And number two, you answer my questions.”
Anna propped her fists on her hips. “How about number one, you explain rather than command?”
“How ’bout you tell me where you disappeared to.”
“I went shopping.”
“Shopping?” Zane’s voice rang with exasperation. “Where? How’d you get there? I told you to wait for me. I told you I’d take you.”
“Your mother drove me.” She watched the wind go out of his sails.
“Mom?” Shock tinged his voice. “My mom? How did that happen?”
“She came to the police station to see you, and before I knew it she’d whisked me off to the clothing store.”
He smiled grimly at Anna’s choice of words. “That sounds like Mom. She’s good at manipulating people, but—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “So you had a nice shopping trip with my mother. Can we get back to business? Because I’m ready to hear everything— and I mean everything—you know about what Sarah had for you.”
Anna looked beyond him and saw Richie slip the ear buds out of his ears. A man she didn’t recognize was descending the stairs. She leaned closer to Zane. “Do you really want to have this conversation here?”
He sent a quick glance around. “No, I don’t. Are you hungry?”
“Am I what?” He’d surprised her. But she realized she was hungry. Very. She hadn’t eaten anything since noon the day before. No wonder the coffee at the police station had turned her stomach.
He must have seen her answer in her eyes, because he put his hand at the curve of her back. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat and you can tell me all about Richie’s exciting revelation.”
AFTER THEY’D BOTH cleaned up a bit, Zane drove them to Calhoun City, to a place called Monte’s. Anna recounted for him what Richie had told her.
He was beginning to get used to the way her face lit up when she was excited or interested in something. Tonight she’d worn her hair down. It fell, sleek and shiny, just to her shoulders. He still couldn’t see any makeup, but her eyes sparkled like emeralds and her cheeks were pink. She practically glowed.
He’d already noticed her outfit. How could he not? She had on some kind of swirly skirt that left her legs bare. Her arms were bare, too, in a bright pink top that hinted at the delicate shadow between her breasts, and she carried a little sweater thing.
She looked flirty and elegant at the same time. He picked up his wineglass and saluted her. “So, is that one of the outfits you bought today?”
“Yes. You confiscated all the clothing I brought with me.” She smiled.
He sent her a brief smile. “None of your clothes look like that. I mean—you look nice.”
Her cheeks heated up and she looked down at her water glass.
Zane watched her slender finger with its unpainted nail slide around the glass’s rim, and wondered why she was hesitating.
She glanced up at him through her lashes, then looked back at her finger. “It was sweet of your mom to take me shopping.”
Zane didn’t speak. But he did wonder how long Stella McKinney had held her own with the woman sitting across from him.
“Your mother is very bitter.”
“Ya think? That’s old news. Who can blame her, after what my father put her through.”
“She told me about your half brother. The son your father had with another woman.”
“That’s old news, too,” he said gruffly. “Although I’m surprised she told you. She never talks about Cole.”
“Zane, your mother said she wanted to kill your dad.”
A very old wound opened painfully inside him. “I know. She says things like that. Sometimes she gets overwhelmed by it all.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought you ought to know.” The look she gave him was filled with pity. He bristled.
“Yeah, well, now I do.” He swallowed and put a lot of effort into toning down the edge in his voice.
“Listen to me, Annie, I’m glad Mom took you shopping, but you can’t be running around like that. I’ve got to know that you’re safe, every minute. You have to promise me you won’t go anywhere—and I mean anywhere—without notifying me.”
Her delicate brows lifted. “Does that just apply to leaving the hotel? Or should I inform you each time I go to the bathroom?” She took a sip of wine, never taking her eyes off his face.
He was sure the greenish sparkle he saw was amuse ment. “This whole investigation would go a lot faster if you’d stop being so difficult.”
Anna set her wineglass down. “Difficult? Okay.
I’ll stop being difficult if you’ll involve me. Let me in on the investigation. I’m good at getting information from people. Look what I got from Richie that Deputy Spinoza missed.”
Zane nodded reluctantly. “That was impressive. But how was he so sure it was Rosa he saw?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question. He kept talking about her hair. How it was black and, as he put it, all slicked back.”
“Easy to imitate. It could have been a wig, or even a black watch cap.”
“We’ll have to question Rosa.”
We. Zane suppressed a grimace. No way was he letting Anna in on the investigation into her sister’s murder. He couldn’t afford to put her in more danger. Plus there was still that niggling certainty that she was hiding something from him. Something vital to the case. He couldn’t be absolutely sure that she would tell him everything she learned. He had no doubt she would check out every tidbit herself first.
But he’d already ruffled her feathers by calling her difficult. He certainly wasn’t going to mention that he considered her less than trustworthy.
Leaning back in his chair, he crumpled his linen napkin and set it beside his plate. “Deputy Spinoza took Rosa’s statement today. I’ll check on what she says she was doing. Are you ready to go? I’ve still got a bunch of paperwork to finish.”
“Sure. This was a wonderful dinner. How did such a great restaurant wind up out here?”
“It’s for the locals. Monte Gates grew up in Calhoun City.”
“And he doesn’t care that he could be making millions in Dallas?”
“Some people would rather stick close to their roots.”
“At least some people have roots.”
Zane heard the longing and regret in her voice. Oddly, just like when he’d questioned her last night, he felt a kinship with her. He knew how she felt, although his situation was vastly different. She’d lost her family—tragically. He had a family, he just didn’t feel like a part of it.
As they walked out of the restaurant, Zane slipped his arm around her waist, sensing that she could use some comfort, denying that he might be seeking comfort for his own loneliness.
The ride back to Justice was quiet and pleasant. About halfway it started to rain, one of those slow sprinkles that could last all night.
Zane felt more relaxed than he could remember being in a long time. The constant dull ache in his temples was gone. His shoulders and back weren’t so stiff. And he’d actually enjoyed his meal. When was the last time he’d actually savored good food with an attractive and interesting companion? He sent a sidelong glance toward Anna and found her watching him.
When their eyes met, she looked down at her hands, a tiny smile lighting her face. “It’s raining,” she said.
“Yeah. Maybe it’ll cool things off.” His mouth quirked as he turned his attention back to the road. He wasn’t sure what either of them had to smile about, but it felt good.
At the inn, he walked her up to her room.
“Here you go. I’ll wait until I hear your dead bolt before I leave.”
Anna unlocked the door then turned toward him. Her smile nearly took his breath away.
“Thank you, Zane. That was just what I needed. It was good to relax for a little while.”
He tore his gaze from her mouth. Nodding, he gestured toward her door. “You’d better go on in. Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”
“Oh, right. Who are we interviewing tomorrow?”
Zane angled his head. “We aren’t interviewing anyone. Let me remind you, you are not involved in this investigation.”
“But you let me—”
He cut her off with a gesture. Letting her sit in with his dad had been a calculated effort to throw Jim McKinney off guard. He wasn’t about to include her in any other interviews. “No more, Annie. You’re a witness—that’s all. Besides,” he hesitated for an instant, “you have arrangements to make.”
Her smile faded. “For Sarah’s funeral.” She took a shaky breath. “Do you know when you’ll be releasing her?”
“Not yet. I’m hoping it will be sometime tomorrow. Where are you planning to—”
“Bury her? Here in Justice, next to my mother.” She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. “Sad legacy, isn’t it? Mother and daughter, both murder victims, buried side by side.”
Zane surprised himself by touching her hair. “I’ll get him, Annie. Whoever he is.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she put her hand on his forearm and leaned in, lifting her head to press a kiss to his cheek.
His skin burned where her soft warm lips touched. He took a step backward. “Lock your door. I’ll wait.”
“Aren’t you going to bed?”
“Like I told you, I’ve got paperwork to catch up on. I’m going to the police station.”
She nodded and stepped into her room. “Thanks again for the evening. Good night.”
Zane stood there until he heard the metallic click of the dead bolt. He glanced at the door to his room, next to hers. But as tired as he was, he’d told Anna the truth. His paperwork was piling up. He should have spent this evening going over statements and the deputies’ reports from the crime scenes instead of indulging in a relaxing dinner with a beautiful companion.
He reached out and touched Anna’s door, then stalked down the hall to the staircase, checking his watch. After eleven.
Was it too late to call Sloan? Before he finished the thought he’d already answered his own question.
He didn’t care. He needed to find the records from Lou Ann’s murder and the disappearance of Donna’s child. And as Carley had said, Sloan would know where they were.
He dialed his brother’s cell phone as he headed back to the sheriff’s office. By the time Sloan answered, Zane was sitting in Carley’s desk chair and staring out the rain-streaked window at the dark parking lot behind the inn.
“McKinney,” his brother growled.
“Don’t tell me you’re asleep.”
“Damn close. What the hell do you want?”
Zane grinned. Sloan had never liked to be woken up. It had been one of the delights of Zane’s life to pounce on his younger brother’s bed first thing in the morning, just to hear him squeal. “Well, it seems to me that if you’ve got time to go to bed early, you should have time to get over here and help me with this case.”
“Not for a few more days,” Sloan said on a yawn. Zane heard fabric rustle as Sloan sat up. “You caught me asleep because this is the first chance I’ve had in two days.”
“My heart bleeds.”
Sloan huffed. “Did you call for some particular reason or just to harass me?”
“Where are the case files relating to LouAnn Wallace’s murder and Justin Hendricks’s disappearance?”
“Have you got something?” Sloan’s voice turned razor-sharp.
“Not yet, but the deeper I get into this, the more obvious it is that Sarah Wallace’s murder is connected with her mother’s murder sixteen years ago.”
“All those records were gathering dust, and mice were beginning to nest in some of the boxes, so I pulled them and sent them to Dallas, to the Archives.”
“Great. I’ll request them. Listen, Squirt, get your butt over here as soon as you can. I can’t relate to these people the way you can.”
“Maybe if you’d shed that poker you’ve got stuck up your—”
“Nice talking to you, too. I’ll call you later.”
Zane disconnected and leaned back in the desk chair. He’d cut Sloan off, but he’d gotten the gist of his comment. He cursed quietly.
He would never be an easygoing, hand-shaking hometown boy. He was too stiff, too by-the-book for such a small town. Sloan, on the other hand, had the people of Justice wrapped around his finger.
Zane just hoped his brother could make the towns-folk open up, because he sure couldn’t.
ANNA TOSSED HER PURSE and the little beaded sweater onto the bed
and kicked off the low-heeled sandals Mrs. McKinney had helped her pick out.
She flopped onto the bed without turning on the lights and scrunched a pillow up under her head. She couldn’t believe she’d kissed him. She grabbed another pillow and covered her face. If he hadn’t already been convinced that she was a younger, flakier version of her sister, he surely was now.
“Why did I do that?” Her question echoed in the room. She had no idea, except that the thought of burying her sister—the last of her family—had blanketed her with a profound sadness. And Zane had been so kind, so sweet, comforting her.
That was it. She’d just responded spontaneously to an act of kindness. It didn’t mean anything.
Then why was his scent lingering in her nostrils, reminding her of how close he’d stood to her nearly naked body last night? Why was the newly shaved smoothness of his cheek still tingling on her lips?
“Argh!” She tossed the pillow aside and got up. She didn’t even like Zane McKinney, and he certainly didn’t like her. In fact, given the way he felt about her mother, it must have been hard as hell for him to be nice to her for a whole evening.
Although he had seemed a lot more laid-back than she’d seen him so far. From the first time he’d spoken to her in Sarah’s room, she’d gotten one overarching impression of him. From his focused, methodical questions, to his demeanor, to the way he carried himself, he exuded control. Until tonight. Tonight he’d seemed at ease. In different circumstances, they might have been on a date.
Only the circumstances weren’t different, and he’d probably rather shoot himself than go out with her. She pressed her palms against her temples to stop the argument that rattled in her head.
The clock on the bedside table read eleven-thirty. She was exhausted, but she knew she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. She got up to change into the camisole pj’s she’d bought this afternoon.
Instead, she found herself reaching for a pair of jeans. She wasn’t really going to leave the hotel. All she was going to do was see if the diner was still open. It was nearly midnight, so it was doubtful. Still, she’d like to have a cup of hot chocolate. And if she was lucky, she might run into Rosa Ramirez.
She grabbed her purse and slipped downstairs. A young woman she didn’t know was working the registration desk. Richie must be off tonight. The girl was slouched on the stool, eyes glued to a small TV on a shelf behind the desk.