A Most Shocking Revelation (14 page)

The shrill ring of the phone thrust Gavin into reality and away from her. Yet he still kept one hand on her arm as he rolled over and snatched up the receiver from the nightstand. For some illogical reason he worried that if he let her out of his sight even for a few moments, he might never see her again.

He barked out an irritable, “What?” on the heels of his frustration.

“Sorry to bother you, Sheriff, but this is Bill Rhodes down at the garage. I have something you need to take a look at. It has to do with the waitress's car. I found it when I put it up on the rack.”

Gavin shot a look at Val, who was inspecting his overhead fan, her eyes still clouded with sleep. “Is it bad?”

“Oh, yeah, you could say that. That's why you need to get down here ASAP.”

So much for staying in bed all day. “It can't wait until tomorrow?”

“No, it can't. And I don't think it's a good idea to discuss it on the phone.”

None of this made much sense, but Bill Rhodes wasn't the type to make that kind of a request unless it was serious. “Give me ten minutes.” He hung up the phone, deciding that it would be best to check out the problem first, before he let Val in on it.
Considering the way she looked right now—totally content for the first time since he'd known her—he decided it could wait.

“I've got to go,” he said as he pushed off the bed. “Some business I need to take care of.”

She sat up, hugging the covers to her like a security blanket. “What about our talk, Gavin?”

He pulled a set of clean clothes from the closet. “We'll talk when I get back.”

“I promised Manny I'd work the Sunday lunch shift.”

He set his clothes aside on the bureau, rounded the bed and kissed her softly. “I shouldn't be gone that long,” he said before heading into the bathroom for a quick shower.

At least he hoped it wouldn't take long. When he returned, Gavin planned to listen to Val's confessions, let her get it off her chest—whatever
it
was—and make love to her again. And again. He would make it perfectly clear that he loved her and he wanted to be with her permanently. Nothing she could do or say would ever change that. Nothing.

A
s she sat in the kitchen and watched the time grow closer to her shift at the diner, Valerie decided that Gavin probably wouldn't make it back for their heart-to-heart before she had to go into work. Fate, for some unknown reason, was preventing her from finally baring her soul. But then, fate probably knew that when she did finally come clean, that could be the end of her time with the sheriff.

She tapped her foot beneath the dinette table for a few minutes before deciding she needed to prepare for the inevitable departure. Scooting the chair back, she trudged down the hall and, once inside the bedroom, pulled the boxes from the closet and her bag from beneath the bed. She opened the top drawer, removed her keepsake chest and withdrew the faded letter that she'd discovered in the small wooden chest, along with the pendant, following her grandmother's death.

Valerie pocketed both letters to show them to Gavin later and put the heart pendant around her neck. Oddly none of it seemed to matter anymore. Not in light of Gavin's declaration last night that kept playing over and over in her mind like a favorite song.

I love you, Valerie…

But would his love be enough to take them past her deception? Would he understand why she had done what she'd done? Why she had kept the truth from him? She had no choice but to find out as soon as they were together again.

On that thought, she took out her own journal to write what could be the final chapter of her life with Gavin.

In the back room of the headquarters of the Texas Cattleman's Club, Gavin was surrounded by four men who pretended to concentrate on the business at hand. But he could see the pity in their eyes and he could almost read their minds.
Poor guy. He's been suckered by a woman.
They would be right.

Regardless, decisions had to be made over what to do next. For that reason he slid the plastic bag containing the gun into the middle of the conference room table. “Bill Rhodes found this taped to the wheel well in Valerie's car. It's a thirty-eight. The serial number's been filed off, but it's a match to the gun that killed Durmorr.”

Tom leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together. “Then you're thinking Valerie killed him?”

Gavin wasn't sure what to think. But Valerie Raines in the role of murderer was unthinkable. “She could have been set up. Someone could have planted the gun.”

The whole lot of them looked skeptical, but Gavin wasn't willing to give up on her just yet. There had to be a logical explanation.

“What else do we know about her?” Mark asked.

“I had Vincente expedite a background check through the police department computers while I was at Rhodes's garage with the forensics team, just to see if anything turned up.” A report which Gavin deliberately hadn't seen yet. “Did you get it, Jake?”

“I picked it up on my way here.” Jake's uneasy demeanor as he withdrew the report from his pocket led Gavin to believe he might not want to know the content.

“Last known residence is St. Louis,” Jake began. “She was raised by her grandmother from the age of seven after being abandoned by her mother. The grandmother passed away last year. She graduated from college and she's been working on a master's degree in social work while serving as a counselor at a youth center.”

At least she'd been truthful about her grandmother, Gavin thought, even though he didn't understand why she hadn't told
him more details about her education. Of course, that would have blown her waitress cover. “What else?”

“Her mother is Carla Raines and she's currently incarcerated in a prison in Indiana serving a life sentence,” Jake continued.

Gavin swallowed hard. “On what charge?”

“Murder charges,” Jake said, confirming Gavin's suspicions. “Seems she was involved in a convenience-store robbery. The clerk was shot and killed, although they don't think she pulled the trigger. But she was definitely there.”

Dammit! Why hadn't Val told him that? Easy. He might have assumed that old adage that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree—or at least she would have thought that. With good reason, considering their conversations about his intolerance to crime. She still didn't have the right to deceive him. And with any luck, that was the end of the secrets, at least when it came to her history. “Is that it?”

Jake tugged at his tie. “No, and you're not going to like it.”

Gavin braced for the worst possible scenario. “Spill it.”

“She has a juvenile record. It's sealed, so we don't know what kind of crime she committed.”

Even though this was looking real bad for Val, Gavin still couldn't imagine her hurting anyone. But then, he obviously didn't know her at all or what she might be capable of. For several nights she'd been in his bed, in his home, all the while lying to him. Pretending to care about him. What else had she lied about?

Tom cleared his throat, a sure sign of his discomfort. “Do you have any reason to believe she had a connection with Durmorr?”

Oh, yeah, Gavin did. “She said she had a couple of run-ins with him. They also lived at the motor court at the same time.”

“Then maybe this was some sort of revenge thing,” Connor offered. “Maybe he got rough and she decided to defend herself.”

“If that had been the case, then why didn't she come forward?” Tom asked. “When we found Durmorr's body, we didn't see any sign of anyone else around.”

Now Gavin had to reveal another piece of incriminating evidence he'd discovered when he'd returned to the house to con
front her only to find she'd already left for work. “I came upon this in a box.” He fished through his jacket, pulled out the black cap etched with the initials S.L.Y.C. and tossed it next to the gun.

They all leaned over to take a look before Tom said, “That's the cap from the surveillance tape at the museum. The woman who stole the map was wearing it.”

“Borrowed the map,” Gavin said, earning a few more looks from his colleagues. “She did return it.” Now he sounded like a lovesick idiot defending his lady to the end, despite what she might have done.

“She probably made a copy,” Jake said.

“She did,” Gavin admitted. “I found it in her room. And that leads me to believe she's looking for the gold.” Motivated by greed, he'd guess, like most criminals. But was it greed or had she just grown tired of being without? It didn't matter. She'd still lied to him about it.

“We all know that Durmorr probably murdered Devlin because of that gold,” Connor added. “Which means Valerie could be involved in that, as well.”

Gavin didn't even want to think about that possibility. “Or it could be she connected with Durmorr after that.”
Still hanging on to hope, Sheriff,
their expressions seemed to say. And in a way Gavin was. He wanted this nightmare to end with the knowledge that Valerie had been set up to take a fall for the real killer, even if she had been searching for buried treasure. But he still held more evidence that could nail her to the wall.

Gavin lifted the cap for inspection. “There are a few stray hairs caught in the back clasp. I'll have them compared to the ones found on Devlin's body, at least microscopically for the time being. We'll have to get a court order to run the DNA, which shouldn't be a problem.”

“And if they prove to be hers?” Mark asked.

“Then it looks like we have our killer.” And Gavin would have to arrest the woman he had fallen in love with. As stupid as it seemed, he still loved her—or at least loved the woman he'd
thought her to be. He couldn't make himself believe the worst until he was absolutely forced to do that.

“Where is she now?” Jake asked.

Gavin checked his watch. “She's at the diner, but she should be at the house in a couple of hours. And when she gets back, I'll be waiting for her.”

 

Valerie walked into the great room to find Gavin seated in the chair, one leg crossed over the other at the ankles. By all appearances he looked relaxed, until she noticed his grave expression. Something had gone terribly wrong, and she intended to find out the details.

After tossing her purse aside, she collapsed onto the sofa and stretched her sore legs out in front of her. “Tough day, I take it.”

“You could say that.”

She heard no warmth in his tone. In fact, he sounded as cold as the ice that had recently melted from the rooftops. “Come on, Gavin. It will help if you talk to me about it.”

“I intend to.” He remained as still as stone as he said, “I know all about your mother.”

Valerie's whole being went on red alert. “I was going to tell you about her last night, but you stopped me, remember?”

“You should have told me a long time ago,” he said. “I had a right to know.”

The familiar shame tried to take over, but this time she refused to let it. “Actually it was my decision if and when to tell you. I wanted you to know after—”
I fell in love with you
“—we'd become close. I've learned it's not something you readily share with people, especially people who might not understand.”

He released a cynical laugh. “Guess you're going to tell me I didn't have a right to know about your criminal record either, even though I opened my house to you.”

Now she was angry. “Mind telling me why you suddenly decided to investigate my background?”

“First, another question. Do you own a gun?”

That caused her to straighten in her seat. “No. I hate guns. Why?”

He put his boots flat on the floor, then leaned forward, forearms draped on his knees, hands fisted together. “Then would you mind telling me why Rhodes found one taped underneath your car? Specifically the gun that murdered Malcolm Durmorr.”

She simply stared at him a few moments until the shock settled some. “I have no idea why it's there, but I assure you I didn't put it there.”

“But you did know Durmorr.” He didn't bother to disguise the suspicion in his tone.

“I barely knew him,” she said. “And if you think I killed him because he came on to me, you have totally lost your mind.”

“Maybe so, but you should be able to understand why I might have my doubts.”

“I see. We're back to once a criminal, always a criminal. Would you like to know what I did in my youth, Sheriff?”

He sat back and assumed an almost insolent posture. “Yeah. Enlighten me.”

After coming to her feet, Valerie crossed the small space and stared down on him. “First of all, let me ask you a question. Have you ever had to listen to kids on the playground call your mother a jailbird?”

“No.”

“Of course not. You had perfect parents who loved you and cared for you. Which leads to another question. Have you ever done without any necessities? Food? Clothes? Heat?”

His gaze faltered. “Not that I recall.”

Tears burned hot behind her eyes, but she willed them away. “Then you don't know what it's like to be hungry or cold or not have enough money to buy the simple things. But I know that all too well.”

“I'm really sorry about that, Val,” he said without even a hint of true understanding. “But being poor doesn't give you a right to commit a crime.”

“Spoken like a man who's never wanted for anything,” she said through gritted teeth. “And for your information, I was fifteen years old when I was charged with shoplifting a coat. Not
for me, for my grandmother. She was recovering from pneumonia and it was so cold, outside and inside our ratty apartment.
She
was cold. I went into a department store, grabbed a coat off the rack and tried to wear it out.”

The memories came back then, pelting her like a hailstorm, as hard and unforgiving as Gavin's expression. “I'd never shopped anywhere but in thrift stores, so I didn't know about sensors. I got caught. They cuffed me and put me in a patrol car. I got charged with a crime and my grandmother still didn't have a decent coat. Pretty ironic, huh?”

Gavin rubbed his forehead but didn't say a word.

“So there you have it, Sheriff,” she continued. “I was a teenage thief, but I've done nothing—
nothing
—but walk the straight and narrow since then. A lot of good that's done me.”

Gavin sat in silence for a few moments, his gaze focused on the window, before he finally looked at her again. “Are you sure you haven't committed any more crimes?”

Damn his indifference. “I definitely did not kill Malcolm Durmorr, whether you choose to believe that or not.”