A Match Made in Texas (16 page)

“If I tell you to hit the floor,” he whispered in her ear, “you hit the floor. You understand?”

Her heart seized up, and she nodded. She glanced down to see Dusty unhooking the safety on his holster. His mouth was still next to her ear, his breathing much less accelerated than her own. The only way she could read his tension was the tightening of his fingers on the back of her neck as the man walked past them.

“Sheriff, can I get you any dessert?” The waitress walked up. “Or are you takin’ your baby sister home for that?”

Dusty released Bri and swiveled his head to watch the man disappear inside the bathroom before he spoke. “I want you to get back in the kitchen with the rest of the staff, Sue.” When she didn’t move, he got to his feet and added, “now.” That was all it took to get the waitress scurrying back into the kitchen, herding the busboy in front of her.

“You wait for me in the car.” He tossed Bri the keys before he cautiously moved toward the bathroom, clearing the customers out as he went.

Bri followed the grumbling group of truck drivers into the parking lot and tried to figure out the emotions that swirled inside her. For a woman who thrived on danger, Bri wasn’t enjoying the situation. She was scared. Not for herself, but for Dusty. Which was crazy. Certainly, a lone criminal would be no match for an armed sheriff.

She had to reassess her thinking when she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the lone criminal. And in the dark, he looked twice as scary. Especially when he carried a gun and flashed a wicked smile that caused his black-as-sin eyes to glitter in the fluorescent light coming from the gas station.

He lifted the barrel of his gun and placed it next to Brianne’s temple. So firmly that she could feel her pulse throb against the cold metal.

“One squeak, Little Mouse, and your life ends here.” The words rushed over her face in a nauseating wave of tobacco- and coffee-tainted breath.

A car pulled up behind her, the tires crunching on the gravel and the headlights illuminating the man in all his scariness. In the next second, she found herself facedown on the ground with the gun pressed into the base of her skull. Something on the ground cut into her head, but she barely noticed with the adrenaline pumping through her veins. So much that it bypassed the kick of excitement and went straight to mind-numbing, breath-stealing terror. Especially when she heard the click of a hammer being pulled back.

“You lift your head from this ground for one second,” he hissed, “and your brains will be splattered from here to Mexico City.”

Long after the gun had been removed from her head, Brianne remained on the ground with her heart pounding and her face pressed against the sharp bits of gravel. In fact, she stayed that way until the car had backed up and pulled away. Only then did she lift her head and slowly climb to her wobbly legs. She was still standing there when Dusty came running around the corner with gun drawn. After checking out the back of the restaurant, he returned.

“The bastard climbed out of the bathroom window. He must’ve heard Sue call me sheriff.” He came over and took the keys that she still clutched in her hand, his gaze darting around the dark shadows. “Did you see anything? Anything out of the ordinary?”

With as badly as her knees were shaking, she was surprised that she sounded so calm. “He left in a car. I didn’t see what kind it was, but someone else was driving.”

Dusty wasted no time jumping into his squad car. By the time Bri got her legs to work and climbed in, he already had the engine started, lights on, and was talking to someone on the radio.

“… call the feds and see if they want us to set up some road blocks. Although by the time those dickheads get their act together, he’ll be halfway to Mexico—or worse, the Henhouse.” He flipped on the siren and backed out in a swirl of gravel. “I’m headed out that way now.”

Feeling as if the entire experience was a dream, Bri just sat there staring out the windshield as Dusty turned onto the highway and accelerated. While her adrenaline eased down to a more manageable state, he stayed on the radio talking to first one person and then the other. The conversation with the FBI agent seemed to take the longest and frustrate him the most.

“… no, I didn’t get a positive ID. But it was Alejandro. I’d stake my reputation on it.”

“But would you stake thousands of dollars of the taxpayers’ money on it, Sheriff Hicks?” A male voice came through the speakers. “Because that’s what it will cost if we have to set up road blocks and close highways. And unless you have a positive ID, we’re not going to waste our time. Especially when there is no reason for Alejandro to still be in Texas. Our informants told us he was in Mexico City just yesterday.”

Dusty hesitated before he released his breath. “Fine, next time I’ll take a fuckin’ picture.” He clicked off the radio and turned off the siren.

“This Alejandro,” Bri said. “Is this the same man that almost killed Jenna Jay and Beau? The drug lord from New York City?”

“The same.” Even in the darkness, she could tell that his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “He escaped during a prison transfer a couple weeks ago.”

“A couple weeks seems like plenty of time to make it back to Mexico. Why would you think that he’d want to come back here?”

Dusty took the turnoff to Miss Hattie’s. “Call it a gut feeling. Men like Alejandro don’t forgive and forget. And since Jenna and Beau were responsible for his capture…”

As numb as she was, a lightbulb went on in Bri’s head. “So that’s why Beau was so willing to take Jenna to Africa when she’s five months pregnant.”

“Beau and I thought it was for the best. Just until we could make sure that Alejandro wasn’t coming back for them. Of course, Jenna doesn’t know about it.” He shook his head. “The woman would take on the entire Mexican Cartel if Beau would let her.”

It was the truth. Jenna Jay was one of the toughest women Bri had ever met. Much tougher than Bri, who suddenly felt a little light-headed as Dusty switched off the lights and coasted into the circular driveway of Miss Hattie’s.

“You think he’s here?” she asked.

“It’s doubtful that he’d be stupid enough to come here after what happened at the truck stop.” He put the car into park and turned off the engine. “Let’s just hope he didn’t show up here first.”

“Oh, my God, the hens.” She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her, his grip on her arm as tight as it had been in the restaurant.

“I want you to wait here.”

Before she could argue, he was out of the car and stealthily climbing the porch steps with gun drawn.

She waited until he’d disappeared inside before she got out and followed him. She stepped into the foyer to discover Dusty standing in the doorway of the dining room, his gun pointing up at the ceiling and his stance tense as his gaze swept over the room. A room filled with guests who all thought he was part of some kind of dinner show.

“Oh, look, Harold, it’s the county sheriff come to Miss Hattie’s to discover who murdered William Cates,” a middle-aged woman said. She turned in her chair to get a better view, and her gaze locked on Bri. “Although I’m not sure what the young lady has to do with the story. Or why she’s covered in blood.”

As if in slow motion, Bri glanced down and stared in confusion at the sweater that had once been a pure ivory but was now spotted with deep red. The last thing she heard before all colors blurred and turned to black was the desperate edge of Dusty’s voice as he finally used her given name.

“Brianne!”

Chapter Sixteen

B
RI COULDN’T SLEEP.
It didn’t have to do with the cut on her head, although it still throbbed from the antiseptic Sunshine had used. Or the heat of the October night. Or Minnie’s snoring, which drifted down the hallway. It had to do with the excitement that still coursed through her veins. Excitement that only grew as the night’s events played over and over in her head.

She’d been accosted by a leader of the Mexican Cartel. Had sliced her head on a piece of broken glass while having a gun rammed into her head. And had driven a good hundred miles an hour with siren blaring and lights flashing.

And now she was expected to go to sleep.

Not likely.

Even after the hot toddy Minnie had forced her to drink, Bri felt all jumpy and jittery. Like she could run the New York Marathon. Or hike the Rockies’ highest peak. Or free-fall out of a plane at thirteen thousand feet.

She certainly couldn’t just lie there.

Whipping back the covers, she slid her feet to the floor. Once she was standing, she had to admit she felt a little woozy. But she figured it had more to do with the hot toddy than the head injury. Minnie had a heavy hand when mixing drinks. Fortunately, the feeling left as quickly as it came. Since Starlet had yet to come to bed, Bri didn’t have to worry about waking her up when she dug through her suitcases for a t-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. She figured that a quick walk around the lilac garden should ease some of her anxiety.

But on the way past the library, Starlet’s voice stopped Bri in her tracks.

“What do you mean you can’t get me the money? You promised it would only be a loan—that you would pay every cent back. Well, I need it back now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

There was a desperate edge to Starlet’s voice that worried Bri. Of course, Starlet had always seemed a bit emotional and dramatic. That night had been a perfect example. While the other hens had been extremely concerned about Bri, Starlet had been almost hysterical. Especially after hearing that Alejandro was responsible. Although Bri couldn’t blame her. She was no doubt traumatized by what happened the night Alejandro and his thugs came to the Henhouse.

Her next words proved it. She went from sounding desperate to sounding like a crazed lunatic.

“You will get me that money! Do you hear me? You’ll get me that money, or so help me—hello? Hello!” There was a long pause before something hit the door.

Bri should’ve left well enough alone and continued out to the garden. Unfortunately, she had never been able to leave well enough alone. She tapped on the door before pushing it open and peeking her head in.

Starlet sat behind Minnie’s desk in a Tinkerbell nightshirt. Aside from being a little overweight, Starlet was one of the most beautiful women Bri had ever seen. Her thick hair was a rich brown with natural red highlights that complemented her clear complexion and golden brown eyes. Eyes that widened when they landed on Bri.

“Is everything okay?” Bri asked.

Starlet’s face flushed red. “Umm, yeah. I was just”—her eyes landed on the laptop on the desk—“shopping online.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I woke you—I get kind of loud when I… shop online.”

“It can be annoying.” Bri tried not to look down at the busted phone receiver on the floor. “I hate it when you find the perfect dress and it’s out of stock.”

“So annoying.” Starlet tried to smile, but it was a weak effort. Especially when her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry about what happened, Bri.”

Bri didn’t hesitate to step into the room. “It’s not your fault, Starlet. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And you shouldn’t be worried that Alejandro is coming back here. The FBI seems to think that he’s in Mexico. Which means that the guy I saw was just some criminal passing through.”

“But Sheriff Hicks doesn’t believe that,” she said.

Dusty didn’t believe it. He was now more convinced than ever that the man at the truck stop had been Alejandro. While Sunshine had been patching up Bri, he had been on his radio yelling at the federal agent. Of course, first he had yelled at Bri for not telling him she was injured. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought that his display of temper had been a result of fear and concern for her.

Unfortunately, she did know better.

“I’m sure the sheriff would’ve stuck around if he was worried about Alejandro,” she said.

Starlet glanced at the window. “But he did stick around. He’s been sitting outside all night.”

Bri couldn’t help rushing over to the window and looking out. Sure enough, Dusty’s patrol car was parked in the circular drive. And in the porch light, Bri could just make out the shadowy form of a cowboy hat and broad shoulders. For some strange reason, her heart did a little jig. Not that Dusty was there for her. He was just doing his job. Still, she couldn’t help smiling as she turned away from the window.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Starlet asked.

“No. Just a friend.” Her gaze drifted down to the busted phone on the floor. “Is that who you were talking to, Starlet? A boyfriend?”

Starlet’s face turned the same color as the burgundy curtains. “You heard?” she squeaked.

“It was kind of hard not to. You were talking pretty loudly. Do you need money, Starlet? Because if you do, I could talk with Brant—”

“No!” Starlet came up from the chair. “Please don’t talk to Brant. He’s already done so much for me. He’s paying for my apartment in Nashville and my demo CD. Plus, he set up the interview with that music producer. I couldn’t ask him to do any more.”

Bri held up a hand. “Okay. I promise I won’t say a word. You just sounded so upset, I got worried.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Starlet said. “I can handle it.”