Читать книгу Cowboy Fever - Joanna Wayne - Страница 11

Pain was kicking in big-time. Dakota took a small bottle of aspirin from his shirt pocket and shook a few tablets into his hand.

“Meds and alcohol don’t mix,” Viviana cautioned.

“They do in my world.” He downed them with the whiskey chaser. “Do you have a flashlight? I’d like to take a look at that bay window from the outside.”

“You do realize it’s almost three o’clock in the morning.”

“I’d still like to check it out before a cop arrives.”

“I was told to stay inside with the doors locked.”

“And you should. So either hand me a flashlight or I’ll get one out of my truck.”

While Viviana opened a kitchen drawer and rummaged for a flashlight, Dakota pulled a sharp knife from the rack at the back of the kitchen counter.

“There’s really nothing the man could see from out there,” Viviana explained as she handed him a shiny red flashlight. “The blinds were closed. And even from the front door, all you can see through the sidelights is the foyer.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I’d rather you not go out there, Dakota. The man has a gun and he might come back.”

“I hope he does, but it’s not likely.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He ran both times I showed up. He’s not looking to use that gun if he doesn’t have to. And he’s not looking for a real fight.”

“How do you know so much about criminals?”

“I watch CSI religiously.”

Once outside, the steady whir of the air conditioner dominated the still, quiet air. Dakota squeezed through the shrubs so that he was pretty much in the same spot that the trespasser had been.

Just as Viviana had said, the blinds completely blocked any view of the inside of the house. That ruled out the guy just being a voyeur. So did the fact that the screen was missing.

Dakota sprayed a beam of light over the hedge. Sure enough, the screen was tucked into one of the bushes. He moved the beam back to the window. There were marks on the wood where the guy had tried to pry the window open.

No doubt about it, the guy had come back for her. Dakota’s insides bucked at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t showed up at that exact moment.

Viviana was waiting to open the door for him when he stepped in front of it.

“Do you have an alarm system?” Dakota asked.

“Yes, and it was set. It would have gone off instantly if the man had come through the door or the window.”

“Nice in theory, but professional crooks disable them all the time. I’ll check it.”

“So much for feeling safe in my own house. Now that I think about it, the motion detector didn’t come on when you went outside.”

“I know. I suspect the bulb is crushed into the lawn behind the bushes.”

Before Dakota could check the alarm system, the security company called on Viviana’s cell phone to say they weren’t getting a signal from the house phone line.

She assured them she was fine. They promised to send a technician out to check the system the following morning, though they suspected the problem was with the phone company.

Dakota suspected it was with a cut phone line.

“What if you hadn’t come back tonight, Dakota? What then?” Viviana’s voice shook. “That armed thug would be in my house right now.”

Dakota slipped an arm around her shoulder. “I did come back. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Viviana dropped to the sofa.

Seconds later, the flashing red lights of a squad car filtered through the sidelights for a few seconds before going dark. The sirens were silent.

Viviana raced to the front door. Dakota was only a step behind her, each hurried step a bitter reminder that physically, he was no match for anyone right now.

The two uniformed police officers showed their IDs and once they’d taken seats in the cozy living room, they got down to business. Dakota let Viviana do most of the talking, though he did have to explain that he didn’t get a good look at the guy he’d chased off.

Nothing in the questioning jumped out at Dakota until the younger of the cops, a guy named Greg Simmons, started asking more pointed questions.

“Is there anyone who might have a reason to target you, Dr. Mancini?”

Viviana fingered the small gold heart that dangled from a chain around her neck. “Yes, I talked to Detective Cortez earlier tonight. I’m sure he’ll follow up on that first thing in the morning, but—”

The cop interrupted. “Harry Cortez, in homicide?”

She nodded.

“How did you come to talk to him?”

“I know him from a case he’s investigating.”

The older cop leaned forward. “What case would that be?”

“The Compton case. I admitted Leslie Compton to the hospital the night she died of abuse. The case goes to trial in nine days. I’m one of the prosecutor’s witnesses.”

The cop nodded as if that explained a lot. “So you’re involved in the case against Hank Bateman.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t Hank Bateman who stole my car. I would have recognized him. if you need to know more, I suggest you talk to Detective Cortez.”

“We’ll make sure he sees this report.”

“I’ve told you everything. Wouldn’t it be more useful now for you to be searching the neighborhood for the man who tried to break in my house—whoever he may be?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll get on that. Keep your doors locked and if there’s any more trouble, call 911 again. I’ll see that someone’s in the neighborhood for the rest of the night.”

“I appreciate that.”

Dakota stood and tried to wrap his mind around the new fragments of information. Viviana was to be a witness in a case against a man the cops seemed to know well. That was never a good sign.

She was massaging her right temple when she rejoined him after seeing the officers to the door. She dropped to the sofa. “We need to talk.”

Her tone indicated this wouldn’t be pleasant. “About the Compton case?”

“No, that’s far too detailed to go into tonight. We need to talk about us.”

As if that would be easy. “Whatever you need to say about us has waited sixteen months. Another eight hours can’t hurt. So if it’s all the same with you, I say we crash.”

“You can’t stay here. I don’t even have an extra bed.”

He patted the sofa cushion. “This works fine. And don’t worry, I’m a light sleeper. I’ll wake at the first sign of trouble. Not that I expect there to be any more tonight.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m staying.”

“Then I guess we should just crash.”

She didn’t sound excited about having him as an overnight guest, but she did sound relieved. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was sticking around for protection or because she could put off the conversation she was obviously dreading.

She walked away but returned a few minutes later with sheets, a pillow and a fresh ice pack. The moment grew uncomfortable. Saying a friendly good-night to a woman with whom he’d shared the hottest sex of his life, albeit months before, was downright prickly.

They managed it. He watched her walk up the stairs, the gentle sway of her hips as seductive as ever.

A few hours ago, he’d had nothing on his mind but riding a bull. Now he was consumed with Viviana, and everything had become complex and tangled.

Worse, he had a feeling deep in his gut that the complications were going to get a lot worse before this was over.

DAKOTA’S FEET stretched over the end of the sofa, making it impossible to get into a comfortable position. A nagging headache sat at the back of his skull. Breathing hurt. His muscles ached.

Unable to sleep, his mind juggled the night’s events. It was purely coincidence that he’d arrived on the scene at the exact moment that Viviana was being attacked.

But how much of the rest of what happened was coincidence? Random attack or targeted? A determined bastard coming to finish what he’d started at the hospital?

And if Viviana had been targeted, was Hank Bateman behind it? Dakota would need to know a lot more about the Compton case before he could even make an intelligent guess.

He could call his brother Wyatt. Consulting a good homicide detective made sense, and Wyatt was one of the best. But calling him in Atlanta would open a whole new set of thorny dilemmas.

Two of Dakota’s brothers lived in or near their hometown of Mustang Run. Dylan lived on Willow Creek Ranch with their father; Sean lived close by in Bandera. His brother Tyler planned to move back to the ranch as soon as he finished his stint in the army. His wife, Julie, was already there.

Dylan, Tyler and Sean had let go of the past and embraced Troy Ledger as if he were Santa Claus coming down the chimney on Christmas Eve. It worked for them.

Dakota wanted no part of it. At this late date, he wasn’t about to start wallowing in the mud while pretending it was chocolate.

Dakota stretched and cringed as he sucked in the pain. He hadn’t hurt this bad since … since he’d been kicked by a bull the night he’d first met Viviana. Or maybe since the night they’d said goodbye and he’d rode off into the sunset in his then-aging pickup truck.

There were all kinds of hurtin’.

He’d get over the pain in his muscles and joints soon enough, but he might as well face facts. Even if Viviana told him his presence around here wasn’t wanted or needed, which he figured was the basis for the promised discussion, he’d be in no shape to ride or rack up points for the next few nights.

VIVIANA JERKED AWAKE to the sound of footfalls on the stairs. She glanced at the clock—7:00 a.m. No doubt Claire was going to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, just as she did most mornings about this time. Only normally Viviana would be just finishing up her graveyard shift.

This morning when Claire went for the morning newspaper, she’d spy the hunky cowboy on the sofa. The officious nanny would not consider that a pleasant surprise.

Viviana untangled her feet from the sheets, jumped from the bed and grabbed her ivory-colored silk robe. She’d have to get downstairs on the double to explain—or run interference—since somehow Claire had slept right through last night’s drama. As had Briana.

The sixty-something nanny was in super physical condition, but she did have a slight hearing problem. She didn’t wear her aids when she slept, but she kept the baby monitor on the bedside table near her ear so that she’d hear Briana’s slightest whimper.

Poking her arms through the sleeves of the robe, Viviana made a quick stop at the door to the nursery. Briana stirred and stretched her pudgy little arms over her head when the door squeaked open, but thankfully her eyes remained closed.

The smell of coffee drifted up the staircase. Dakota must have beat Claire to the brew task. Impulsively, Viviana smoothed her hair and pulled the robe tighter, looping the belt to keep the robe closed.

Her pulse quickened as she pictured Dakota in her kitchen making coffee. Barefoot. His hair rumpled. Wearing his briefs … or nothing at all. The memories of how it had once been spilled into her mind and Viviana trembled as heat suffused her body.

She paused when she reached the bottom step, and her fingers wrapped tightly around the newel cap as she eavesdropped on the conversation.

“Now who did you say you are again?”

“Dakota Ledger.”

“And you’re an old friend of Viviana’s?”

“That’s right.”

Viviana hurried to the kitchen before Dakota had to answer any more questions, and before he started asking any. He was barefoot and shirtless, but fortunately wearing jeans.

“I see you two have met,” Viviana said.

“Yes, and he’s lucky I didn’t ram a knife through him. I sure didn’t expect to find a strange man in the kitchen.”

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Viviana said, “but his visit was unexpected. I ran into him in the E.R. and, well, he just wasn’t in any shape to go home alone. I thought he should stay here in case his pain became worse during the night.”

She did not want to explain the ordeal of last night to Claire. If she tried, Claire would ask a million questions and give at least an hour’s worth of advice.

Claire studied the bruises on Dakota’s chest and shoulder. “Were you in an accident?”

“You could say that. I got thrown from a bull.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a kick to the ribs.”

“Hmmph.”

Her skeptical tone no doubt summed up not only Claire Evers’s feelings on bull riding, but also her thoughts on his having spent the night.

Viviana pulled some mugs from the cabinet over the coffeemaker. “Thanks for filling in for me last night, Claire.”

“You know I don’t mind staying when you need me.”

“And I really appreciate that. I won’t need you anymore today and you probably have things you need to do.” It was the most tactful way she could think of to get rid of Claire.

“I don’t have anything planned. I can stay if you need me.”

“No. I can handle things.”

“In that case, I’ll just get my handbag and head out. I’ll be back on Wednesday evening at my regular time.”

“Are you the housekeeper?” Dakota asked.

“Lands, no. I’m the nanny. I’ve taken care of Briana since six weeks after she was born. Viviana says she doesn’t trust anyone but me with her baby.”

“Viviana’s baby?” Dakota leaned against the counter, so stunned the words were a husky whisper.

“Yes. The doctor’s daughter. Briana? Who did you think I was talking about?”

“Just checking.” He stood perfectly still, staring at Viviana without saying a word until Claire was out of hearing range. “You never mentioned having a baby,” he said accusingly.

“You didn’t ask.” She poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to him. “I guess you still take it black.”

“Forget the coffee. How old is the baby?”

“Seven months.”

“Seven months. Does that mean you were pregnant with another man’s child when we were together?”

This was not the way Viviana had planned this encounter. Only, that was the real problem. She’d never been able to visualize exactly what she’d say or how Dakota would react. And she was starting to resent his attitude.

“I don’t remember you asking or caring if I was in another relationship at the time. But I wasn’t pregnant when we met, Dakota. I was pregnant when you left.”

“You’re not saying …”

“Yes, I’m saying you have a precious, adorable daughter—Briana. You don’t have to take my word for it. You can swab her cheek and have a paternity test if that would make you feel better. But I wasn’t with another man for months before I met you and I haven’t been with one since.”

Briana began to wail. She was a terrific baby, but she had a horrific sense of timing.

Viviana left Dakota standing in the kitchen staring into space like a zombie while she climbed the steps to the nursery to get Briana from her crib. It was past time the little darling met her bruised and battered cowboy daddy.