Midnight Rider Read online

  Their gazes met. It wasn’t desire he saw there, but the cop toughness she’d greeted him with two nights ago when he’d shown up at her precinct. He wondered if there had been some new development in the case overnight, but he couldn’t broach the subject in front of Faith and Dalton.

  “Good morning,” Brit said as she joined them in the kitchen and walked over to plant a kiss among the wispy curls on the top of Kimmie’s head. “And good morning to you, little angel.”

  Cannon handed the baby to her without hesitation. To his surprise, Brit was almost as awkward with Kimmie as he was. Nonetheless, she cuddled the infant in the curve of her arm and Kimmie seemed content—at least for the time being.

  “I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” Brit apologized.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” R.J. said. “The storm probably kept you up half the night. It did me, not that I don’t always wake up a half-dozen times every night.”

  “I usually have that same problem, but I slept soundly once the storm passed.” She walked over and offered her free hand to R.J. “I’m Detective Brit Garner. We met briefly when I dropped Kimmie off the other day.”

  “Yep. Glad you’re sticking around a little longer this time.”

  “I apologize for my abruptness, but at the time I was afraid you’d refuse to accept responsibility for Kimmie, and I was neck-deep in a very important murder case.”

  “Kimmie’s mother?”

  “Yes, I suppose Cannon explained that situation to you.”

  “Not in any detail. He mentioned it last night when you were driving up. That’s all.”

  “There’s not much more to tell just yet,” Brit said. “The investigation is ongoing.”

  The woman who’d been giving Cannon tips on handling Kimmie stepped closer to Brit. “I’m Faith, Travis Dalton’s wife.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Brit said. “Thanks so much for helping care for Kimmie.”

  “I should be thanking you. It’s so much fun to have a baby in the house. But Hadley has done more caretaking than I have. The rest of us have to threaten rebellion to get Kimmie away from her.”

  “I’m sure Kimmie is thriving on all the attention.”

  “I’m sorry about your sister,” Faith said. “So sad for Kimmie to lose her mother before she ever got to know her. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to deal with the grief and the investigation at the same time.”

  “I think it would be more difficult if I didn’t have the investigation to focus on.”

  “You did the right thing bringing Kimmie here,” R.J. said. “Having my youngest granddaughter around is better than any medicine my doctor prescribes.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, and I really appreciate you letting me visit her.”

  “Stay as long as you like. Always room for one or a dozen more at the Dry Gulch. Long as I got a biscuit, you got half.”

  “Now that’s hospitality.”

  Faith walked over and set a mug of hot coffee on the table near Brit.

  “Thanks. You must have been reading my mind.”

  “No, but I know how worthless I am until I have that first cup of coffee in the morning. How about some breakfast? We had blueberry pancakes and sausage if you’d like that.”

  “Please don’t go to that much trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. I can warm the leftover sausage patties and the pancake batter is already mixed. All I have to do is spoon some on the griddle.”

  “If you turn down the blueberry pancakes, you’ll be missing a real treat,” Cannon warned. “In fact, I’ll do the cooking while you reconnect with Kimmie.”

  “Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Watching her with Kimmie, Cannon wondered why Brit hadn’t married and had children of her own. It definitely couldn’t be that she hadn’t had plenty of men to choose from.

  Might just be that she’d chosen a career over family. From the little he’d seen her job didn’t seem to leave a lot of time for marriage or babies. Or even for recuperating from an attack.

  Or had she simply not met Mr. Right yet?

  Scared of where his own thoughts were heading, Cannon forced himself to concentrate on cooking pancakes. He stirred the batter while the griddle was heating. At least Brit had agreed to eat. That must mean the nausea hadn’t come back.

  Just thinking about the attack sent the anxiety bucking around inside him again. Her life was still in danger.

  She was the cop. She had her own gun. She was the protector and would balk at any suggestion she needed protecting. The only reason she was hanging out with him was that she’d needed a driver until she was back to one hundred percent fighting form.

  From the looks of things, that was probably now.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking otherwise, but he was sure what he was feeling right now. No matter when the lab work came back or what the result, he wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure Brit was safe.

  * * *

  R.J. SETTLED IN a kitchen chair. He hadn’t done much talking this morning, but he’d done a whole lot of watching and listening. He hadn’t quite figured out what Brit and Cannon were doing here together, but he knew there was something cooking between them.

  Anyone with half a brain could see that in the way they looked at each other. R.J. was mighty curious how that came about considering Cannon was the father of her dead sister’s baby. Had sure sounded as though he wasn’t in her good graces when she’d dropped Kimmie off at the ranch.

  Couldn’t predict love. It had a way of sneaking up on you without your seeing it coming. Had happened to Leif and Travis and it was working great for them. If Cannon and Brit pulled it off, it would sure be a blessing for little Kimmie.

  God’s plan, his neighbor Caroline would say.

  But R.J. was betting they hadn’t driven out here pushing midnight last night just to spend some time with Kimmie this morning, not with the detective still trying to find her sister’s killer. R.J. had better sense than to go meddling into that, too. Besides, life had a way of sifting out the weevils if you gave it time.

  He leaned back in the kitchen chair. “Never met a female homicide detective before. What made you decide to take on a grisly job like that?”

  “My father was a homicide detective before he became the chief of police. He was my idol. I always wanted to grow up and be just like him.”

  “Must be a good man?”

  “He was. He was murdered three years ago. I made detective a few months later. I think the promotion was as much out of respect for him as for me, but I love the job. Not the murders, but bringing the guilty to justice.”

  “Did you find your dad’s killer?”

  “Not yet, but I will.”

  “My money’s on you,” R.J. said. “You ever do any horseback riding?”

  “Not lately.”

  “Might want to try it sometime. I always think clearest on the back of a horse, especially since that tumor started playing havoc with my thinking skills. Life just looks more manageable from the saddle.”

  “That’s an interesting theory. I’d love to test it when I have more time.”

  “You’re always welcome to ride one of my animals. I got some real beauties in the horse barn. You should at least take a walk out to see them while you’re here.”

  “I’d love to do that.”

  “Catch me at a good time and I’ll go with you.”

  Cannon brought over a plate of pancakes and sausages and set them in front of Brit.

  Faith put the syrup and silverware on the table and refilled Brit’s coffee mug. “Let me take Kimmie for you while you eat.”

  “I think you’d better. Wouldn’t want to drip syrup on her.”

  Before she had the first bite down, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get that,” R.J. said. “Probably just a neighbor stopping by to say howdy. You keep right on eating.”

  R.J. took his time shuffling down the hallway. Whoever it was he planned
to get rid of them fast. He was hoping for some one-on-one time with Cannon this morning.

  He opened the door, surprised to see Sheriff Garcia standing there.

  “What brings you out this time of the morning? Got trouble out this way?”

  “I just left Ben Campbell’s spread. Connie Barrick’s son got drunk again last night, ran off the road and rammed through Ben’s fence. Car’s still sitting there. Back wheels are buried in the muddy ditch. Found Jack Barrick sleeping it off under a tree.”

  “Ben have any livestock wander off?”

  “Nope. Fortunately, all his cattle were grazing in other pastures.”

  “Well, you’re here, might as well come in and have a cup of coffee,” R.J. offered reluctantly.

  “Coffee will have to wait. I’m here to see Detective Garner.”

  “What about?”

  “Police business. Didn’t she tell you I was coming?”

  “No, but then we hadn’t a chance to do much talking yet. She’s just now having breakfast.”

  “Well, go get her. We got business to discuss—in private.”

  “Why don’t you come on back to the kitchen with me and have a cup of coffee while she finishes her pancakes?”

  “I’ll have coffee after we talk.”

  “I’m sure whatever you have to say can wait five more minutes.”

  “I say we let her decide that. Just tell her that another body connected to her investigation just hit the morgue.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What does he mean another body in the morgue?”

  “I have no idea, Cannon. I’m just telling you what Sheriff Garcia said. He talked like it would mean something to Brit.”

  Cannon picked up his pace to keep up with Brit, then grabbed her arm and tugged her to a stop. He looked around quickly, making sure that neither Faith nor R.J. had followed them down the narrow hallway.

  “I think you should reconsider talking to Melanie. Let someone else handle this case. Take the day off and spend it with Kimmie.”

  “I’m fine, Cannon. I’m a cop. I don’t run from murders. I find the killers and lock them up.”

  “When you’re healthy. You’re not yet.”

  “I’ll handle this, Cannon. I don’t tell you how to ride a bull. You can’t tell me how to do my job. I’ll listen to what the sheriff has to say and then I’ll call Rick back and see why he didn’t tell me this.”

  “Call Rick back?”

  “He called this morning. They have an ID on my attacker. If there had been another murder attributed to him, I’m sure he would have told me.”

  “Who’s the assailant?”

  “A man named Clive Austen.”

  “How is he connected to you?”

  “He’s not, or at least not that I know of. I’ve never even heard of him, but apparently he has an impressive rap sheet in the Dallas area. Anything for money except work for it.”

  “So if Melanie is behind this, she might have just followed her usual modus operandi even though it didn’t work for her before.”

  “That’s a definite possibility.”

  “Do they have an address on this Austin guy?”

  “I don’t know. Look, Cannon, Rick’s not the only one I talked to this morning. I also called Captain Bradford.”

  “And she didn’t mention another victim, either?”

  “No, but she had plenty to say about you. I’ve been ordered not to discuss this case with you and definitely not to get you involved the way I did last night at the graveyard.”

  “How did she find out about that?”

  “Sheriff Garcia called her this morning. Apparently they’ve worked together before and he wanted to clear up a few questions about my wanting to interrogate Melanie. Bradford was furious—even more about your being with me than the fact that I’d ignored her orders not to get involved.”

  Cannon shrugged. “I walked with you through a graveyard.”

  “And encountered a suspect in an active investigation. End result, I am not to interrogate Melanie Crouch today or any other day.”

  Cannon mumbled a curse under his breath, but he let go of Brit’s arm. He hadn’t seen that coming but probably should have. Now he’d screwed things up for her. Of course, if he’d let her go into the graveyard without backup, she might be dead. Someone should point that out to Captain Bradford.

  “I’d like to be with you when you talk to the sheriff.”

  “Not going to happen, Cannon. Bradford will yank my rank if I go against her orders on this. Just back off.”

  Instead, he followed her onto the porch. The sheriff was leaning against a support post. Travis Dalton was climbing the steps. Cannon recognized him from the reading of the will.

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” Travis said. “What’s up?”

  Garcia nodded toward Brit and Cannon. “I’ve got business with Detective Garner. I guess you two have met.”

  “Not yet,” Travis said. “I worked a homicide scene until sunup this morning. Just came home to clean up and get a short nap before I head back into Dallas.”

  Cannon, Travis and Brit took care of introductions.

  “If I can be of any help, let me know,” Travis offered.

  “I appreciate that,” the sheriff said. “I’m just cooperating with the HPD myself. Now if you two will excuse us, Brit and I need to talk.”

  “You can have the porch,” Travis said. “Cannon and I can go inside. I need some coffee, anyway.”

  Cannon hated being shut out of the discussion with the sheriff, but Brit wasn’t going to cut him any slack on this. At least he could run a few of his concerns by Travis.

  Captain Bradford couldn’t do a damn thing about that.

  * * *

  “DID YOU TELL R.J. that there was another death related to the crime in which Melanie Crouch is a suspect?”

  “Yep.”

  “Who’s the victim?”

  “Clive Austin.”

  “You must be mistaken. They’ve ID’d Clive as the man who attacked me, but he’s not dead.”

  “He is now.”

  “Where did you get your information?”

  “From Carla Bradford.”

  If Garcia was right, it meant that both Rick and the captain had withheld that information from her. Associating with Cannon was costing her the confidence of her boss and her partner. She had to break away from him entirely.

  Garcia walked from the post to one of the rockers. Brit continued to stand.

  “Did Captain Bradford say where they found Clive’s body?”

  “No. Don’t hold me to any direct quotes, but the gist of it was that the situation had changed. I asked her what happened. She said Clive Austin had been found murdered.”

  “That’s all she said?”

  “It was all she said on that subject. She seemed in a hurry to get off the phone so I didn’t question her further. Carla Bradford’s a professional. She’ll let me know what I need to know when I need to know it.”

  Apparently that same professional courtesy no longer extended to Brit. She would call Rick the second Garcia left and demand some answers.

  “Want to tell me why you didn’t give me the straight scoop last night?” Garcia asked.

  “I told you exactly what we were doing in that graveyard.”

  “You didn’t mention that you were recovering from an attack and weren’t even supposed to be working the case.”

  “I was feeling much better. And I don’t consider checking on a woman running through a cemetery at night an investigation.”

  “Not exactly the way it seemed to me when I arrived.”

  “Melanie pulled a gun on me. I reacted the way any police officer would.”

  He reached down and nonchalantly knocked a black spider off the arm of the rocker. “I’d have felt the same,” he admitted. “Reckon Bradford finally came to the same conclusion.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “That’s the real reason she called back a
few minutes ago. She wants you to talk to Melanie before she gets lawyered up. Not that I expect her, too. Far as I know, she’s dang near broke.”

  “She wants me to interrogate Melanie?”

  “Yep. We’ll have to read Melanie her rights since this could lead to her arrest as a suspect in a murder case and not just a parole violator.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “As soon as I get back to Oak Grove. In fact, you can ride into town with me. I’ll have one of my deputies give you a lift back to the ranch when you’re finished.”

  “I can be ready in five minutes or less.”

  “Hold your horses. We’re not in that big a hurry. Melanie’s not going anywhere. I got some business out this way I need to take care of before we go back into Oak Grove. I’ll be back to pick you up in under an hour.”

  “Perfect.” That would give her time to talk to Rick and get the full scoop on where they’d found Clive’s body.

  Garcia stood and hiked up his khaki trousers. “Bradford did make one stipulation, though. She doesn’t want Cannon anywhere near the suspect.”

  “He won’t be.”

  “Okeydokey. In the meantime, you be careful,” Garcia said. “You’ve had two people try to kill you in two days. As we say around here, you’re wallowing in danger.”

  “I’m a cop. It goes with the job.”

  * * *

  BRIT PUNCHED IN Rick’s speed dial number on her cell phone.

  Rick answered the phone. “Damn, partner. You picked a hell of a time to go running off with a bull rider. You’re missing all the excitement.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In a crummy apartment on the southeast side of Houston working a crime scene. What else would I be doing on a beautiful, crisp, perfect-for-fishing morning?”

  “Is it true that Clive Austin’s body was found?”

  “Yeah. I’m here with the body now. Death does not become him.”

  Killed by her bullet. In self-defense, but that didn’t keep a sickening sensation from weighing on her heart like tons of steel. It wasn’t the first time she’d shot someone, but it was the first time she’d taken another life.

  She’d always known this day would come, but that made it no easier.

  “You still there, Brit?” Rick asked.