Gambling On A Dream. Sara Walter Ellwood

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СКАЧАТЬ “I refuse to play games on my phone. I’d be addicted in a minute and never get any work done.”

      “I’m not addicted.” He glanced down at his phone with a pucker on his lips.

      God, he looked so damn kissable.

      She shifted in her seat and stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “Right. When did you start playing it?”

      He set his phone on the table. “Two weeks ago. One of the guys in the Rangers got me started.”

      There was a knock on the door and it opened. She turned toward Chet and his brother-in-law as they entered the room.

      After the greetings and formalities, Gene Murphy sat in the seat across from her and Wyatt with a tape recorder in the middle.

      She pulled a notepad from her folder and smiled. “Tell us exactly what you remember from yesterday morning between four and five AM.”

      Gene shifted his broad shoulders and glanced at Chet, who’d taken the seat beside Wyatt; then he rubbed his hand over his dark beard. “I’d just opened up when I saw Talon Blackwell walk by in front of the Longhorn. I thought it was real odd that he’d be around at that time. The saloon had closed two hours before, and there’s nothing else in that part of town other than the downtown bank branch, old lady Pratt’s boarding house, and the daycare center her daughter runs two blocks down.”

      Wyatt leaned forward over his arms. “What was he doing when you saw him?”

      “Just walking.” Gene scrunched up his brows as if that would help him to remember better. “He was looking at a piece of paper or something, and he looked a little out of it. You know, like he was dazed or something. And he wiped his face on a rag.”

      “Do you know what time this was?” Wyatt asked.

      Gene folded his hands on the table. For someone who worked in a gas station, he had extremely clean hands.

      “It was exactly four twenty-five.” Gene pulled his hands from the table and hid them in his lap as if Dawn’s scrutiny made him nervous. “I know because I glanced at the clock.”

      Dawn’s heart thundered in her chest. How could Talon be involved with murdering a kid? When she’d lost her baby, her brother had been one of the few people who knew about it and had been there for her. “Did you see him either go into the ally to the parking lot behind the bar or come out of it?”

      She held her breath as Gene glanced at Chet and shook his head. “I didn’t see him come from behind the bar, but I know he did.”

      “What happened that you didn’t see him?” Wyatt’s voice held an edge of warning. She’d heard it more than once when they’d been in vice and questioned bystanders. He never liked when a witness made conclusions that might not be true and could color their perceptions.

      Gene frowned and glanced at Chet, then met her and Wyatt straight on. “I got a costumer then. A truck driver pulled up and came in for a burrito and coffee.”

      Sweat trickled down Dawn’s neck into her collar. She wasn’t sure if the heat of the room caused it or the memories of her and Wyatt. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you know this driver?”

      “Nope. Never seen him before. A lot of them use Highway Six through town to get west of the interstate mess around Dallas and Fort Worth.”

      “He may have seen something.” Wyatt put voice to her thoughts.

      She glanced at him, and for a beat, she went back in time, before she’d lost the baby, before he’d left her. They broke the spell at the same time when they turned away. She shifted in her seat to lean over her arms, and in the process, brushed his arm. “Do you have surveillance video?”

      “Yeah.” Murphy leaned back in his chair.

      Wyatt stood and moved to the other end of the table where he folded his arms in front of him. The meeting was over. “We’ll need to see those CDs.”

      Gene nodded his head. “Sure. I’ll bring them by later today.”

      * * * *

      Wyatt parked his Silverado beside his mother’s Ford Focus in the gravel driveway, leaned his head back against the rest, and closed his eyes.

      He should have known taking this case would bring back memories he’d long ago tried to forget. Dawn was still as driven as she’d always been. Four years ago, they’d been paired together on the Dallas PD, after his partner took a job with the DEA. Wyatt had worked in vice for about two years, and Dawn had been on patrol a little over a year.

      They’d been friends since they were kids, he’d even taken her to her senior prom, but working together as police partners had required a deeper relationship. Some cops claimed it bordered on a marriage, especially among vice cops who were constantly working in dangerous situations where undying trust and strong commitment to each other were important.

      Dawn had been a great undercover cop. Since she was young, and all but full-blooded Native American with a little African-American and Spanish blood mixed in, she could infiltrate gangs rather easily. He’d loved to watch her work.

      Then one night while they’d been on a stakeout, they’d let their mutual attraction get away with them. The moment they were off duty, they’d gone back to his place and made love for hours.

      He’d just come off a bad breakup with a local TV news anchor he’d dated off and on since college, and Dawn had dumped a loser whom she caught cheating on her. There had been no regrets after that night. If anything, they’d wondered why they hadn’t ever gotten together before then. For five months, they’d spent every moment together. She’d maintained her apartment for appearances, but had moved in with him.

      He’d wanted more, but she wanted to become a detective. His dream had been to buy a ranch somewhere and raise a family with her. However, all she ever wanted had been to work her way up the ranks and eventually run for sheriff of Forest County. For her, settling down and family weren’t even on the radar.

      He’d fallen in love with her, and he’d been confident she felt the same about him, but she’d never mentioned having a future with him.

      He opened his eyes and straightened in the seat, shutting down the memories before they dragged him down into the sewer of pain and betrayal. Revisiting the night his world came to an end wasn’t something he willing did.

      In the distance, a car alarm went off, drawing his attention to the east and beyond the old split rail fence where the pastures used to be. Now, a bunch of Dallas and Waco middle management types and soccer moms populated the housing development that had sprung up over the past three years.

      Considering Leon Ferguson was in jail for his numerable crimes, who would take over building the city-slicker cookie-cutter houses?

      With an ounce of luck, no one would take over. He was glad the construction had halted. Thank God, the mall was on the other side of what used to be a five-hundred-acre ranch. He grew up on the Circle M, working with his grandfather, and his younger shithead brother, Kyle.

      Kyle was also staring down a long stint as a resident of the state pen for his conspiring with Leon Ferguson against Wyatt’s cousin, Dylan Quinn, and his new wife, Charli Monroe Quinn.

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