Dade. Delores Fossen

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СКАЧАТЬ her after all. “Mr. Calhoun assured me that he would keep my whereabouts a secret.”

      Dade tipped his head to the badge again. “He didn’t exactly announce it to the press. He told me because you’re in my protective custody.”

      Her eyes narrowed even more. “Protective custody?” she repeated. “How do you figure that?”

      Dade walked closer to her. “Easy. You’re the state’s material witness, and the D.A. wants you alive long enough to testify against your father-in-law.”

      There it was in a nutshell, but that didn’t begin to cover what Dade wanted from this woman. Yes, he wanted her to testify against her late-husband’s scummy father, Charles Brennan. He wanted her to take the stand and spill her guts about the extortion and murders that Brennan had committed. While she was at it, Dade wanted to know if Brennan had killed his own son—Kayla’s husband.

      But those were just the icing.

      What Dade really wanted her to admit on the stand was that she’d had some part in another crime.

      Ellie’s murder.

      Dade had to take a deep breath as those memories crashed through him.

      Ellie hadn’t been just his sister-in-law and his twin brother’s wife. Dade had loved her as deeply as he did his blood family. Kayla Brennan and her scumbag father-in-law were going to pay for killing Ellie.

      “Don’t worry,” Kayla said with a sappy sweetness that couldn’t be genuine. “I didn’t come out of hiding just to let someone silence me.”

      No, but Kayla had come out of hiding after nearly a year. So she could testify, she’d told the D.A. But Dade wondered if there was more to it than that. He knew the D.A. had been trying to contact her for months, and she hadn’t responded.

      Until three hours ago.

      Then, Kayla had called D.A. Winston Calhoun and told him that she would testify against her father-in-law in an extortion and racketeering trial. A trial that could send Charles Brennan to jail for several decades.

      Hardly the death sentence Dade wanted for him.

      However, Dade was willing to bet that Brennan had no plans to spend one minute behind bars, much less a decade. And he probably wouldn’t. From what Dade had read, the case was weak at best, and witnesses kept backing out or disappearing.

      But now Kayla had arrived on the scene.

      Dade couldn’t believe Kayla had doing her civic duty in mind. No, this was probably some kind of revenge move to get back at her father-in-law. No honor among thieves in the Brennan clan.

      “I wasn’t worried about you,” Dade corrected. “Just doing a job I was ordered to do.” And he had indeed been ordered by not just the sheriff, who was his brother, but by the D.A. Kayla was a star witness in every sense of the word, and a lot of people wanted her alive.

      She made a sound of sarcastic amusement and breezed past him to head toward the double front doors. “I’ll stay alive so I can testify, and I don’t need you or anyone else in your family to protect me. That’s why I hired Kenneth.”

      Dade stared at her. Well, he stared at her backside anyway because she was already walking away from him. Her low thin heels made delicate clicks on the veiny marble floor.

      “I don’t care how many guns you hire,” Dade informed her. “You’re still in my protective custody.”

      Kayla stopped and glanced at him from over her shoulder. The corner of her rose-tinged mouth lifted just a fraction, but it wasn’t a smile on her face. “Protective custody, you say? Right. Those two words don’t go together when it comes to you or any member of your family. The Rylands hate me.”

      Dade didn’t deny it. “We have reason to hate you.”

      “No.” She huffed, causing a wisp of her hair to move slightly. “You have reason to hate someone for your sister-in-law’s murder, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

      “Got proof of that?”

      “Do you have proof to the contrary?” she fired right back at him.

      He leaned in a little. “If I did, your butt would be in jail right now.”

      Another smirk. A short-lived one. She turned away so that he couldn’t see her face. Her head lowered slightly. “Well, because I’m here and not in the Silver Creek jail, you obviously have no proof. So you can leave.”

      “I wish.” Dade went closer while keeping an eye on Kayla’s bodyguard. “Nothing would make me happier than to walk out that door and leave you to deal with the wolves, but I have my orders.”

      “You can take your orders and get out.” She reached for the doorknob, but Dade snagged her wrist with his left hand.

      The wrist snag obviously didn’t sit well with her bodyguard because he reached for his gun. Dade reached for his, too.

      “Stop this!” Kayla practically yelled. She jerked her hand away from Dade and shook her head. “Please,” she said. Her voice was softer now but edged with the nerves that were right beneath her skin. “Just leave.”

      Dade’s nerves were too close to the surface, too, and touching Kayla certainly hadn’t helped. He felt ornerier than usual, and that wasn’t good because he was the king of ornery. Best to go ahead and lay down some ground rules.

      Dade aimed his index finger at Kenneth. “You draw that gun and I’ll shoot you where you stand. Got that?”

      Oh, the man wanted to argue all right. Dade could see it in his eyes, but he knew what was in his own eyes—determination to finish this damn job so he could get the heck out of there.

      When Kenneth finally eased his hand away from his weapon, Dade turned back to Kayla. “Where’s your baby?”

      She pulled back her shoulders. “That’s none of your business.”

      He tapped his badge in case she’d forgotten. “This isn’t personal, lady. I’m asking because I need to establish some security measures.” He got closer, violating her personal space and then some.

      Not the brightest idea he’d ever had. His chest brushed against her breasts, and he got a fire-hot reminder that Kayla was a woman.

      Dade held his ground and met her eye-to-eye. “Where’s your son?” he repeated.

      She didn’t back down, either. “He’s sleeping upstairs. Now tell me what this is all about.”

      Dade ignored her question. “Is your son away from the windows?”

      She stepped back and her breath rattled in her throat. “Why?”

      Dade gave her a flat look. “Because my protective custody extends to your son, Robert.”

      “Robbie,” she corrected, although she looked as if she wanted to curse for giving him even that little bit of personal information about her child. A kid who was supposedly just eleven months old. A baby. СКАЧАТЬ