Your mother could be, too.”
Addie had been certain that there was nothing Weston could say that would make her agree to his order.
Nothing except that.
“Mom,” Addie said after a serious debate with herself. “Take a message. I’ll return the call soon.”
She hoped.
“Start talking,” Addie told Weston. “Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he started to unbutton his shirt.
Either he’d lost his mind, or...
It was or.
Addie saw the scar on his chest. The long jagged cut that wasn’t nearly as faded and healed as the one on her face. It was one that she’d already noticed the night they’d landed in bed together. Weston had told her he’d been hooked by a bull’s horn at a rodeo.
“The Moonlight Strangler did this to me,” Weston said. “Your father nearly killed me.”
Oh, God.
“You know who my birth father is?” She couldn’t ask that fast enough.
“No. I didn’t see his face. And I didn’t have any leads to his identity until I found out the results of your DNA test.”
Addie’s heart was pounding now. Her breath thin. “You thought he’d come to me?”
Weston nodded. “I counted on it. I know your DNA match was supposed to be kept quiet, but I figured if I could find out about it, then so could the killer.”
It took her a moment to gather her voice. “You leaked my DNA results?” She shoved Weston away from her and would have bolted, but, like before, he held on.
“No,” he insisted. “But someone might have. Maybe a dirty cop or someone in the crime lab who was paid off.”
“Or it could have been you. And to think, I slept with you, not just that one night, either, but the following night, too. I...” Addie stopped because there was no way she would give him another emotional piece of herself. “You used me as bait.”
Her voice hardly had sound now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling every inch of the proverbial knife he’d stuck in her back.
“No,” Weston repeated. “But someone did. And it worked.”
There went the rest of her breath. “Who? How?”
Weston shook his head. “I don’t know the who or the how, but I know the results.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “Addie, you’re the Moonlight Strangler’s next target.”
Weston waited for Addie’s reaction, and he didn’t have to wait long.
She shook her head, her bottom lip trembling just a little before she clamped her teeth over it. It only took a few seconds for Addie to process what Weston had just told her.
And to dismiss it.
“Why should I believe anything you say?” she asked.
Weston had no trouble hearing the hurt in her voice. No trouble hearing the anger, too. Yes, he was responsible for both, and while he’d never intended to hurt Addie, he also hadn’t wanted a serial killer to have free rein to keep on killing. Too bad he’d failed.
Addie was indeed hurt.
And the killer was still out there.
Of course, Addie knew that better than anyone else: her own sister-in-law had been one of the Moonlight Strangler’s victims.
“I’m sorry,” Weston said, knowing his words wouldn’t be worth much. “But it’s true. I have proof the Midnight Strangler’s coming after you, and we need to talk about that.”
Judging from the way her eyes narrowed, he’d been right about that apology not meaning much.
Addie didn’t jump to ask about his proof.
Her blond hair was gathered into a ponytail, but she swiped away the strands that’d fallen onto her face during their scuffle, and she whirled around so that she was no longer facing him. At least she didn’t try to make a run out of her office again, but she might do just that before this conversation was over.
Even though it had only been three months since Weston had seen her, she’d changed plenty. He had watched her for about a half hour before he’d gotten the chance to pull her into the office for a private chat. When she was in the barn earlier, Addie had been working with one of the horses, and she had actually smiled a time or two. She looked content. Happy, even.
Definitely something he hadn’t seen when she was in San Antonio.
There, she’d been wearing dresses more suited for office work than the jeans and denim shirt she was wearing now. And she definitely hadn’t been happy or smiling during their chats at the bar and in his hotel room.
No.
Most of the time, she’d been on the verge of losing it, and had been trying to come to terms with learning exactly who she was. Weston certainly hadn’t helped with the situation by sleeping with her.
After several long moments, she turned back around to face him. In the same motion, she took out her phone from her jeans pocket. “I’m calling Jericho.”
Jericho, her oldest adopted brother. He was also the sheriff in the nearby town of Appaloosa Pass, the job once held by her late father. Weston definitely didn’t want to tangle with any of the Crockett lawmen, not just yet anyway, so that’s why he reached for her phone.
“I want to find out who you really are,” Addie snapped. “And you’re not going to stop me from doing that.”
It was a risk in case she tried to get her brother to arrest him or something, but Weston decided to see how this played out. Eventually, he’d have to deal with Jericho anyway. It was a meeting he wasn’t exactly looking forward to since Jericho had a reputation for being a badass, no-shades-of-gray kind of lawman.
“Jericho,” Addie said when her brother answered. She put the call on speaker. “I need a favor. Can you check and see if there’s a Texas Ranger by the name of Weston Cade?”
Weston heard Jericho’s brief silence. Was he suspicious? Definitely. But the question was—what would Jericho do about it? If he came storming back to the house, it might trigger something Weston didn’t want triggered.
“Why?” her brother asked her.
“Just do it,” Addie insisted, “please.” She sounded more like an annoyed sister than a woman whose lip had been trembling just moments earlier.
More silence from Jericho, followed by some mumblings,
