flipped the sandwiches. “No, never even looked at another woman. He and my mom were true soul mates and when she was gone he never showed any interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone else.”
“From what my grandmother told me, my mother wasn’t even sure who my father was.” Her gaze went back to the window again and when she looked back at Dalton a tiny frown furrowed her forehead. “Why would he tell you that I’d killed Nana?”
Dalton took up the grilled cheese sandwiches and placed them on two separate plates. “If he burned down her trailer last night it’s possible he doesn’t know she isn’t dead. If he puts out the word that you’re wanted for questioning in a murder case, then you’re going to have trouble hiding out. He can get law enforcement officials in every county keeping an eye out for you.”
He set the plates on the table then went back to grab the two bowls of soup. “If you’re trying to cheer me up, it isn’t working,” she said dryly.
She placed her spoon in her bowl, but didn’t begin to eat. Instead, she looked back out the window, where night had completely fallen. “Do you think he believed you when you told him you didn’t know me, that I wasn’t here?”
Dalton followed her gaze to the window and a tight knot of tension formed in his chest. “I have a feeling we’ll know before the bus shows up in town.”
* * *
Brandon raised his collar against the stiff wind that blew from the north. He stood across the street from Dalton West’s place, eyes trained on the upper windows. She was in there. He smelled her, the trailer trash tramp who was trying to keep his son from him.
He’d known that she’d blown town, had taken his son and left Sandstone. A visit to her grandmother’s house yesterday had given him his clue. The old lady wasn’t home but he’d gotten inside and taken a look around. The minute he’d seen the name and phone number on the nightstand, he knew in his gut that he was on her trail.
It was obvious from the condition of the small bedroom in the trailer that Janette had packed up and left. Clothes were thrown helter-skelter and there wasn’t a baby article to be found except for the crib, which was stripped of bedding.
He’d been enraged. He’d gone back to his office, researched to find out what he could about Dalton West, then late last night had returned to the trailer and set it on fire. He considered the death of Janette’s grandmother collateral damage. He hadn’t yet gotten the official report of the fire from their fire chief, but he knew the man would write up whatever Brandon told him to.
With the old woman dead and Janette wanted as a suspect in an arson-murder case, she’d find it difficult to get out of Cotter Creek. She was a wanted woman, and if he put a reward on her head, she wouldn’t be able to show her face anywhere.
He’d known he’d find Janette, and he had. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the windows. Even though Dalton West had told him he’d never heard of Janette Black, that there was no woman with a baby inside his place, Brandon knew he’d lied.
The sheriff had done his homework. He knew Dalton West was a bachelor who lived alone. But he’d watched the silhouettes move back and forth in front of those windows and knew the professional bodyguard wasn’t alone. And if that wasn’t enough, when Dalton had opened the door and Brandon had gotten a glimpse inside, he’d seen a diaper bag on the living-room floor, a diaper bag with the same blue teddy bear print that had decorated one area of one of the small bedrooms in the trailer.
She was in there, and there was no way she was going to escape him. One Oklahoma bodyguard wasn’t going to stand in the way of Brandon Sinclair getting exactly what he wanted.
Chapter 6
The cough woke Dalton. An irritating cough that pulled him groggily from his sleep. His eyes burned as he sat up on the sofa and realized the air was filled with the acrid scent of smoke.
Fear shoved aside the last of his sleepiness as he grabbed his gun off the coffee table where he’d placed it before going to sleep the night before.
He turned on the lamp next to the sofa and gasped as he saw the dark smoke that swirled in the room. Fire! They had to get out.
Maybe George had forgotten to turn off a stove burner and something had caught flame. Dalton didn’t give much thought to what caused the smoke, he just knew he needed to get Janette and Sammy out, for the smoke appeared to be thickening by the second. Fire could be dangerous, but smoke was just as deadly.
He pulled on his boots, then grabbed a coat, his cell phone and car keys and hurried into the bedroom where Sammy and Janette were asleep. He turned on the overhead light and Janette stirred, but didn’t awaken.
“Janette.” He walked over to the bed and shook her shoulder with a sense of urgency. A spasm of coughing overtook him as she opened her eyes. “We need to get out of here,” he finally managed to gasp.
She didn’t ask questions, obviously aware of the imminent danger that whirled and darkened the room despite the overhead light. “I’ll get your coat,” he said. “Just grab what you need.”
As Dalton raced back through the kitchen into the small utility room where he’d hung her coat the night she’d arrived, he felt no heat beneath his feet, heard no ominous crackle of flames. But that didn’t mean they weren’t in danger.
She met him at the bedroom door, pulling her suitcase behind her and Sammy in her arms with a blanket over his head. He thought about telling her to forget the suitcase, but realized the case contained all the possessions she and Sammy had left in the world.
He grabbed the suitcase from her and motioned her toward the door that led to the interior staircase. He needed to make sure George got out as well.
Before he opened the stairwell door he felt the wood, wanting to make sure it wasn’t hot, that deadly flames weren’t already attempting to burn through. The door radiated no heat so he opened it and motioned for her to precede him down the stairs.
The smoke wasn’t as intense in the staircase, and still he could feel no heat radiating from any of the walls. But where there was smoke, there had to be a fire.
They hit the landing to the first floor and Dalton entered George’s area of the house. “Wait here,” he said to Janette as he raced through George’s living room and down the hallway to the bedroom where the old man slept.
It took him only minutes to rouse George from sleep and get his coat and shoes on him, then together they all made their way to the front door.
It wasn’t until they opened the front door to get out that Dalton’s brain fully kicked into high gear. “Wait,” he said urgently before Janette ran outside.
His mind whirled with suppositions. Brandon Sinclair had burned down Janette’s grandmother’s place. This evening he’d come to ask if Janette was here. Was it possible Sinclair hadn’t believed Dalton when he’d said he didn’t know Janette? Was it out of the question that he’d set a fire to try to smoke her out?
“Janette, my truck is in the driveway. I’m going out first and when I get outside you run for the truck. George, you come out after Janette.” He released the lock on his gun, knowing he might have to provide cover for her if Sinclair was outside.
He
