leather suitcase. “If you have to get in touch with me, call my cell phone and leave a message for me to call, nothing more. And keep an eye on her. So far, she’s been pretty cooperative, but that could change. And keep her safe. I really want to make this case.”
While Jace opened the passenger door, Reese turned and stowed the suitcase in the cargo space at the rear of his truck. He turned back just in time to come face-to-face with the witness as she got out of the car. He stared, and she stared back. Even with the hat shadowing her face, he could see she was stunned—though no more than he.
Neely Madison. Criminal defense lawyer. Former friend. Former lover. And Reese’s worst nightmare.
She looked as incredible as ever—tall, slender, perfect. Underneath the straw hat that sported a giant sunflower, a few strands of silky light brown hair parted across her forehead. Her eyes were brown, too, and too big for her face, giving her an innocent-waif look…but looks were often deceiving. There was nothing innocent or waifish about her. Nothing perfect about her, either.
Clenching his jaw, he pulled the suitcase out and dropped it to the ground with enough force to scuff the expensive leather. He slammed the door hard enough to rock the truck, then headed for the driver’s side.
Before he reached the door, Jace grabbed his arm. “Come on, Reese, you agreed—”
“Only because I didn’t know it was her. And you didn’t tell me because you knew I’d say no.”
“You can’t walk away. Her life is in danger. Someone’s trying to kill her!”
Reese jerked his arm free and faced his cousin. “Good! I wish him luck.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Breathing in short, controlled puffs, Reese stared stonily at Jace. Did he wish Neely was dead? He wished he’d never met her, wished he’d never touched her, never wanted her, never needed her. Hell, he wished she’d never been born…but that was a whole different matter from wishing her dead.
And not wanting her dead was a whole different matter from risking his own life to keep her safe.
Well aware that she could hear him from the other side of the truck, Reese coldly, flatly said, “Don’t bet on it.” Then his anger surged again. “Why in hell didn’t you tell me it was her this morning? It would have saved us all the trip. And why did you think I’d give a damn about keeping her safe? After everything that happened, everything she did—”
“Because I know you.”
“Not well enough. Not if you think I’d agree to this.”
For one long moment after another, they stared at each other. Reese was only faintly aware of a bee buzzing nearby, of the sun’s heat beating down and the sweat that trickled down his spine. He was all too aware of Neely, seen from the corner of his eye, still standing at the sedan’s door, one hand gripping the hot metal, that silly, floppy hat unmoving. He scowled at Jace, who scowled back just as fiercely.
It was Jace who broke the silence. His words were reasonable, his tone aggravated, his expression belligerent. “I asked you for help in protecting a witness, and you agreed. You can’t back out now. It’s not my fault you didn’t ask the pertinent questions. We had an agreement, bubba. Now you have to honor it.”
“I assumed you’d offered the pertinent information.”
“You know what they say about assuming things,” Jace said mildly. Then he sighed and lowered his voice. “You’re right. I figured you’d try to say no if you knew up front that it was Neely. That’s why I didn’t tell you. But I also know you’re professional enough to not let your personal feelings interfere with your job. Regardless of how you feel about her or what happened between you two in the past, she’s the victim of a crime. And you’re a cop, and you’ll do your damnedest to keep her safe.”
Reese shook his head. “Bring me a thief, a hooker or a murderer, and I’ll do what I can. Bring me a real victim, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect ’em. But not her. She’s not a victim—she turns other people into victims—and damned if I’ll do anything that makes it possible for her to continue destroying lives.”
“Get over it, Reese,” Jace said scornfully. “It was nine years ago, and it wasn’t her fault.”
Nine years. He said it as if it were a lifetime, and in a way, to Reese it felt like one. In other ways, it seemed as if it were just last week. He’d never forgotten the anger, the bitterness, the hurt, the shame. He’d never quite gotten over the loss and the guilt. And it was her fault. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, so convinced that she was right and everyone else was wrong, if she hadn’t been so damned unreasonable…
“If she were living in Canyon County, you’d take her into protective custody without a second thought,” Jace said accusingly.
“But she doesn’t live there. She’s not our problem.”
“She became your problem the moment you said ‘Sure, Jace, I’d be happy to help you out.’” Jace ran his fingers through his hair. “You’ve blamed her for what happened to Judy Miller for nine years. Well, bubba, if I take her back to the city and the next attempt on her life succeeds, you’ll be far more responsible for that than she ever was for Miller. Do you want to live with that on your conscience?”
Reese wanted to shrug, to reply that it made no difference to him. He wanted to climb into his truck, drive away and never give this meeting—or Neely—another thought. He wanted to go back to the moment he’d answered the phone that morning and say “Sorry, Jace, don’t have the manpower, don’t have the budget, can’t help you.”
Well, he couldn’t go back in time, but he could drive away and leave his cousin and Neely standing there. And what if he did? What if Jace took her back to the city and she was killed? He would be responsible, because he could have guaranteed her safety but had refused. It would prove he was no better, no more honorable, than she was.
And he needed to be better than she was.
But to have her back in his life, living temporarily in his house, bringing back all the bad memories and nightmares, making his present as damned impossible as his past…. Did he need anything that badly?
It was an effort to unclench his jaw, to force out words he didn’t want to say. “Only until you find another place for her. Today and tomorrow. That’s all you get. If she’s still here then, she’s going in the Canyon County jail.”
Jace looked as if he wanted to argue, but knew better. Instead he nodded grimly. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have something set up. Thanks, bubba.”
For a moment Reese simply stared at the hand his cousin offered, then grudgingly shook hands with him, then hugged him. “Today and tomorrow. And don’t think I don’t mean it.” After releasing Jace, he climbed into the truck, started the engine and turned the air conditioner to high. He refused to look as Jace approached Neely, and he rolled up the window so he wouldn’t have to hear their conversation. He couldn’t believe his cousin—his best friend, the closest thing he had to a brother—had put him in this mess, couldn’t believe he’d just agreed to take Neely Madison, of all people, into his home.
He was a better cousin and friend than Jace deserved.
Either that, or a damned fool.
