the only set of pajamas he owned. He heard the water and went to the storage closet on the back porch for the cot and to start her laundry—right after he removed his wet uniforms and shoved them in the dryer.
The bathroom window was open a crack, and a “blast it that’s hot” floated through along with a “right about one thing” from Megan.
“What’s the deal with her, huh, Junior?” he asked the bloodhound on the other side of the chain-link fence.
Jack leaned against the porch post, watching the old hound do his business and creep back through the dog door he’d installed for Mrs. Dennis a couple of years ago. He didn’t have an opinion one way or the other about trouble appearing on his doorstep. Life had been simple for the last several years. At least his life.
Now, Wade’s, on the other hand, was one complicated mission after another where only he knew the agenda. Why or what his partner was punishing himself for, Jack didn’t know. And Wade would never say.
There was one thing for certain. If Jack’s partner was going out completely on his own again, there’d be hell to pay. The Rangers didn’t operate that way. Sure, they were invited to help with cases all the time, but their superiors decided those cases. The secretiveness about Megan Harper had trouble written all over it.
“What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into, Megan?” she asked herself in the tub. Her voice was nice and alto deep.
Smooth enough that he wouldn’t get tired of listening to it. He should probably go back inside instead of hoping she’d spill why someone was trying to kill her.
There was plenty of time to figure things out in the morning with a cup of caffeine so everything made sense.
* * *
STAKEOUTS HAD PREPARED Jack for sleeping on any surface for any short amount of time possible. Four years later and the training still kicked in when needed. Late nights on assignment, helping a small-town sheriff or chasing after his partner, who was only an arm’s reach from trouble when left on his own.
He’d done his best to convince Megan, but she’d chosen the cot stretched across the bedroom door. He didn’t think she’d managed any real sleep at all. She’d tossed all night long. So much, in fact, that Jack had debated waking her up to insist she take the bed. But he doubted she would have slept soundly anywhere.
Megan had cried in her sleep—sort of whimpering, as if she was having a nightmare. Her eyes were still closed when he pulled a T-shirt on, lifted her from the cot and tucked her under his blanket. He’d waited several minutes before sneaking out of the bedroom.
Tonight she’d be in his bed. Period.
“Hell, I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud to her.” He flipped the switch on the coffee maker and waited within sight of his bedroom door.
There wasn’t any way for him to get out of the homecoming meeting. He was the one who needed to confirm the parade route and who would be in charge at the beginning and end. He ended his one-sided debate knowing that Megan would have to go with him.
Clicking on the TV, he texted his sister about borrowing women’s clothes and sat in his chair to drink his coffee. Just like he did most mornings. There wasn’t much of a routine to follow or disrupt when he was home. Simple life in a simple town. He’d just slurped when the news program splashed a picture of his houseguest in full-screen fifty-seven-inch HD glory.
He spewed. Coffee went everywhere, including up his nose. It wasn’t pleasant and the rest was nearly in his lap as he read the accompanying scrolling headline.
“Hell’s bells. What is Wade thinking?”
“Is everything all right?” Megan came hurrying into the room, shoving her hair away from her face. “Oh my God. They’re using all three of my names as if I’m a serial killer.”
Ticking across the bottom of the screen was a limited account of a man being shot in Dallas last night, allegedly by TDI Intelligence Analyst Megan Lilly Harper.
It registered, even if only for a fraction of a second, that the robe she’d slept in was now open. It was hanging loose over the long T-shirt he’d given her and showing the well-toned body he’d done his best to ignore more than once.
They both listened as the news report recounted events from the previous evening in Austin. The little bulletin strip kept running Megan’s name and that she was wanted for questioning by state authorities.
“Rethinking that promise not to betray me?” Megan asked.
“Actually...no. I was with you yesterday, so I know you’re being framed.”
“Where are my clothes? I’ll get dressed and we can go clear this up.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Megan. They have witnesses, too.” Damn. “Who the heck do you work for, and what’s an intelligence analyst?”
“The Texas Department of Insurance, and I work for the State Fire Marshal’s Office. Our agency is a part of TDI. ‘Intelligence analyst’ sounds a lot more dramatic than it actually is. I gather information about fires and—” she shrugged “—analyze it.”
“The news is making it sound like you’re a spy or something.”
She shook her head, her long brown hair framing her face, hiding her expression. “Oh, no. Seriously, most of my job is in a cubicle. I have no idea why anyone wants to frame me for murder.”
No idea? She was holding back why, and he knew it. “They have eyewitnesses.”
“So do I, and mine’s a Texas Ranger. I mean, if you need an alibi, I have a great one.” She shoved her hair back behind her tanned face, then dropped her palm against the bare skin of her thigh. “Look, I don’t know what’s up, but you know I didn’t do this. Whoever’s behind the murder must be using a woman who looks like me.”
“That makes sense, but I’m not the one who has to be convinced you’re telling the truth.”
“So where are my clothes? I need to rent a car and get back to Austin. I made a huge mistake leaving.”
“I don’t think you did.”
Her mouth dropped open. If he looked hard enough, he might just see her tonsils. He was fascinated with how all her emotions were just...visible. No second-guessing what this gal was feeling.
“So we’re agreed. I need my clothes.” She pulled the robe closed and tied the belt.
“First of all, they aren’t dry. I was sipping my coffee before actually doing anything. Second, there was a reason you chose not to stay. Someone drugged you and tried to abduct you. Maybe you should remember that. Third thing—I might agree that it’s gonna look like a mistake by not turning yourself in, but that doesn’t mean you need to...yet. I gave my word to keep you safe. I’m keeping it. And fourth—”
“There’s more?”
“No rental cars or taxis in Liberty Hill. Only way you’re getting back to Austin is to hitch a ride. I’m pretty sure that’s not the best way for you to travel right now.”
“For
