Page 47 of Texas Cold Case Murder

Nina’s were, too. He glanced at her. “Maybe we throw our wet clothes in the dryer. We can wrap up in sheets and blankets while waiting for them to dry.”

“I like that idea.” Her cheeks were slightly pink, but in this case, practicality won out over modesty. She hurried down the hall to the master suite. When she emerged a few minutes later, she was wrapped like a mummy. He tagged along as she went to the laundry room, dumping her clothes in the washer. “They’re too wet and a little smelly. May as well wash them.”

He nodded and disappeared into the second bedroom to change. Following her lead, he wrapped himself in a toga and added his wet clothes to hers. He added detergent and then headed into the kitchen.

Nina was making coffee. Her hair was still damp, but she looked better. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You did your part.” He had to stop himself from leaning in for a kiss. “I’m just glad I saw them approaching the property in time.”

“Creed shot one of them, huh?” Her brow furrowed. “That must be hard for you. As rangers, I mean.”

“It’s never something to take lightly.” He leaned against the counter. “We would much rather take the bad guys in alive. Impossible to interrogate a dead man.”

“Yeah.” She stared morosely at the dripping coffee. “I wish there was a way to convince my father I’m not a threat. I could care less about his oil company, or anything else for that matter.”

“That won’t work, Nina.” He kept his tone gentle. “Especially if he killed your mother. He’s facing life in prison if he pulled the trigger.”

She lifted a shoulder. “He’s not pulling the trigger now. He’s hired someone else to do his dirty work.”

“I know.” He refrained from pointing out that Douglas Tillman was rich and powerful now in a way he hadn’t been twenty-eight years ago. “We’ll figure out how to connect him to these attacks.”

Her expression held doubt, but the coffee had finished brewing, so she filled two mugs, handing him one. “Do you want me to find a new rental property?”

“Not yet.” He was leaning toward Creed’s suggestion to pay cash at a motel.

She leaned against the counter beside him. “That was my first canoe ride.”

A reluctant chuckle erupted from his chest. “Oh yeah? How did you like it?”

“It was okay until you dumped me over.” She eyed him over the rim of her mug. “That was mean.”

“I only did that to avoid getting shot.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry you’ve been through so much since this started.”

To his surprise, she leaned her head against his chest. “I’m safe with you.”

He hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to her still wet hair. She lifted her head, then leaned in for a kiss.

He barely had time to enjoy it, when the door opened. “Jackson? We have an ID.”

Nina quickly pulled away, her cheeks going adorably pink. He reluctantly turned toward Creed. “Let’s have it.”

“Guy by the name of Kirk Fletcher.” Creed was staring down at his phone as he crossed over to join them. “Doesn’t ring a bell for me, though. What about you?”

“Nope.” Jackson eyed Nina. “What do you think?”

“I only found about ten of the Tillman Oil employees.” She frowned. “That’s not one of them.”

“Rats, that doesn’t help.” He tried not to sound as discouraged as he felt.

“His name popped in the system because he has a criminal record.” Creed lifted his gaze to his. “For possession of fentanyl with intent to sell.”

“Drugs?” He narrowed his gaze. “You think he’s connected to Diego Sanchez?”

Creed shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible that one of Tillman’s employees does a little drug dealing on the side, but if you ask me, it’s more likely our dead guy was sent by Sanchez.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Nina protested. “This can’t be about your drug kingpin. It must be connected to my biological father.”

“We’re keeping an open mind about that, remember?” But even as Jackson said the words, he was just as confused by the identity of their perp as Nina.