Page 95 of Concrete Evidence
“Is it my company you want or—?”
Avery stepped in front of him and kissed him. She tasted of toothpaste and tenderness. Sweet and sassy.
And he wanted more.
In the pale light coming from the stables in the distance, Marc held her with one hand and drank in a long kiss that tasted better than the first sip of coffee any day.
54
AVERY HAD NEVER BEEN SO BOLD WITH A MAN.But after last night and fearing Marc might be hurt or worse, she’d shaken off more of her introverted, cautious self.
“I don’t want to talk about this. Something I had to do.” She stepped back. “You scared me to death last night.”
“I’d have scared you sooner if I’d known this would happen.”
She blinked for control. “Why didn’t you ask me to help?”
“Because you’re not trained law enforcement.”
“I’m volunteering to protect my home and those I care about.”
“The FBI looks at protection differently.” The glimmer of a smile emerged.
“Marc, I realized something early this morning.”
“You can’t resist me?”
“No. Well, maybe. Seriously, Jake might be the man I saw on the motorcycle in Houston. Noting his body build make me think so.But I don’t recall any hair sticking out from under his helmet. Is there a way he might confess?”
“Possibly. If he pulled the trigger on Liam, he knows who else is involved. Cutting a deal for the name of the kingpin goes a long way in ending the crimes.” Marc held her hand and stared toward the stables. “Craig fired him and because he’d allegedly abused a horse. But since Craig is missing, he might have stumbled onto the answers we need, and Drendle eliminated him. After breakfast, I’ll pay him a visit.”
“I’d like to come too. Confirming his voice takes this all farther down the road.”
“Okay. A deputy will be with him at the hospital.”
They walked on to the stables, and he released her hand. Good idea when gossip might put him in bad light with the FBI. The closer they moved to the ranch hands, the harder she tried to paste an everything-will-be-okay smile on her face. Her heart told her she failed.
Marc greeted four men readying for the day. “Do any of you have family or friends who are in the path of Hurricane Braxton?”
“Yes, sir, but they’ve taken to higher ground.” JC drank coffee from a metal cup and leaned his lanky frame against a horse stall like a cowboy from the 1800s.
“Good. This could be serious and better safe than trapped by floodwaters.”
“The senator’s truck is here,” JC said with a nod of his wide-brimmed hat. “Is he back at the ranch?”
“For now. I’m keeping him inside as much as I can.”
“Don’t hold your breath. Like lassoing a twister, but we’ll do our best.” He nodded his point. “What about Craig?”
“Hasn’t turned up yet.” Marc panned his gaze over the small group. “Anyone seen him?” They responded in the negative. “I’m sure you want to know about the excitement last night.” Marc relayed spotting a shooter with a laser, bringing him down, and the identity.
“Jake? You’ve got to be kidding.” Will’s dark hair spilled over his ears, and his voice held a Spanish accent. “Has he been charged with the killings? Messin’ with the dam?”
“He’s in custody. I’m headed there this morning.”
“Somebody ought to put a bullet in him.” Will huffed.
“I did.” Marc paused. “Make sure you men ride in pairs. This isn’t over yet.”
