Don't Mess With Texas by Christie Craig Page A

reply, and he hoped that was because she knew he was right, too. But something about the tilt of her chin said she hadn’t completely thrown in the towel, so he continued. “The only suspect that might trump one of those other situations is the person who was heard making physical threats to the victim. And damn, I think you were heard not once, but twice saying you wanted to kill him.”
    “I didn’t mean it. I would never…” She pressed her palms against her eye sockets and moaned. “I use live mousetraps. I can’t even kill a rodent.”
    “Really? By damn, make sure you tell that to the police,” he said, and cut his eyes upward.
    Her shoulders dropped in what he hoped was resignation.
    “I already did.” She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her sheet-covered legs. “He wasn’t too impressed.”
    Dallas almost laughed, imagining his brother’s reaction. Especially because if there was one thing Tony hated, it was mice.
    “I’m not a killer,” she said. “Was I mad at my ex? Yes. And not just about him leaving me to pay the bill, but about… other stuff.”
    “What other stuff?”
    She hesitated.
    “It’s all going to come out sooner or later,” he insisted.
    She let go of a breath. “A year ago, I caught him having sex with my part-time help on my office sofa.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip.
    “Ouch. What did you do?”
    “Fired her. Divorced him. And got rid of the sofa.”
    He grinned. “Bet you miss the sofa.”
    “Actually, I do.” She frowned.
    Dropping her head on her knees, she stayed like that for several minutes.
    She finally raised her head. “I didn’t kill him,” she repeated.
    He held up his hand. “You don’t have to convince me, Nikki. I believe you.” The moment he said it, he realized it was true. He believed her. Just like he believed Nance was innocent. “But when the cops and the DA look at this, I’m not so sure they’ll see it my way. Not that theiropinions are the end-all. The million-dollar question is: Do you think a jury of twelve of your peers will believe you?”
    She stared at him, and he could see the doubt building in her eyes. “I’m not going to wake up and find out this is all a dream, am I?”
    “Afraid not. This is a big mess you’ve got yourself into. The only thing that could make this case worse is if you’re the beneficiary of your ex-husband’s life insurance.”
    She blinked. “I think he changed that. Oh, hell, I don’t know if he did.”
    Dallas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the bed. “Boyfriend?”
    “Huh?” she asked.
    “Do you have a boyfriend who maybe wanted to get back at your ex?”
    “No,” she said.
    “Seriously?” He couldn’t see someone like her not having men at her doorstep.
    “Seriously.”
    “Lover?” he asked, not accepting that she didn’t have some guy warming her sheets at night.
    “I said I don’t have a boyfriend.”
    “And I asked if you had a lover.”
    Her soft blond brows puckered ever so slightly. “And those are different, how?”
    Damn, she was one of those women who looked cute when they got their feathers ruffled. He opened his mouth to explain the difference between casual sex and a relationship, knowing it would ruffle her some more, but he stopped. No doubt, Nikki knew the difference. She just didn’t consider but one an option.
    And what a shame. He continued to stare at her. “You need me, Nikki.”
    “Because I don’t have a boyfriend?” she asked, her eyes tightening.
    “No, because you’re up to your pretty little eyebrows in trouble.”
    She let go of a deep breath and said, “How many paintings?”
    Relief brought his smile back. “Maybe we should wait and see how much time I have to put into the case.” In truth, he didn’t give a flying flip about her paintings. The only reason he’d suggested it was because he sensed she had too much pride to accept his help for free. She could be painting Elvis on velvet