“And, that’s all you know? I’m not going to learn something else on this tape? They’ll go easier on you if—”
“That’s all I know,” she snapped.
He looked over at her answering machine. His gaze lowered, then froze. Leaning down, he picked up her gardening boots from under the end table. He turned them over. A clod of dirt from the church garden dropped onto her carpet. He stared.
She frowned, a little unnerved. “Don’t tell me. Boot fetish?”
The cop stared at her. “Did you wear these to see your brother today?”
“No.”
“They found boot prints at the prison, in the flowerbed where the gun was planted. When I take these in to be checked, the guys in the lab will know if they match,” he warned.
Macy clenched her jaw, furious, though unsure why his suspicions bothered her so much. Then understanding dawned: she’d been the one with reasons to distrust him, and she’d pushed those reasons aside. Had he? No.
“Take the boots. Have them tested,” she snapped. “But when those size sixes don’t match, I can promise—”
A resounding knock on the door brought both of them bolting from the sofa.
Baldwin stared at her. “Expecting anyone?” His hand reached inside his shirt and drew out a weapon.
“No!” She hurtled between him and the door. “Put the gun away.”
“Move aside,” he ordered. His focus stayed on the door.
“I’m not going to let you shoot my brother.”
“I won’t shoot unless—”
“No!” More tears threatened. Just like her mom. She hated it. “Let me answer. You can stand beside me. I just…I don’t want Billy hurt. He’s not a bad kid. Even if he’s done some things wrong, he—”
The knock sounded again.
“Please,” she begged.
The policeman wavered. “Ask who it is.”
Macy stepped closer to the door.
“Wait!” He pulled her back into the living room from the hall and whispered, “Ellie said Tanks threatened to kill Billy’s sister. That’s you. This could be Tanks.”
“And it could be Billy,” she snapped. She tried pulling free, but he held on. “Let me answer!”
“Calm down,” he said in her ear. “Ask who it is.”
She took a deep breath. “Who is it?” she said. The knocking thudded harder. “He can’t hear me.” She looked back at the door. “Who is it?” she yelled, and prayed her brother would answer—prayed Baldwin wouldn’t hurt him.
The knocking stopped. Baldwin released her. The doorknob rattled, and from the corner of her eye she saw Sergeant Baldwin raise his gun.
“No!” she screamed.
“Mace?” a deep voice called from outside the house.
The timbre of the voice filled Macy’s ears. It rang all sorts of bells—familiar bells, though not Billy ones.
“Is it your brother?” Baldwin asked.
“No.” Her mind tried unsuccessfully to wrap around the voice.
“Mace?” the man called again from outside. “I heard what happened.”
Recognition hit. It hit with a resounding thud. Not a positive thud, either, but an ex-husband, cheating-louse kind of thud. She looked back at Baldwin, gun drawn.
“What the hell,” she said. “Go ahead and shoot.”
C HAPTER F IVE
Shoot? Had he heard right? Jake latched an arm around Macy Tucker’s abdomen. “Who is it?” he growled.
She looked up. “My husband.”
He jerked his arm back. “You’re married?” While he hadn’t meant the hold to be personal, it suddenly felt personal—at least too personal for a married woman.
“We’re divorced,” she said.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Then I think the correct terminology is ex -husband.”
“Didn’t I say that?” She stared at the door.
Jake shook his head. “No. You didn’t.” He didn’t have a clue why the thought of her being married made him flinch, but…Oh, hell. Yes, he did know why. Macy Tucker, ball buster and conniving twit, had snagged his interest the moment he laid eyes on her. Lust at first sight. It had been too long since he’d felt real lust. Too long since
“That’s all I know,” she snapped.
He looked over at her answering machine. His gaze lowered, then froze. Leaning down, he picked up her gardening boots from under the end table. He turned them over. A clod of dirt from the church garden dropped onto her carpet. He stared.
She frowned, a little unnerved. “Don’t tell me. Boot fetish?”
The cop stared at her. “Did you wear these to see your brother today?”
“No.”
“They found boot prints at the prison, in the flowerbed where the gun was planted. When I take these in to be checked, the guys in the lab will know if they match,” he warned.
Macy clenched her jaw, furious, though unsure why his suspicions bothered her so much. Then understanding dawned: she’d been the one with reasons to distrust him, and she’d pushed those reasons aside. Had he? No.
“Take the boots. Have them tested,” she snapped. “But when those size sixes don’t match, I can promise—”
A resounding knock on the door brought both of them bolting from the sofa.
Baldwin stared at her. “Expecting anyone?” His hand reached inside his shirt and drew out a weapon.
“No!” She hurtled between him and the door. “Put the gun away.”
“Move aside,” he ordered. His focus stayed on the door.
“I’m not going to let you shoot my brother.”
“I won’t shoot unless—”
“No!” More tears threatened. Just like her mom. She hated it. “Let me answer. You can stand beside me. I just…I don’t want Billy hurt. He’s not a bad kid. Even if he’s done some things wrong, he—”
The knock sounded again.
“Please,” she begged.
The policeman wavered. “Ask who it is.”
Macy stepped closer to the door.
“Wait!” He pulled her back into the living room from the hall and whispered, “Ellie said Tanks threatened to kill Billy’s sister. That’s you. This could be Tanks.”
“And it could be Billy,” she snapped. She tried pulling free, but he held on. “Let me answer!”
“Calm down,” he said in her ear. “Ask who it is.”
She took a deep breath. “Who is it?” she said. The knocking thudded harder. “He can’t hear me.” She looked back at the door. “Who is it?” she yelled, and prayed her brother would answer—prayed Baldwin wouldn’t hurt him.
The knocking stopped. Baldwin released her. The doorknob rattled, and from the corner of her eye she saw Sergeant Baldwin raise his gun.
“No!” she screamed.
“Mace?” a deep voice called from outside the house.
The timbre of the voice filled Macy’s ears. It rang all sorts of bells—familiar bells, though not Billy ones.
“Is it your brother?” Baldwin asked.
“No.” Her mind tried unsuccessfully to wrap around the voice.
“Mace?” the man called again from outside. “I heard what happened.”
Recognition hit. It hit with a resounding thud. Not a positive thud, either, but an ex-husband, cheating-louse kind of thud. She looked back at Baldwin, gun drawn.
“What the hell,” she said. “Go ahead and shoot.”
C HAPTER F IVE
Shoot? Had he heard right? Jake latched an arm around Macy Tucker’s abdomen. “Who is it?” he growled.
She looked up. “My husband.”
He jerked his arm back. “You’re married?” While he hadn’t meant the hold to be personal, it suddenly felt personal—at least too personal for a married woman.
“We’re divorced,” she said.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Then I think the correct terminology is ex -husband.”
“Didn’t I say that?” She stared at the door.
Jake shook his head. “No. You didn’t.” He didn’t have a clue why the thought of her being married made him flinch, but…Oh, hell. Yes, he did know why. Macy Tucker, ball buster and conniving twit, had snagged his interest the moment he laid eyes on her. Lust at first sight. It had been too long since he’d felt real lust. Too long since
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