Shotgun Bride. Leann Harris
gave his office number.
“I’ll give you a call in a week, tell you what I’ve turned up.”
“There’s one more thing I want you to do. I want you to do a thorough investigation of my fiancée, Renee Girouard.”
Grey paused. “Is there something you suspect that I might need to know about?”
“No, but I don’t want any surprises from ex-boyfriends or friends claiming they know about a scandal, once everyone knows about her inheritance. I want to be able to stop any sort of blackmail cold, with facts.”
Grey took down the essential facts on Renee’s life. “I’ll look into it.”
Hawk hung up the phone. He hoped Grey could turn up a lead. They were due for a break.
Renee glanced up from her desk to see Hawk standing in the doorway of her office. Her breath caught, and her stomach fluttered. She ought not to have this schoolgirl reaction every time she saw the man.
“It’s time to quit,” he commented.
“Since when did you become the time monitor?”
He quietly closed the door and walked to her desk. “Since you got shot.”
It was an ugly truth that she didn’t want to think about. “Have you talked to Detective Ashcroft today?”
“Yeah, we talked. They were able to dig a slug out of the garage wall. It was sent to the lab, but I wouldn’t hope for too much. It was mangled.”
The door opened. “Renee, here’s the—” Jackie Francis, Emory’s secretary, stopped when she saw Hawk. A grin curved her mouth. “I hear congratulations are in order, Matthew.”
“Emory told you?”
“I made the wedding arrangements.”
“Thanks, Jackie.”
“I will say when Emory asked me to make the arrangements, I couldn’t believe it.” The fifty-year-old grandmother shook her head. “Not after that girl in accounting went out with you last year. She said you were very adamant about no commitments.”
Hawk folded his arms over his chest, and a shuttered look entered his eyes. Renee was sure many a suspect had gotten that glare from Hawk, and it had probably broken them. Now he probably used it when questioning witnesses in the courtroom. It didn’t seem to faze Jackie.
After an uncomfortable silence, Renee asked, “Jackie, what was it you wanted?”
“Oh, here’s the report you asked for. Margaret down in accounting wasn’t too happy about doing it.”
“Tell her thanks for her work.”
Jackie smiled at Renee. “Just ignore Mr. I’m-the-Toughest-Guy-on-the-Block. I saw him with chicken pox. He’s human.” With that parting shot, she sailed into the hall.
A smile tugged at the corner of Renee’s mouth. She glanced at him and saw him scowling at the doorway.
“Chicken pox? How old were you?”
“Twenty. You ready to leave?”
“I’ll be ready once I lock my filing cabinet.” Within minutes they were walking out of the building. As they passed an open office, Stacy and Todd, Emory’s niece and nephew, emerged from the interior.
“Hawk, what are you doing here?” Stacy asked. Her gaze narrowed, going from Hawk to Renee.
“I’m picking Renee up after the shooting incident the other night.”
Stacy glanced at the gauze on Renee’s temple. “I heard about the incident. There was a lot of talk about it today. Sorry I haven’t been down to check on you. I’ve been busy.” The excuse was thin.
“Thank you,” Renee replied.
“Did they discover who did it?” Todd asked.
“Nothing so far,” Hawk informed him.
“Do you have any idea why someone would shoot at you?” Stacy asked.
“That’s the question the police are reviewing,” Hawk explained. They all started toward the elevator.
“Are you coming to the shindig Saturday night?” Todd asked Renee.
“Uh—yes, I’ll be there,” Renee answered. She wasn’t looking forward to announcing to Emory’s family that she was his daughter. She already knew that Stacy and Todd felt she was trying to get too close to Emory.
The elevator doors opened, and they all filed in. A tense silence reigned as the car descended to the first floor.
“We’ll see you for sure Saturday,” Todd called out as they walked out of the building.
“It’s not something I’m looking forward to,” Hawk grumbled under his breath.
It was a sentiment Renee shared.
Chapter 3
“As they approached Renee’s apartment, the door to the unit below hers opened. Hawk tensed and reached for his gun which he had started carrying again, then stopped when he saw the elderly woman emerge and walk toward them.
“Matthew Hawkins, what a pleasure to see you.” Cora Atkins was the grandam of the complex and had lived in Houston since the early forties. Her tales of the city before air-conditioning kept all the recent immigrants to the area in awe, especially in the summer when the temperature often went over one hundred degrees for days at a stretch.
“Why, just last Sunday I asked Renee about you.” Cora looked at the hanging garment bag slung over Hawk’s shoulder, then at Renee. “Do you want to tell me something?” she asked, anticipation coloring her face.
Hawk leaned over and brushed a kiss across her wrinkled cheek. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, Miss Atkins.”
Cora glanced at Renee, then whispered, “Are you marrying this fine young man?”
Renee arched her eyebrow and nodded to Hawk. “I am, but you need to keep it a secret until after Saturday night. We plan to surprise people.”
A twinkle entered Cora’s eyes. “I won’t tell anyone.” She rubbed her hands together.
“Also, Miss Atkins,” Hawk added, “there might be some people sneaking around here, looking for Renee. Reporters, you know. If you see anyone, you be sure and tell us. Or call HPD.”
“I’ll do it.” Cora leaned toward Renee and patted her on the arm. “Didn’t I tell you, my dear, that he’d be back?” Cora turned to Hawk. “She looked so troubled and lost when you weren’t here. But I assured her that any man who looked at a woman the way you looked at her—” her eyebrows wagged “—would be back. All she had to do was wait.”
Hawk didn’t know who was more shocked at the speech Cora delivered, Renee or him.
Cora nodded. “I’ll get out of your way so you can finish moving into the apartment. Congratulations,” she whispered as she walked past them toward the mailboxes.
Cora’s words were as effective as a shock grenade thrown between them. After a moment of silence Renee started toward her apartment. He followed.
She had her key in the lock when he reached out and stopped her. Her gaze flew to him.
“Let me go in first.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I’m being overly cautious. Humor me.” He stood with his hand out, waiting for her to give him the key.
Her embarrassment turned to worry. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. Hawk handed her his garment bag, then unsnapped the gun holster at his waist. He wasn’t going to be caught unaware again. Opening the