The Rancher Bodyguard. Carla Cassidy
“Probably,” Charlie replied dryly. “You can’t really believe that Hope killed William.”
“Right now, I’m just in the information-gathering mode. After I have all the information I need, then I can decide if I have a viable suspect or not.”
Zack had only been sheriff for less than a year, but Charlie knew he was a truth seeker and not a town pleaser. He would look for justice, not make a fast arrest in order to waylay the fears of the people in Cotter Creek. But if all the evidence pointed to Hope, Zack would have no choice but to arrest her.
“I heard you were working for Dalton,” Zack said.
Dalton was Zack’s brother and ran the family business, West Protective Services, an agency that provided bodyguard services around the country.
“I told him I’d be interested in helping out whenever he needed me,” Charlie replied. “But I need to get this situation under control before I do anything else.”
“Then let’s do it,” Zack said. He headed down the hallway toward Hope’s room and Charlie followed close behind.
Dr. Dell met them at her door, his arms crossed over his chest like a mythical guardian of a magical jewel. “I know you have a job to do here, Sheriff, but so do I. She’s still very weak, so I want this interview to be short and sweet.”
Zack nodded, and the doctor stepped away. Grace’s eyes narrowed slightly as Zack and Charlie entered the room. She sat next to the bed, where Hope was awake.
The kid looked sick and terrified as her gaze swept from Charlie to Zack. “Hope, you remember Zack West, the sheriff,” Grace said. “And Charlie is here as your lawyer.”
Hope’s eyes widened, and Charlie had a feeling she hadn’t realized just what kind of trouble she was in until this moment. Tears filled her eyes and she reached for her sister’s hand.
“I want to ask you some questions,” Zack said. He pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket and set it on the nightstand next to the bed. “You mind if I turn this on?”
Hope looked wildly at Charlie, who nodded his assent. Charlie stood next to Grace, trying to ignore the way her evocative scent made him remember the pleasure of making love with her and how crazy he’d been about her.
He couldn’t think about that now—he knew he shouldn’t think about that ever again. He couldn’t go back and change the past and that terrible mistake he’d made. All he could do was step up right now and hopefully redeem himself just a little bit.
“I told her about William,” Grace said to Zack, her chin lifted in a gesture of defiance. “She knows he was murdered but insists she had nothing to do with it.”
A knot of tension formed in Zack’s jaw. “I need to hear from her what happened today,” he said, and focused his gaze on Hope. “What’s the first thing you remember from this morning?”
Hope raised a trembling hand to her head and rubbed her temples. “I woke up around nine and went downstairs to get some breakfast. Nobody was around. It was Lana’s day off, and I figured William was still in bed. Lately he’d been sleeping in longer than usual.”
She stopped talking as tears once again filled her blue eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I just don’t understand any of this. Why would somebody do this to him? What happened to me?”
“So, you made yourself breakfast, then what did you do?” Zack asked, seemingly unmoved by her tears.
Grace’s lips were a thin slash, and her pretty features were taut with tension. Several more strands of her shiny blond hair had escaped her barrette and framed her face.
Charlie was surprised to realize he wanted to do something, anything to erase that apprehensive look on her face, to alleviate the tortured shadows in her eyes.
“After I ate breakfast, I was still tired, so I went back to bed,” Hope replied. “And I woke up here.” Her features crumbled. “I don’t know what happened to William. I don’t know what happened to me.” She began to cry in earnest, deep, wrenching sobs.
Grace got up from her chair and put her arms around Hope’s slender shoulders and glared at Zack as if he were personally responsible for all the unhappiness on the entire planet.
“Isn’t this enough?” she asked, those blue eyes of hers filled with anger. “Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”
Unfortunately, Charlie knew that Zack was just getting started. “Grace, let’s just get this over with,” he said. “Zack has to question her sooner or later. We might as well get it finished now. We’ll give her a minute to pull herself together.”
Zack waited until Hope calmed down a bit before asking about any tensions between her and William and probing her about any fights her stepfather might have had with anyone else.
Charlie protested only a couple of times when he thought the questions Zack asked might incriminate Hope if she answered.
Despite Charlie’s efforts to protect Hope, what little information Zack got from the girl offered no alternative suspect and merely added to the mystery of what exactly happened in the Covington mansion that morning.
After an hour and a half of questioning, it was Grace who finally called a halt to the interrogation. “That’s enough for tonight, Zack,” she said firmly, as she rose from her chair. “Hope is exhausted. She isn’t going anywhere. If you have more questions for her, you can ask them another time.”
Zack nodded and reached over and turned off the tape recorder, then slipped the small device into his pocket. “I’ll be in touch. I guess I don’t have to tell you and Hope not to leave town.”
“Innocent people don’t leave town,” she replied vehemently.
Zack left the room and Grace leaned over her sister. “We’re going to go now, honey. We need to take care of some things. Nobody will bother you for the rest of the night. Just get some sleep and try not to worry. Charlie is going to fix all this, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Charlie nearly groaned out loud. Sure, that was easy for her to say. But he was a defense attorney turned rancher, not a miracle worker.
They left the room together, and once out in the hallway Grace slumped against the polished wall. For the first time since arriving at his ranch, she looked lost and achingly fragile.
His need to touch her—to somehow chase away that vulnerable look in her eyes—was incredibly strong. “Do you need a hug?” The ridiculous words were out of his mouth before he’d realized he was going to say them.
She released a bitter laugh and shoved off the wall. “I’d rather hug a rattlesnake,” she said thinly.
If he had any question about the depth of her dislike for him, her curt reply certainly answered it.
“It doesn’t look good, does it?” she asked.
“It doesn’t look great,” he replied.
“So what happens now?” she inquired, as they continued down the hallway to the hospital’s front doors.
“Nothing for now. Questioning Hope is only the beginning. We really won’t know how much trouble she’s in until Zack’s completed his investigation into the murder.”
They stepped out into the unusually warm spring night air, and again he caught a whiff of her sweet floral scent. He wanted to ask her if she was dating anyone, if she’d found love with somebody else in the eighteen months since they’d been together.
He reminded himself he had no right to know anything about her personal life, that he’d given up any such right the night he’d gotten drunk and fallen into bed with a woman whose name he couldn’t even remember.
“I don’t want to wait for Zack,” she said. “I want us to investigate this