Big Shot (8 page)

“You wouldn’t have gone there if you hadn’t suspected something was wrong. Meghan told you he was in danger. Don’t deny it. She probably sent you to warn him, but you didn’t get there in time.”

Durk worked to keep his voice calm. “You have this all wrong, Mary Nell. Meghan had no idea I was going to look for Ben. She’d been assaulted and needed emergency care to save her own life.”

“It’s still her fault. She should have realized the killer was on to her scheme.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “What scheme is that?”

“Whatever scheme Meghan had going. She was always putting herself and Ben in danger.”

Durk could all but hear the thud when they hit nowhere again. “Look, I’m really sorry about Ben, Mary Nell,” Durk said, determined not to sound defensive. He’d done nothing that needed defending. “But his death was a criminal act. The only person to blame is the one who pulled the trigger.”

Mary Nell pushed back from the table and jumped out of her chair. “Everybody always sides with Meghan, the same as Ben did. But I’m tired of staying silent. I won’t stop until I talk to every reporter in Dallas. And I’ll tell Meghan Sinclair exactly how I feel to her face.”

Not today she wasn’t, not if Durk had to physically carry her out of the hospital and escort her home. “You have every right to be distressed, but I won’t let you upset Meghan. Unless you have something to tell me about the case Meghan and Ben were working on, you need to go home and call a friend to come and stay with you.”

“I’ll tell you about the case. Ben was worried. I overheard him warn Meghan the night before to back off and let the police handle this one. She didn’t listen. She never listens.”

“What else did you hear him say?”

“I don’t remember. Something about the situation getting out of hand and it being too risky.”

Durk had no trouble believing that. Meghan would do anything to solve one of her cases, even dangle herself out there like a worm on a fishhook. He felt the old frustrations building.

“Try to remember if Ben said anything else about the case. It could help us find your husband’s killer.”

Mary Nell shuddered and sat back down. “I don’t remember. But he was upset. He hardly slept that night after talking to Meghan.”

Carolina put a hand over Mary Nell’s. “I know this is hard for you,” Carolina said, “but you need to stay strong and focused. We want to help you, but you have to tell us what Meghan was doing that was so dangerous.”

Tears filled Mary Nell’s eyes and began to stream down her cheeks. Carolina handed her one of the paper napkins in lieu of a tissue.

“I’ve begged Ben time and again to quit his job. He was going to be a father. He shouldn’t risk his life just because Meghan had a death wish.”

“Are you expecting a baby?” Carolina asked.

Mary Nell placed her hands on her stomach. “I’m almost four months pregnant,” she said through her tears and sobs. “Ben was so excited. Now he’ll never see his child.”

Carolina wrapped her arms around Mary Nell’s shoulders.

Durk’s heart went out to her, but he really needed Mary Nell to be coherent. “Did Ben mention a name? Please, think hard. Did he ever say the name of either the client who had hired him for this job or the person Meghan was tracking?”

“No.”

“Did he ever say what made this person particularly dangerous?”

“No. He never told me names or any details about his work, not until a case was closed. He claimed he wanted to protect me from the sordid situations he dealt in. He should have been protecting himself.”

Mary Nell dabbed her eyes with the napkin.

“Did Ben have a home office?” Durk asked, still hoping for some clue that would lead to the killer.

“No. He usually just worked on his laptop at the kitchen table when he had something to do for the detective agency. What work he had that wasn’t on the computer, he kept in his briefcase.”

“Where are his computer and briefcase now?”

“I don’t know. I would have thought they’d be at the office with Ben. Apparently they weren’t since Detective Smart questioned me about them, too.”

“When did you talk to him?”

“Last night, but I was so upset, I barely remember it. If I had Ben’s computer or laptop, I would have given it to Detective Smart. Police should be the ones to track down criminals.”

“But they sometimes fail,” Tague said, finally breaking into the conversation. “They did with my wife, Alexis. That’s why I hired Meghan to help us keep her safe from a killer. Meghan is very good at what she does. I’m sure Ben was, too.”

“He was good at everything,” Mary Nell said. “He was smart and kind and loving. And now he’s dead. But it should be Meghan waiting to be buried. I’ll tell her that. I swear I will.”

There would be no reasoning with Mary Nell today, but she had said enough to convince Durk that this was connected to a current case. There had to be records of the investigation, and no doubt those were the records the man had been after when he’d shot and killed Ben. That would explain the files scattered all over the office floor.

Carolina’s cell phone rang. She excused herself and took the call. When she returned she remained standing. “That was Sybil. The doctor has released her. Tague, why don’t you drive her home? Alexis, Emma and Grandma Pearl are all at the ranch. They can help take care of Sybil until I get home.”

“Where will you be?” Durk asked, though he could easily guess the answer.

“I’ll drive Mary Nell home and stay with her until her parents arrive.”

“I’m not leaving the hospital,” Mary Nell declared through another round of sobs. “Not until I see Meghan.”

“Then I’ll stay with you while you wait to see her,” Carolina said calmly. “Durk, you and Tague can go now. Mary Nell and I will be fine.”

Durk was hesitant to leave her, but he’d seen his mother in action too many times to doubt that she would get through to Mary Nell.

Carolina was a spiritual miracle worker. Even their pastor called her in when dealing with severely crushed spirits and broken hearts. Empathy was second nature to her.

Carolina sat down beside Mary Nell.

“I loved Ben so much,” Mary Nell said between sobs. “I don’t want to live without him.”

“I know,” Carolina said. “I understand completely. I lost my beloved husband, too, just over a year ago. But you have your baby to think of and part of Ben will live on through your child.”

“Mom’s amazing,” Tague said as he and Durk walked away.

“You’re right,” Durk agreed. “I know she still grieves for Dad, but sometimes I forget how close they were.”

“That’s love,” Tague said. “When it moves in, it claims your heart and soul.”

“Then you guys can keep it. I like controlling my own destiny.”

“You’ll change your tune when you get struck by Cupid—unless…”

Durk knew exactly where Tague was going with that. “Meghan Sinclair is just a friend,” he said, attempting to set the record straight.

“Keep telling yourself that, bro.”

He planned to. At some point he might even start believing it.

“I guess I better go get Aunt Sybil,” Tague said. “If I don’t, she’ll send someone to find me.”

“Right. Thanks for coming in and for the timely arrival.”

“You bet,” Tague said. “I’ll see you at the ranch whenever you get there or before if you need me.”

But what Durk needed right now was a name, and that was locked away somewhere in Meghan’s trauma-fogged memory. Hopefully the snapshots would be the key to unlocking it.

When he reached Meghan’s room, she was sound asleep. The nurse on the day shift sent him away, claiming that Meghan needed her rest.

He killed the next hour going back to the penthouse to pick up his laptop and going over everything he’d heard over the last twelve hours. He tried to imagine the train of events that had led to the attack and the murder.

Meghan was as daring and as indomitable as Mary Nell had said. He knew that as well as anybody. In most instances, it had paid off, but somehow she’d screwed up this time and allowed the killer to get the upper hand.

But why go after her with a stun gun and then go after Ben with a loaded pistol? The fact that he’d worn a mask would indicate that he’d never intended to kill her. Was the attack meant to be a threat?

But if the man had actually planned to kill her, what was to stop him from trying again?

* * *

M
EGHAN WOKE SLOWLY
, pushed through the lingering miasma and looked around. The first thing she saw was the cowboy sitting near her bed, working on his laptop. Reality gained a foothold.

“You’re back,” she murmured.

“Yes. I’ve been here for over an hour.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I was given an ultimatum by Patricia, the fire-breathing day nurse. Disturb you and I’m out of here.”

“I’ve slept enough,” Meghan said. “I need to stop floating in the clouds and become grounded.”

And to do that, she needed Durk. He was her only real bond with herself, the only person she’d communicated with since regaining consciousness who actually knew Meghan Sinclair.

“Can I get you anything?” Durk asked.

“A sip of water. My throat and my lips feel parched.”

He stood and walked around the bed to get the water, but before he got the straw to her lips, the nurse came in and took over the task.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she returned the glass to the bed tray.

“Stiff. Sore. And tired of this bed.”

Patricia raised the head of her bed so that Meghan was in a sitting position. “The doctor left orders that you can take a short walk if you feel like it.”

“That would be great.”

“The key word is
short,
” Patricia said. “Just a few doors down the hall and back again. But you’ll need someone with you to steady you if you get dizzy.”

“I can take care of that,” Durk offered.

“Okay, but take it slow with her. I don’t want my patient to exert herself too much.” She leaned over and fluffed Meghan’s pillows. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Can you tell me when I’ll be released from the hospital?”

“That, I have no control over.”

“But she has control over everything else that happens in this room,” Meghan said once Patricia was out of earshot.

“You must be getting better. I sense a power struggle here.”

“I have a feeling that when I’m not lost in la-la land, I must like being the one in control.”

Durk smiled. “I’d say that’s a fair assessment.”

He looked incredibly handsome when he smiled. It was hard to imagine she could have let him slip from her memory no matter how severe the concussion.

“Tell me about me, Durk. Not what I did for a living. Patricia’s already told me that I’m a private investigator with my own agency. She also filled me in on my parents. My parents are dead. I have a sister named Lucy. She’s married and lives in Connecticut. She wants me to call her as soon as I feel like talking.”

“Where did your nurse get all of that information?”

“Apparently Lucy has called several times today to check on me. She and Patricia have pretty much shared my life history. Patricia can’t understand why I refuse to talk to Lucy when she calls.”

“Why do you?”

“I’m just not ready.”

“Talking to her might help shake the amnesia,” Durk suggested.

“Which makes the prospect sound tempting, but no. Not yet.” This was frustrating enough without bringing a family member into the mix, someone with whom she’d shared a lifetime of vanished memories.

“Tell me some personal things about myself, Durk.”

“I thought you wanted to go for a walk.”

“That can wait a few minutes.”

“What kind of personal things would you like to know? That you like country music and have every recording George Strait ever made on your iPod? That you live with a phone in your hand? That you have a serious crush on Hugh Jackman?”

“Hugh Jackman.” She pictured him in her mind without any trouble. “
The Boy from Oz.
Wolverine. And who could forget him with Nicole Kidman in
Australia?
”

Durk’s eyebrows arched. “You remember Hugh Jackman but not your sister?”

“Evidently. Odd, isn’t it?”

“Maybe not so odd,” Durk said. “Your memory may be starting with the impersonal.”

“That makes it even more frustrating. I remember movies and plays, but not my friends and family. I remember songs, but not where I live. I remember that Christmas is on December 25, but I can’t tell you where I spent any Christmas in my life. And I don’t remember you.”

“Perhaps I’m not that memorable.”

She seriously doubted that. “Did I meet you through my business? Were you a philandering husband that I spied on for a jealous wife?”

“I’ve never had a wife.”

“Then how did we meet?”

“I attended a charity fundraiser where you were working a case and pretending to be someone you weren’t.”

“Since when do cowboys attend charity fundraisers?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ll bet.”

Durk raked his fingers through his hair and leaned in closer. “What else do you want to know?”

“What kind of person am I? Sweet and loving or bossy and demanding?”

Durk laughed out loud. “
Sweet
is definitely not the first word that comes to mind when I think about you.”

“What is?”

“Vivacious. Feisty. Professional. Sexy.”

“Are you sure you don’t have me mixed up with someone else?”

“I’m certain.”

“I don’t feel any of those things today, and I sure don’t look the part.”

“You will again. And it won’t take you long. You’re a take-charge kind of gal.”

“What’s the worst thing you can say about me? Tell me the truth. I promise I won’t get mad.”

“You break promises,” he teased. “And you take too many risks in your work.”

He didn’t sound like he was teasing with the risk accusation, but Meghan didn’t necessarily see that as a negative. “Am I good at what I do?”

“Exceptionally good.”

“Then maybe the risks are worth it.”

“You’re usually convinced that they are.”

From his tone, she’d guess he didn’t agree. “Do you think those risks led to my being attacked?”