Smoking Hot (8 page)

But not for long. Raine needed him.

Raine's head pounded worse than hail hitting a tin roof. She reached up and ran her hand across her forehead. When her fingers brushed near her ear, she flinched. Her head was still tender. Doc had run some tests but they were negative. She had a feeling stress played a major role in why she had a headache. She hadn't been sleeping well since the night of the robbery.

Sitting at the sheriff's office most of the afternoon was not helping to get rid of the pain. What was taking the sheriff so long? He'd told her to be there around noon. She looked at the clock on his wall. It was fifteen after.

She felt as though she was living in a damn bubble and any moment it was going to pop. They still had her on a leave of absence until they finished with their investigation. Not working was driving her up a wall.

Her gaze roamed around his office—again—looking at the same travel posters that had been there since Sheriff Barnes took office: Rome, Paris, Venice, Switzerland. All the places he said he would go someday. That day hadn't come yet. He once told her people either had time or they had money. He'd laughed and said he had neither. That made two of them.

And now she might soon be doing time for a crime she didn't commit. No, if Sheriff Barnes thought she was guilty, she would already be sitting in jail. This was normal procedure. If she hadn't mentioned an angel she probably wouldn't be here.

Was she crazy? Had she only imagined a man getting shot? No, he'd felt real. He'd kissed real. Warmth spread over her. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. She'd only kissed him because she thought he was dying and that was his last wish.

He wasn't an angel, he was a manipulator. Dillon convinced Grandpa he was an angel. Maybe Dillon was the crazy one and really believed he was an angel. That would explain why he attempted to save her life. She sighed with frustration. But it didn't explain where he'd gone after being shot.

She came to her feet, legs cramping. She was tired of thinking and wanted to go home. Except no one was home. Grandpa was staying with Tilly so he would be nearby in case they wanted to question him. It was
suggested
they only have supervised contact. Were they afraid she and Grandpa would make a run for the border?

How could they be suspects? She shook her head. This all seemed unreal.

Tilly would make sure Grandpa was taken care of. Him and his new stray. It was a good thing Tilly had a fenced yard. She should be grateful Sheriff Barnes was giving them that much. He'd promised the informal investigation would only take a few days.

Her lip curled. Ethan was pushing for a trip to the mental ward so Grandpa could be watched. He said Grandpa was unstable. He was one to talk. Ethan might be lead deputy but he wasn't sheriff. The sheriff would never go for that. Grandpa was the main reason he won the election.

That might not mean a thing to him now. Sheriff Barnes had what he wanted and would probably keep getting elected until he decided to retire. She twined her fingers together. But the sheriff agreed with Ethan that Grandpa needed to stay nearby. What was going through the sheriff's mind? Did he think she was the mastermind? That Grandpa would be safer with Tilly? A sob tore from her throat as tears welled in her eyes.

Great, the last thing she needed was someone to walk in and see her crying. She rarely cried. Stay strong, stay in charge, that was her motto. Tears were a luxury she couldn't afford. Besides, it would be damned embarrassing. She turned toward the desk to grab some tissues out of the box and ran into a hard chest. Strong arms steadied her.

“Ow.” She rubbed her nose. Her eyes watered more. Where the hell had he come from? Her eyes traveled up. She blinked, her vision blurry. It couldn't be. She scrubbed the backs of her hands over her eyes. But it was.

Dillon!
Anger boiled inside her. He was the reason she was in this mess. “You! What are you doing here?” She must have really been lost in thought not to hear him enter the room.

He frowned. When people frowned they usually didn't look their best, but not this guy. A frown looked way too sexy on him. That pissed her off even more. He had no right to look that damned good when she was such a mess.

“I'm here to help,” he said. “I'll make everything right.”

“Good, you can tell them you were the one shot when the bank was robbed, then maybe everyone will stop badgering me and Grandpa.” He was still holding her arms and his touch felt a little too warm, a little too comfortable. She wiggled loose and stepped back, her gaze sweeping over him.

The deep blue shirt molded to his chest while his jeans hugged his lower half. For a brief moment, she forgot what she was about to say as she stared at him. Her senses quickly returned when she remembered why she was there in the first place. “Why aren't you dead? I know you were shot. I saw the blood.”

“I heal quickly.”

The guy actually sounded genuine. She wasn't buying his tall tale this time. “You're one of the bank robbers. This is all an elaborate scam to make everyone think me and Grandpa robbed the bank. The gun was probably loaded with blanks. Fake blood, right?” Why didn't she think of this sooner? That was the only explanation. A short bitter laugh escaped. “I have to admit, you fooled me into thinking you might be a good guy.”

“I really am an angel.”

One eyebrow shot up. “I wasn't born yesterday.” She studied him. “If you're an angel, where are your wings?”

He didn't say anything, just stared. She was right, the guy was loony. But he had the most beautiful eyes—hypnotic blue eyes. Very intense and… She drew in a deep breath and tried to remain focused, but he made it almost impossible to concentrate. “Stop staring at me.”

“You're so damned beautiful,” he said, but broke eye contact long enough for her to regain her senses.

“You say you're an angel, but you don't sound very angelic.” With a physique like his it was a damn shame Dillon would end up locked away in a mental ward for the rest of his life.

She turned as Sheriff Barnes opened the door. A tall blonde Raine didn't recognize stepped into the office behind him.

“Sorry that took so long. Now we can talk,” he said. “This is Emily Gearson, an agent with the Texas Rangers. She'll have a few questions of her own. Don't worry. This is an informal discussion. We're not accusing you or your grandfather of anything.”

His smile was kind. He wasn't that old, only thirty-seven, but he always seemed so much more mature to her. He'd been her dad's lead deputy and worked at the sheriff's office since he was eighteen—too young to buy his own bullets. He was teased, but never seemed to mind.

Raine's gaze shifted. There wasn't one thing that stood out about the woman. Short blond hair, maybe five-eight. She wore a dark jacket and black pants with a light blue shirt. Texas Ranger? She didn't look as if she would hurt a fly—until Raine met her hard blue eyes. There was nothing soft about this woman. Raine had a feeling anyone she interrogated would be in for a shock.

Ethan Miles stepped inside. “You wanted something?”

“Can you make sure we're not disturbed?” Sheriff Barnes told him rather than asked.

Raine almost smiled. Ethan being in the room made her good news all the better. “That's the man who was shot,” she said before Ethan could leave. “It was a setup.” Her smile was wide.

Sheriff Barnes looked around the room until his gaze landed on his lead deputy. “Ethan?”

The agent studied Ethan as though looking at him in a new light.

“Like hell! I was picking up some papers from Joe and I can prove it.”

“They can't see or hear me,” Dillon quickly told her. “Cover up the blunder or you'll be in the state hospital before nightfall.”

“But…” she began.

“Look at their faces,” Dillon said. “They're not looking at me, but Ethan. They think he's the man you're talking about. If they can see me, why would they look at him?”

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Of course they could see him.

“Are you feeling okay, Raine?” Sheriff Barnes turned his attention back to her. The way he looked at her was as though he was seeing
her
for the first time.

No, she wasn't feeling well at all. She drew in a deep breath. “Yes, of course, and I certainly didn't mean Ethan. He's a very…uh…good deputy.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Emily asked softly, but the glint in her eyes got a little sharper.

Fear trickled down Raine's spine. She was right about not underestimating the woman. Oh hell, she was losing her mind. Dillon was right, they would have immediately looked at him, not Ethan. Dillon couldn't be an angel! Demon, maybe, but he certainly wasn't angelic.

“I'm a nephilim,” Dillon said, sensing her turmoil. “Half angel, half man. An immortal.”

The mental institution she'd toured during her training was cold and bleak. White walls, drab brown furniture that looked like it came from a secondhand store. She rubbed her arms when cold chills popped up. She didn't want to be committed so doctors could prod and probe her.

Now everyone thought she was crazy. This was great. Just freakin' great! She drew in a deep breath and frantically searched for a way to get out of this new mess. “I didn't mean he's here at this very moment,” Raine's words stumbled out. She scrambled to find the right thing to say that would make them stop looking at her like she'd lost her marbles.

“What
did
you mean?” Ethan questioned, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

She cast a look in his direction that should've fried him on the spot but it didn't even make him uncomfortably warm. She was losing her touch.

“We can handle everything from here,” Sheriff Barnes said, then added, “Close the door on your way out.”

Ethan frowned, looked at her once more as if he always knew there was something wrong with her, then left the room.

She breathed a sigh of relief until her attention returned to Emily and the sheriff. They still wanted answers. What was she going to do? She didn't want to be locked away.

“Tell them you were thinking about the bank robbery and trying to figure it all out,” Dillon quickly said. “When they came into the room it was still on your mind.”

What did she have to lose? “I was thinking about the bank robbery and trying to figure it all out. I guess when everyone came into the room I was still lost in thought.”

“Good,” Dillon told her. “Now say that you put two and two together and you figured out it was all a setup to make people think you robbed the bank. The robber who fired the gun probably used blanks and the man who pushed you out of the way had fake blood.”

Really?
She'd told him that very same thing before the others came into the room. It was her idea, not his.

“Just say it. You can tell me later the idea was yours.”

Later? Yeah, she would certainly do that and then some, but she wasn't off the hook yet. “This is my theory.” She put emphasis on
my
and went on to explain.

“Why would someone try to set you up?” Emily asked when Raine finished.

“So you would look at me and Grandpa and spend less time looking for the real perpetrators.”

Silence filled the room. Raine studied their faces as they digested her theory. They didn't believe her. It was a far-fetched idea to begin with. If she lied and said she planned the whole thing, would they leave Grandpa alone?

“It's plausible,” Emily finally said.

Raine's heart skipped a beat.

Emily turned to Sheriff Barnes. “We have been more focused on Raine and her grandfather.” Her gaze swung back to Raine. “But how would they know you wouldn't have backup with you?”

“They probably knew what was going to happen before they robbed the bank. Ethan was only on call, not on duty. That night he was at the south end of the county. It's no secret he plays cards every Wednesday. There's no way he could get back into town before the bank robbers finished the job, and isn't it odd Leo had a flat on that night? Everyone was delayed getting to the bank.”

“She's right,” Sheriff Barnes said.

Raine could feel some of her tension easing.

“Like you say, it's one theory.” Emily's gaze met Raine's.

“You at least have them thinking about it,” Dillon said. “Nice work.”

“Of course,” Raine countered, then realized they still didn't see or hear him. She cleared her throat. “Of course that's only one theory, but it makes more sense than me taking the money.”

“Do you regret leaving Fort Worth?” Emily asked, changing the subject.

It took a moment for her brain to switch gears. “I miss a lot of things, but regret?” She shook her head. “No, I don't regret coming home. I would do anything for my grandfather.” Loyalty meant something to her. She met Emily's gaze head-on and refused to look away.

Emily finally broke the connection when she sat in the chair next to the sheriff's desk. Raine felt a brief moment of victory, but it quickly disappeared. She longed to go back to the ranch but she had a feeling Emily wasn't finished. More questions. Raine knew she should be thankful they were still at this stage and they hadn't locked her in a cell, but she wasn't feeling generous. They should have put her at the bottom of the list of suspects, not the top.

Sheriff Barnes sat in the oak chair behind the desk. The same chair her father sat in when he was sheriff. The chair was on rollers and the seat swiveled. Hank called it his lazy man's chair because he could reach just about anything he needed without getting up.

There was a familiar squeak when Sheriff Barnes turned slightly. Raine gritted her teeth as a flood of memories rushed back. Her father would lean back in the chair and cross his arms in front of him and they would talk about everything under the sun. If they were going fishing that weekend, or maybe they needed to ride the perimeter checking fences.