In Too Deep Read online

  Hunter’s mind was still crowded with thoughts of Jenny as he let himself into the station. The way she’d acted, as if her brain was stalled and she was going through the motions.

  Ortega was waiting for him, pacing his office as if Hunter were already an errant employee instead of someone thinking about taking the job. “Did you see him?” he demanded, jerking his head in the direction of the front door.

  “He’s in the jeep. I’m taking him back to his home.”

  “Home.” He snorted, but he didn’t add anything further on the subject of Obie. Instead he launched into questions about Bambi. What did Hunter think of her? Did he catch her in a lie? Was she properly remorseful or full of smugness at getting away with murder?

  Hunter had no good answers for him, and his saying so just fueled Ortega’s frustration. “Tell me something I want to hear!” Ortega demanded.

  Ignoring him, Hunter asked, “Whatever happened to the guy who was stalking her?”

  “Who?” he asked automatically, then grimaced and dismissed the charge with a wave of his hand. “You fell for that crap?”

  “She said she was scared of the guy.”

  “Lady with six bullets to drill into her old man? C’mon!” Ortega gazed at him almost pityingly, as if-Hunter were the biggest patsy on earth. “She’s a stripper who does the bump and grind after hours, if you know what I mean. Any stalker of hers was a paying customer.”

  “Maybe. All the more reason to stalk her. He had a taste, and now he wants more.”

  “You want my opinion? She bumped off her old man so she could bump and grind without interference.”

  “She said she thought he was breaking in and that she killed him by accident.”

  “And you believe her?”

  Hunter shrugged. “There’s no evidence against her. You knew that already, so why’d you send me there?”

  “Because I want some evidence! Something concrete!” he snapped, exasperated. “I thought you might be up to the task.”

  It was a back-handed compliment in a way. No one else had been able to get Ortega what he wanted. He’d hoped Hunter would. “So, you want me to manufacture evidence?”

  That pissed Ortega off, as it was meant to. “Get the hell out of here,” he growled.

  “How would you protect someone against a stalker?”

  He snorted. “Stick to them like glue and hope the perp gets locked up for some other crime before it’s too late.”

  Not exactly a ringing endorsement for the efficacy of one-on-one protection. “You think stalkers ever get cured?”

  “No,” was Ortega’s blunt answer, and though Hunter knew better than to listen to everything his opinionated boss said, he silently agreed on this one. The sergeant gave him a hard look. “Something bothering you?”

  Hunter didn’t know whether to bring up Jenny or not. “A lady being pushed by her ex-husband.”

  “Pushed?”

  “Meaning he’s on the scene, pushing, after a fifteenyear absence.”

  “Christ, Calgary. This is about that Holloway woman. I knew better than to send you that FedEx package!” He shook his finger in front of Hunter’s nose. “I know your history. Better leave that bastard Troy whateverhis-name-is alone.”

  “That bastard killed my sister.”

  Ortega folded his arms. “No evidence is really a bitch, isn’t it?”

  “Anything else?” Hunter asked, his own temper rising.

  “Just get your smelly rodent friend outta here.” He waved in the direction of the front door. “Hell, the way it’s raining, he’ll probably be back by dawn.”

  “I’m getting Obie settled for a while.”

  “Don’t count on it,” was the sergeant’s glum prediction.

  Hunter walked out stiffly. He knew Ortega only criticized him for his own good, but it got under his skin just the same. He had to switch off his bad attitude as he swung into the Jeep, however; the stench allowed for nothing but full attention. Drawing in a shallow breath, Hunter threw the Jeep into gear, stopping on the way out of town at a store that specialized in outdoor equipment. He managed to squeak inside just before it closed for the night. Loading up on gear, he hauled it out to the car and tossed it in the back. All the way to Obie’s living quarters, the happy recipient couldn’t stop thanking him for the sleeping bag and Coleman lantern and waterproof tarps.

  “You are a prince among men,” Obie declared as Hunter and Rawley helped him get situated.

  An hour and a half later, with Obie settled in, a new tarp covering his leaky tent, the soft glow of the lantern escaping from a myriad of holes, like fingers pointing every which way into the dark night, Hunter, Rawley, and Benny started back, windshield wipers slapping out a rhythm.

  “Why do you take care of him?” Rawley asked curiously.

  “Sometimes people need a little extra care.”

  “Sergeant Ortega doesn’t like him.”

  “Sergeant Ortega doesn’t like anybody,” Hunter pointed out.

  Rawley nodded, looking older for a moment than his fifteen years. “Are you trying to take care of my mom?”

  Now there was a loaded question. Not sure if Rawley’s amiable mood would last past the truth, Hunter said, “I like your mom. I don’t say that about many people.”

  “Kinda like Ortega?” He flashed a smile.

  “God, I hope not.”

  Rawley laughed, heard himself, immediately quieted. Hunter could read his mind. A relationship with Hunter meant betraying his father. There was no gray area for the kid and he was struggling to juggle everything and still keep to his own code of honor.

  They pulled up to the gate and Rawley punched the keypad numbers to slide back the gate. Hunter drove through and stopped in front of Jenny’s condo. There were two cars now instead of one. The Montgomerys had arrived. And Allen Holloway hadn’t left.

  Hunter, Rawley, and Benny entered with a wet whoosh of rain. Benny jogged over to Magda before Rawley could grab his collar and Benny dropped a dirty, wet paw on her lap.

  “Ohmigod!” she declared, more surprised than angry.

  “Get that dog out of here!” Allen yelled. His skin turned an ugly red.

  “I’m sorry, Magda!” Jenny jumped to her feet. “Come in the kitchen and let me help you. Bad dog, Benny,” Jenny scolded, but she couldn’t put any real threat in her voice, and the mutt just panted at her and waved his tail.

  Hunter was relieved to see she was acting more normally.

  Magda gazed down on the smudge. “It’s okay,” she said, as she followed Jenny into the kitchen. She winked at Hunter as she passed.

  Phil shook Hunter’s hand as Rawley hauled Benny away from the guests. “We’re going outside for a while,” Rawley muttered to no one in particular, then he and Benny returned to the rain. Jenny gazed after them, frowning.

  “So, I hear you’re a citizen of Santa Fe,” Phil said. “Small world, huh?”

  “Small world.” Jenny, or Allen, had undoubtedly filled them in with all the details. He glanced around, amazed by the amount of food displayed on the table. Dinner was long over but there were platters everywhere piled with colorful, spicy southwestern cuisine. If he’d been hungry at all, he would have been in heaven. As it was, he was lost in a swirl of thoughts, all of them centering around Jenny.

  The fierce scowl Holloway sent Hunter’s way couldn’t have been good for the old man’s blood pressure. “What is your role these days, Calgary?” he demanded.

  “Allen,” Jenny warned wearily.

  Magda seized the moment to break the tension. “Well, thank God!” she said to Hunter as she held out her arms for a hug. Hunter complied and Magda rolled her eyes in Allen’s direction. “It’s about time you got here. The party is simply nothing without you!”

  Phil sat back down on the couch, also holding a brandy. He plunked on a beret and tilted it over one ear. Though he tried for a jaunty appearance, his expression was slightly strained. “Magda made some margaritas earlier but I’m having a
brandy.” He lifted his glass in silent invitation.

  “Oh, sorry. Are you ready for one now?” Jenny said again, brushing hair away from her face. Her distraction was totally worrying.

  “Thanks,” Hunter accepted and she walked into the kitchen where an expensive bottle—supplied by Allen, no doubt—sat amongst the plates of food.

  “What a kick to have you in Santa Fe,” Magda said. “You should have told us!”

  “I should have said a lot of things,” he agreed, his gaze still on Jenny.

  She said quietly as she handed him his drink, “My father’s worried about Troy.” She was careful not to let their fingers touch during the exchange. Clearly she was just making conversation in front of her friends. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “You, too?” she declared. The automaton disappeared. He could hear suppressed hysteria in her voice.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Darling, we were waiting for you,” Magda said meaningfully to Hunter. “We didn’t want to leave until you got here.”

  Phil hurriedly climbed to his feet at Magda’s cue. Suddenly aware of the beret, he slid it from his head, then stared down at it as if he couldn’t understand where it had come from. He added under his breath, “It’s good you’re here.”

  Allen sipped his brandy and simply waited.

  Hunter realized he was tense, as if he was anticipating some kind of fight. Forcing himself to relax, he said, “We had to take a friend of mine home.”

  “You weren’t working on a case?” Phil asked with sudden eagerness. He seemed relieved by the change of subject.

  “Not really.” He wasn’t about to talk about Bambi de la Croix, and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about stalkers and murder and feeling afraid. But they were waiting for some explanation, so he said instead, “I had to talk to my old sergeant about a few things.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  Now, as Hunter looked around at the expectant faces, realizing they were hoping he would take their minds off whatever had transpired in the room before his appearance, he said simply, “We have a vagrant who appears whenever it rains and camps out on the police station steps. That’s about the extent of tonight’s crime wave. Rawley and I took him home.”

  “I wish Rawley would come back,” Jenny said suddenly.

  “He’s got that dog with him,” Allen said. “He’ll be fine.”

  “I just don’t like to think that he’ll go outside the gates.”

  “I’ll find him,” Hunter said, heading straight for the door. Stepping onto the porch, he’d just closed the door behind him when he saw the boy and the dog walking beneath the corner street lamp. Rain slanted downward, nearly veiling them. They were both soaking wet.

  Hunter eased himself back onto the porch, out of sight, aware that he could ruin the shaky trust Rawley had placed in him by one false move. Reopening the door he nearly walked into Phil and Magda.

  Magda grabbed his arm and dragged him back outside. “Her father’s scared the bejeezus out of her,” she whispered in a rush. “He said Troy killed your sister! Is that true, Hunter?”

  “Were you really working for Allen?” Phil asked, sounding disillusioned.

  “He was trying to keep Jenny safe!” Magda shot her husband a harsh glare, before turning urgently back to Hunter. “We understand and we’re with you all the way. Just do it, okay? Take care of her. Jenny always said Troy was a bastard, but I’m chilled. I mean it.”

  “So, Allen came to you and asked you to protect her?” Phil pressed.

  Before Hunter could respond, Magda cut him off again. “We love her, that’s all. And I’m glad I fell into your lap that time in Puerto Vallarta so that you two could get past all the nonsense and meet each other.”

  “Here comes Rawley,” Phil observed.

  Hunter glanced around. Head bent against the rain, Rawley was moving their way, Benny faithfully at his side.

  Magda squeezed his hand hard. “I’m glad you’re a cop, or ex-cop, or whatever. She needs someone in her life who’s looking out for her best interests. And it isn’t that father of hers. Allen Holloway manipulates everybody without even trying.”

  “I’m sure Hunter’s got the whole picture, Magda.”

  “He thinks money is all you need. Jenny doesn’t want any part of it, though.”

  “Magda…”

  “Hey, Rawley!” Magda greeted the boy. She would have scooped him into her arms but Rawley, sensing maternal hugging about to attack him, stayed ten feet out of reach, one hand on Benny’s collar. “Oh, don’t worry about him, honey. I can clean my clothes. There’s still plenty of food,” she added, holding up a huge sack. “I didn’t make a dent in it.”

  Rawley didn’t respond. Magda gave Hunter another hug, then she and Phil bent their heads against the rain and scurried to their Mercedes. Rawley stared after them, then up at Hunter who opened the door and silently invited him inside. Rawley hesitated, then swept past, a drenched Benny slipping through before Hunter could grab him again. Allen yelled, “Get the dog out of here!” and Jenny followed with, “Clean up his muddy pawprints, please, Rawley. And take off your shoes.”

  For once Rawley complied without complaint, dragging Benny to the bathroom for some paw washing and fur toweling.

  Jenny sat down quietly on the couch, as remote as the horizon.

  Now Hunter knew she was thinking about Michelle’s death. Now he knew what had kept her so distant and distracted.

  But would she be able to forgive him for keeping the truth from her yet again?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  She sat deathly quiet in the darkened living room. Allen had finally left after banishing Rawley to his room, railing to Hunter about everything from Troy Russell to preying on his daughter in her distraught state to keeping the truth about his sister’s death from her. It was Allen who explained that Michelle had been pushed from the rooftop. Allen, who told about Hunter tracking down Troy. Allen, who warned his daughter to start looking out for herself and stop being so trusting.

  He finally left only when he realized Jenny had stopped listening. She was lost in her own world, and neither Allen nor Hunter could penetrate her shell. Now, Hunter stood by the window and wished he could offer some help. He wished to high heaven that Allen had kept the information about Michelle to himself. Hunter hadn’t intentionally kept the aspects of his sister’s death from her, but he’d wanted to tell Jenny in his own way, in his own time. He knew she was frightened.

  “I wasn’t sure how to tell you,” he admitted now, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring into the black sky. The rain had momentarily ceased, but the sky still looked threatening. He was glad for the unusual weather. He hoped there would be enough to lift the trickling Santa Fe River into at least a gurgle.

  She threaded her fingers together. “You’re sure he killed her?”

  She wanted him to say no. She wanted him to give her some hope.

  “I can’t prove it, but yes.”

  “Troy’s a bully and he scared me the other day.” Her throat worked. “But he couldn’t murder someone. Not intentionally!”

  She looked away, outside the window. The moonlight colored her profile a soft blue. She was grasping at straws, and she knew it.

  “What did he do to you?”

  Jenny asked distractedly, “What?”

  “When he came by the other day. He did something to you. What?”

  “Oh …” She rubbed her throat with her hand. “He … kissed me.” She shuddered delicately with revulsion. “He pressed his mouth on mine so hard it hurt, and then he—touched me—grabbed me—in the—” Heaving a harsh sigh, she said through pressed lips “—in the crotch.”

  Hunter’s blood ran hot through his veins. He felt blinded with rage. Despite everything he knew about Troy Russell, he’d still believed the man wouldn’t attack Jenny.

  “It was quick,” she said. “He didn
’t want to be caught by Rawley. He just wanted me to know that he could overpower me, I think.”

  Hunter couldn’t answer. Anything he said might be construed as a vindictive attack on Russell, and he knew that Jenny didn’t need his own intense emotions fueling her fear.

  “It couldn’t have been an accident,” she said. Though she stated it as fact, she was hoping he would negate it.

  “My sister wouldn’t throw herself off a building in despair. She wasn’t that desperate, as far as I knew, although she didn’t tell me everything. I know he hit her, though. She had the bruises, but she lied about it. I couldn’t understand it.” He bit out the words. “I still can’t.”

  “I can.” Jenny’s lips quivered.

  Hunter froze, stunned.

  “She was ashamed.” She gazed at him across the darkened room. “Ashamed that she’d made such a terrible choice. Ashamed to have everyone else be right about him but her.”

  “I would have done anything to help her. She was pregnant, Jenny.”

  She flinched. “So was I.”

  “But you let your father help you.”

  “He bought Troy off!” she answered bitterly. “Your sister probably felt you would kill him.”

  This was so patently true that Hunter stopped cold. He’d wanted to squeeze the life out of the man singlehandedly. Only Troy’s clever sidestepping and accusations of harassment had kept Hunter from attempting just that.

  Jenny’s lashes fluttered closed. “I just don’t want to believe it, even though I know it’s true.”

  He crossed the room and clasped her hands. They were icy. Rubbing them with the pads of his thumbs, he said, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “I’m afraid for Rawley.”

  He nodded.

  With that she seemed to collapse in on herself. He twisted around and sat on the couch beside her, drawing her trembling body to him, half-sitting, half-lying, with Jenny draped over his right thigh.

  He wanted to tell her he loved her. The words seemed to whisper into the air, but they were unspoken. “I’m not leaving you,” he said instead. “Ever.”

  Her hands slid across his chest, and he tucked her close.