Page 32 of Christmas Ransom

“Carla.” The way he said that one word had her heart battering her rib cage.

“Has something happened?”

He cleared his voice. “Sorry, no, that is...I know you mentioned earlier how anxious you are to come back to work, but unfortunately, until the FBI’s investigation is finished, I have to put you on administrative leave. You’ll still be paid.”

Unless I’m found guilty of being involved in the robbery, she thought. Then she would have to pay all of that back. That was the least of her problems, since she hadn’t been involved. But could she prove it?

“I understand,” she said, her voice breaking. She’d already lost so much, and yet her credibility and now her job hung in the balance? Not to mention her life.

“Also, I’d appreciate it if you shred those copies I gave you,” he said, dropping his voice. “I’d just as soon no one knew about that.”

“Of course. I didn’t find anything anyway. But thank you for trying to help me.” She disconnected and fought the sudden rush of tears. She’d almost lost her life and now she’d lost her independence. She would never feel safe again if the man wasn’t caught. What if the federal agents felt they had enough evidence to charge her as an accomplice to the robbery and subsequent murders?

Fighting her growing fear, she finished packing. How was she going to get through the holidays? The FBI suspected her, Davy thought she was still in danger and, if that wasn’t enough, how could she spend so much time with the man she’d almost married ten years ago and not fall in love with him all over again?

As if on cue, Davy came through the door smelling of the wintry outdoors. There were snowflakes in his hair and his dark eyelashes. He was flushed, his blue eyes sparkling. He stole her breath—just as he’d stolen her heart all those years ago. It wasn’t as if she’d ever gotten it back.

Chapter Seventeen

Back at the office, while Carla unpacked upstairs, Davy called the delivery company with a fictional story about wanting to give their usual driver a Christmas gift. He asked for the names of the drivers who covered her neighborhood, and the woman said she’d have to get back to him.

As he hung up, James came in and he filled him in. His brother fell silent for a moment. “Are you that sure Carla is still in danger?” he asked.

Davy turned to look at his brother. He’d heard something in his tone, making the question more loaded than it might have sounded to someone else. “What are you asking?”

James raised his hands in surrender. “Has there been another threat made against her?” Obviously aware of the answer, he quickly continued. “So the killer could be miles from here by now.”

“Or only as far as Butte,” Davy snapped.

“I’m just asking about your endgame because I care about you. It’s great that you want to protect her, but for how long can you do this?”

“If you’re saying that I’m using this situation to be with her...” He saw that it was exactly what his brother was saying. He shook his head, feeling his anger flare inside him. “Why would I do that? Carla made her feelings clear ten years ago. Nothing has changed.”

“Exactly,” James said. “That’s why we’re worried about you.”

“We’re?So you’veallbeen discussing my life?” he demanded as he raked a hand through his hair and angrily began to pace the room.

“Davy, we love you. You’re like a brother to us.” James’s attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. “Come on, we just don’t want to see you get hurt again. We never want to see you that brokenhearted. We’re concerned that being thrown together like this... You aren’t falling for her again, are you?”

Davy stopped pacing and laughed as he turned to face his brother. “There’s no need to fall for her again. I’ve never stopped loving her,” he said and left the office before his brother could ask how Carla felt about him.

CHRISTMASEVEWASbusier than usual. Jud knew that the time he’d spent driving out to Carla Richmond’s house and screwing around had been part of it. Mostly it had been all the packages that just had to get delivered before Christmas morning—which meant he had to work until his truck was empty.

He hated the holidays. Did people really need all this stuff? His mother would have said he was jealous. He didn’t even want to think about his Christmas mornings as a boy. A sad-looking store-bought tree with several branches missing because his mom had gotten a deal on it. Under the tree was always worse.

The year he was eight, she’d gotten him a can of black olives. When he’d cried, she’d said, “But I thought you liked them.”

It was dark by the time he returned his truck, left behind his hooded coat with the company’s insignia on it, pulled on his ragged jean jacket and walked to where he’d parked his pickup earlier that morning. His entire body hurt, from the soles of his feet to the top of his head and all the way down his back.

All he could think about was a beer and Jesse. If he was lucky, she’d be in a good mood after he told her that he’d scoped out Carla’s house and then she’d make him feel better. He realized that he hadn’t bought her a present and tomorrow was Christmas. He’d been afraid to use the money. Not that he would have known what to get her anyway. She wasn’t like the other women he’d known. She didn’t care that much about clothes or jewelry.

When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what she cared about other than money. Well, he’d gotten her a ton of cash, hadn’t he? Maybe he’d go pick up a bag from the hiding place in the cave and dump it in the middle of the living room and they could roll around in it. Jud smiled at that idea. Jesse had been in such a dark mood the past few days he was almost afraid of what he would find when he got home.

He was a few feet from his pickup when one of the dark shadows moved. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t have time to react before the man he knew only as Wes had him in a beefy-armed headlock.

“What the—”

Wes tightened his hold, cutting off the rest of Jud’s words. “Fletch was arrested after he tried to spend one of those twenties you gave us.”

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