Page 54 of Deadly Evidence
Brady studied the cabin for a few minutes. “Got any flashlights? I could sleep on the sofa in there, if it airs out enough by tonight.”
Mia shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you know how cold it gets at night now? You’ll freeze in there.”
“And that swaybacked old sofa would be awful,” Dante added.
“Then you should use one of the spare bedrooms up at the house.” Anna sent Brady a wry glance. “You certainly can’t stay out here without lights or heat.”
“I couldn’t do that, ma’am. It isn’t right to put you to that much trouble. I could camp on Dante’s floor...or Vicente’s. Or even out in the barn someplace.”
He spoke with such sincerity that she almost believed he meant it, despite their previous plans.
“Both guys are used to their privacy and the barn’s too drafty.” She rested her hands on Lacey’s shoulders. “Honey, come on up to the house and help me get a room ready. He can have the room Vicente was in for a while. It’s down a hall by itself, where he’ll have some peace and quiet away from the rest of us.”
Over her daughter’s head, she met Brady’s eyes. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Thanks. I’ll grab what I can from my cabin—if my things aren’t too smoky—and bring them up in a few minutes.”
She nodded to Dante. “I’ll be out in the barn in a half hour, if you want to start saddling some colts.”
Dante headed for the barn, and she turned toward the house. Brady had pulled off his little plan without a hitch.
He’d now be up at the house at night, watching over everyone there. His presence would be reassuring, considering her concern for Lacey’s safety.
But one disturbing thought kept resurfacing as she walked.
Brady Coleman had just been totally believable from beginning to end—as believable as any Oscar winner on the silver screen. She’d need to keep that in mind.
He’d been affectionate, he’d kissed her and held her close.
He’d given her comfort and reassurance.
But he also had a clear agenda that involved fitting into life at this ranch and appearing to be close to her.
And nothing that he’d said or done was real.
CHAPTER TEN
Since Brady had moved in today, Anna expected to see him at the house after supper. She’d imagined awkward moments that hinged on the crazy sense of awareness she felt whenever he was near.
But after he moved some of his clothes into the spare room, he went out to the barn and didn’t come in for supper.
More surveillance, she suspected, though he rarely told her when he was coming or going at night and never shared what he saw.
During the day, he was just another hand fixing fences and doing other chores. At night, he was a phantom who disappeared into the darkness. Didn’t the man ever sleep?
At three in the morning she heard the back door hinges creek and the scrabbling of Mojo’s toenails across the kitchen floor.
Given the dog’s sweet nature, that could mean that either a best friend or a serial killer had just come inside.
In her robe and already reaching for the rifle in her closet, Anna caught the sound of Brady’s low voice calming the dog—who’d surely retrieved some item to carry in her mouth as a welcome offering.
Setting the rifle back in the closet, she wrapped her robe around herself and cinched the belt tight, then went to the kitchen.
Only the light over the stove was on, and in the dim yellow glow, Brady looked unshaven and more than a little dangerous, given his size.
Until he held up his hand. “This yours? Mojo seems to think I should have it.”
Anna blinked and focused on the pink cloth dangling from his forefinger.
