Page 42 of My Cowboy Salvation
“There’s no way he’s not connected to both girls. But up until now, there’s been no one to fight for them.” I sigh and lean back in the chair. “I know it’s a long shot, but if we can find Samantha Bailey, prove foul play and a connection between her and Beaufort, then maybe we have a shot of tying him to Melissa and finally putting this guy away.”
“I’m already on it. But like you said, it is a long shot.”
“Yeah. You’re right. I just need to do—”
“It’s a long shot,” he says, interrupting me, “but I’ve never stepped away from a challenge. I’ll find Samantha and the connection. In the meantime, keep a careful watch over your charge.”
“Already covered. I’ve placed an off-duty deputy on her tail at all times, so she’s always protected. Not to mention my house has been outfitted with a security system your firm installed.”
“Still. The guy is slippery.”
Don’t I know it. But there’s something this guy doesn’t see coming.
Me.
Because I’m going to make sure he never gets a chance to hurt Dylan or anyone again.
* * *
Later that night,I pull up to the house, scanning the vicinity with a sharp eye for anything out of place. Other than a couple of recently carved Jack-a-lanterns sitting on the porch, all seems quiet.
Still, I head over to talk to my plain-clothed deputy who’s sitting in his car. I couldn’t very well abuse the goodwill of this town by using their money to fund Dylan’s security, not when there isn’t any proof of his presence in town. Instead, I’m bankrolling this extra security to any of my men who wanted to pick up some extra money in their off hours until I know otherwise. “How’s it going? Anything of interest to report?”
“No, Chief. Just the usual routine. She headed to the McCullough’s ranch and then home. Didn’t see any sign of someone tailing her either.”
“Thanks, Peters. Who’s relieving you tonight?”
“Bragdon.”
I nod. “Have a good night, then.” As I approach the house, I hear the strains of Dylan’s cello as she plays what sounds like a vigorous demonstration of Smooth Criminal. It’s haunting and beautiful and tells me all I need to know about her mood.
Since our talk the other morning, things have been strained between us. Agonizingly cordial. And I hate it, even though I know it’s how it has to be. Stepping inside, I catch her eye for a quick second before she closes them, effectively tuning me out. Her playing is incredible, and I’m hypnotized as I watch her work through an array of emotions in the rapture on her face, in the way she glides her bow and fingers across the strings, and in the music that feels like it’s almost stabbing me with its anger and sadness.
When she finally finishes and opens her eyes, I’m still standing at the front of the door, spellbound. Applause wouldn’t be enough.
“You’re home early,” she says, cutting me off before I can compliment her. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. I wrapped things early at the office and saw no reason to stick around.” That and Noah’s warning about Beaufort that I can’t shut out, but there’s no sense to add on more fear to what she already has. “I saw the pumpkins outside. You do that?”
“Felt we should have something to celebrate the season when the kids show up for trick or treating.”
Trick or treating? Was she insane? “There’s no way I can possibly allow you to do that, Dylan. You’d be opening the door to any stranger who might want to cause you harm.”
Her face drops. “I’m sure we can figure out a way to still let the kids come to the door.”
“Sorry, Dylan. I’m not taking that risk,” I say with an edge of finality.
God, what I want to do the most is rest my head on her lap, to feel the softness of her touch. Her grace.
Instead, I head past her. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
She doesn’t offer a response.
By the time I return, she’s gone upstairs. I pause, listening to the sound of water running. For a moment, I imagine her stripping her clothes off before stepping into the shower. Would she touch herself this time? Touch herself thinking about me?
Something in the way she looked at me with anger and resentment earlier tells me otherwise. I steel myself against the wave of sadness and loss at what we could have become.
But I’m a man who’s sacrificed his own interests and needs for most of my life. With time, this pain will ease, too.
