Page 26 of Lone Star Rescue

“What were you reading?” she asked, tipping her head to his phone. She didn’t come closer, but she seemed to want to get him to focus on something else other than her.

It was possible—no, damn likely—that he was gawking at her. Possibly drooling, too. And there was no way he could take the heat out of his eyes. Well, not while he was looking at her, so he tore his attention from her and put it back on his phone.

“It’s a report from Jericho,” he said. “There have been no unusual deposits in Gavin’s bank account, so the envelope Buckner gave him likely contained cash. No sign of Buckner either,” he let her know since Rafe knew she would ask.

Now, it was his turn to nod toward the phone she had gripped in her hand. “What about you? I heard you get a couple of texts while you were in the bathroom.”

She nodded. Sighed. “Updates on Patricia. She’s been admitted to a county psychiatric hospital for evaluation. She can’t be questioned until she’s classified as stable, and I have no idea when that will be. If ever,” she added in a mumble.

The worry and fatigue came, rushing over her and erasing some of the eased tension he’d seen in her right after she’d comeinto the bedroom. Rafe got up, went to her, and even though the heat was still stirring, he pulled her into his arms.

He didn’t try to offer her a light at the end of the tunnel by saying—of course, Patricia would recover enough to be questioned. And, that Patricia would have an explanation for why she opened fire on them.

But that might not be true.

Sometimes, people had full psychotic breaks, and that could be what happened to the woman.

“Gavin and her kids are with their grandparents,” Bree added. She didn’t move out of his arms. She stayed there, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Those kids have essentially lost both parents.”

That was true, and again, he didn’t offer up platitudes about kids being resilient and such. Because this would affect them, and down the road, they’d need the same answers that Bree needed now.

Such as why had their father died.

And why had their mother turned would-be killer?

“Someone provoked Patricia,” Bree insisted, and she lifted her head to look at him. Eye to eye. Breath to breath. “I’ve put in a request to get her phone records, but it’ll be tomorrow—”

“Jericho’s already checked,” he said. “She got and received multiple calls and texts from her parents and other family members. There were a couple of unanswered ones from Gavin’s boss and friends.”

“So, maybe someone in her family convinced Patricia that I’d killed her husband?” But she immediately shook her head, and her mouth tightened. “Buckner must have gotten to her somehow. Either a personal visit or even a letter that he planted for her to find.”

“If it was a letter or such, she didn’t report it to the SAPD cops,” Rafe let her know. “Of course, depending on whatwas said in the letter, Patricia might have thought all cops were dirty.”

Bree made a weary sound of agreement. “Maybe Buckner does have a dirty cop in his pocket. Perhaps someone tied to the investigation into Gavin’s death.” She lifted her phone, no doubt ready to make a call about that, but he gently put his hand over hers to stop her.

“My advice—let Jericho look into this. If you start asking about dirty cops, then SAPD might stop cooperating with you. You need them on your side right now since Gavin’s death was in their jurisdiction.”

He could tell she wanted to argue. That she wanted to do something now that would get her answers. But she sighed again, letting him know she understood he was right.

“Three people dead,” Bree grumbled, moving away from him so she could pace across the room. “Two yet unidentified. Multiple injuries. I still have two deputies on mandatory bedrest.” She squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “And I don’t know why any of this is happening.”

“Sure, you do,” Rafe insisted. “Your cop’s brain is spinning with the theory that starts with the bones. Someone killed that woman who might or might not be Tessa, and everything else that’s happened since is to muddy the waters and cover up his or her crime.”

She stopped pacing and stared at him. “Yes, that. But I don’t know who.”

“Buckner,” he quickly provided. “There has to be a reason he’s avoiding your calls.”

“He could be dead like Gavin,” she pointed out.

Rafe had gone there in his own theory and had dismissed it. “If Buckner’s dead, then who else is pulling the strings? It would have to be someone who could get to him, and he doesn’t impress me as the sort who’d let down his guard. Still, it’spossible,” he admitted after a pause. “And it’s why Jericho is doing one of his deep dives into any and all of Buckner’s family, friends, and acquaintances. If something is there, Jericho will find it.”

Again, she looked as if she wanted to argue about that. Or about anything. He understood that, too. Exhaustion could create a restlessness. It could also lower barriers that shouldn’t be lowered. He understood that when he saw the look in her eyes.

The heat.

Hell, it was there all right, and it was obvious from the set of her jaw, that she wasn’t any happier about it than he was.

She cursed under her breath. “I should have never danced with you at that party,” she grumbled.

---