Joanna Wayne - Midnight Rider

“Then let’s get this rolling.”

She made the call while Cannon finished his beer and worried the salt shaker with his free hand. She could easily understand his being disturbed by the news he was almost certainly a father.

Fortunately, the lab was able to accommodate.

“They’ll see you at nine in the morning,” she said once she’d broken the phone connection.

“Where is this lab?”

“Not far from here.” She took a business card from her pocket and jotted down the street and web addresses of the lab on the back of the card before handing it to him. “You can get a map with directions at the website as well as pretest instructions about what you can and can’t eat or drink before coming in.”

“I can handle that. When will I get the results?”

“I’ll request a rush, but it depends on how backed up they are at the lab. We should hear in about three days.”

“That seems like long time for a rush.”

“It’s a very busy lab, but extremely reliable. You won’t have to stay in Houston. They’ll call you when the analysis is complete. Be sure to check the box on the form you sign for them that you want phone notification.”

Cannon took another swig of beer, scrunched his napkin and then turned his attention back to Brit. “Once you suspected I was the father, why didn’t you bring Kimmie to me instead of to the Dry Gulch Ranch? I don’t live there now and never have.”

“Your father was easier to locate.”

“Wrong answer. You’re a hotshot detective. You could have found me had you wanted to. I’m sure you checked out R.J. and me before you dropped off a helpless infant.”

Right again. He wasn’t as gullible as she’d expected and definitely not awed by her badge.

“I did investigate you, Cannon. You went into the Marines right out of high school. You list your uncle’s ranch near Midland as your permanent address, but he said you haven’t actually lived there in years. You have never been married and have no arrest record.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m trying to find Sylvie’s killer and I didn’t have time to chase you down at a rodeo. And I wasn’t about to leave my niece at a dirty arena with a bunch of sweaty cowboys and smelly livestock.”

“Don’t pretty it up on my account.”

“I’m sorry. I know this is new, but this has all been rather shocking to me, as well. Once I learned that your father lived on a large ranch surrounded by family, I decided they could handle taking care of Kimmie and getting you in to see me.”

“Fair enough, but if you disapprove of me and my lifestyle so vehemently, why drop her off at all? You could have raised her yourself. I didn’t know she existed.”

“That would have been illegal and unethical once I found that document. Besides, I couldn’t in good conscience ignore my sister’s written wishes.”

Not to mention that she’d tried caring for Kimmie and found it nearly impossible to work night and day on finding Sylvie’s killer, work the rest of her cases and take on the extremely demanding job of taking care of an infant.

She couldn’t begin to imagine how Cannon would handle it, but he was the father. He’d have to work out something.

“Where is Kimmie now?” Brit asked.

“At the Dry Gulch Ranch, but that’s temporary. I don’t have any ties with R. J. Dalton and I don’t want him in my daughter’s life—if I have a daughter. I’m far from convinced that I do, no matter what your sister wrote on some form.”

“The DNA testing will settle that.”

“It won’t settle what I’m supposed to do with her if the test comes out positive. I can’t take care of a baby. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you got my sister pregnant.”

“If I’d been sober and thinking, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. And, contrary to what you infer, it takes two to tango. I don’t push myself on women.”

“That you remember.”

Cannon emptied the glass of beer and set it down with a loud clunk. “I say we table the rest of this conversation until we know the results of the paternity test.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket, took out a few bills and tossed them on the table, then stood to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

“You haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’d prefer to eat where the air doesn’t crackle with animosity.”

She’d said too much. Her boss had warned her that if she gave her this case Brit would have to keep her emotions out of it. But she’d lost a sister she’d never gotten to meet, a sister who had left a precious baby behind.

The waitress arrived with the meal. Great timing. The overflowing plate of ribs, fries and coleslaw had an immediate effect on Cannon’s demeanor.

“I’m sorry for the last comment,” Brit said. “It was out of line. Stay and eat. Please.”

Cannon sat back down and ordered another beer. After that, he gave the food his full attention.

Brit waited until he bit the remaining shred of meat from the last rib before getting back down to business. This time she made sure to keep her tone nonaccusing.

“Can we start over?” Brit suggested.

He stared her down. “Will it make a difference?”

“Yes. If I could ask you a few questions, it might help with the investigation. I promise to maintain a civil tone.”

“That would be worth seeing.”

Brit did her best to put aside the irritation toward Cannon she’d been nursing for almost a week.

“I know you said you don’t remember much about the evening you met my sister, Cannon, but if I ask you a few questions, maybe it will trigger a memory.”

“Worth a try,” he agreed. “I’d like to help you. No one deserves to be murdered, especially not a young mother minding her own business.”

“Was Sylvie alone at the bar that night or with a friend?”

“I don’t remember seeing her talking to anyone else. That doesn’t mean she didn’t come in with someone.”

“Did she mention a boyfriend, maybe one that she was supposed to meet there or had recently broken up with?”

He shook his head. “Not that I remember.”

“Did she seem afraid or talk about being afraid?”

He hesitated, his facial expression grim as if he really was attempting to remember a useful detail.

“I’m sorry. I was dealing with some heavy stuff of my own that night. All I remember about your sister is that she was there, drinking beer and putting up with me. I’m not proud of this, but to be totally honest, I don’t even remember her being in the hotel with me.”

“Then she wasn’t still in the room when you woke up?”

“No. That I would have remembered. Did you question the bartender and waitresses who work there to see if they knew her?”

“I questioned everyone,” Brit said. “No one remembered either of you. But then it has been a year. Some had moved on to other jobs, some to other parts of the country.”

Cannon shifted in his seat, looked around until he caught their waitress’s eye and signaled for a check. Obviously he was eager to escape her and her questions.

She wouldn’t push further tonight. Cannon was probably too bogged down with worrying over the paternity test results to think about anything else.

Brit was convinced the test results would be positive. Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen. But she had to admit that she could see why Sylvie had felt an immediate attraction to the sexy cowboy. He was a virile, rough and tough bull rider with a Texas drawl and a piercing stare that could shake a woman to her soul.

Some women. Not Brit, of course.

* * *

BY THE TIME Cannon reached his hotel, he was dead tired and ready to crash. Even so, he doubted sleep would come quick or last long. He’d received bad news on top of bad news over the past twenty-four hours and the hits just kept coming.