Joanna Wayne - Big Shot

Had he gone to both places looking for something in particular—like files on one of her cases? Had he found them, or had Bill Mackey frightened him away before he could fully search her condo?

Or was this someone Meghan had helped put away coming back to exact revenge?

At this point, those were all merely theories. Hopefully when Meghan was talking again, she’d be able to explain everything and identify the man who’d assaulted her and killed Ben.

Assuming they were one and the same.

Fortunately, the officer’s calls backed up everything Durk had told them. Once released, Durk made a quick exit before the CSU team arrived.

On his way to the car, he called the number the nurse named Jane had given him. As soon as he identified himself, she thanked him for having Lucy call them but still refused to release any information on Meghan.

He figured Pam might be more accommodating, but when he got her on the phone, all she could tell him was that his aunt was being admitted to the hospital for observation and further tests.

Which meant Durk would undoubtedly run into his mother before the night was over. She’d be a much tougher interrogator than the cops had been as to his involvement with Meghan.

One thing you could always count on as a Lambert: your secrets never stayed that way for long. Not that he had any reason to hide his past relationship with Meghan. They had been lovers for a while and then they weren’t.

The past was simple. The feelings churning inside him now were inextricably complicated.

Durk made a stop at his penthouse condo to take a quick shower and change from his bloody dress clothes into a pair of jeans, a blue pullover shirt and his boots.

He also took a couple of over-the-counter painkillers. What had started as a dull ache while he was still at the scene of the crime had burgeoned into a hammering throb at both temples.

By the time he made it back to the hospital, stars and a crescent moon were shining in the night sky. Not that they ever sparkled inside the Dallas city limits with the same brilliance as they did on the ranch.

It dawned on him as he parked that he’d never taken Meghan to the Bent Pine Ranch.

He climbed from behind the wheel and walked to the E.R. entrance, hoping to dodge interference and make his way back to the trauma unit on his own.

No such luck. Pam spotted him as he walked through the door. She waved from behind the glass partition and motioned him over to where she was talking to a patient.

“Give me a minute to finish here and I’ll be right with you,” she chirped. She looked back to her patient and handed the woman a clipboard. “Just fill this out while you’re waiting and sign the areas that are highlighted. Bring it back to the desk when you finish.”

As the woman walked away, Pam turned her full attention back to Durk. “I have a break due, so I can show you to your aunt’s room.”

“Actually, I was going to check on Meghan Sinclair first.”

She frowned. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a detective from the DPD waiting to talk to her. I expect he’ll get first dibs when the doctor says she’s up for visitors. And if you’re hanging around back there, he’ll likely question you, as well.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Durk said. “But thanks for the warning.” He smiled and walked away before she could join him.

Durk found Jane in the E.R. nurse’s station arguing with a tall man in jeans and a tan-colored sport coat. The guy looked to be in his early forties and easily as tall as Durk’s six-foot-two-inch frame. Hard body. Craggy, tan face. Thick sandy-colored hair that looked as if it had been held in place with a glue gun.

Jane looked up, her expression flashing relief when she saw Durk. “Here’s Mr. Lambert now.” She motioned Durk over. “This detective has been looking for you.”

“Has there been any change in Meghan’s condition?” Durk asked.

“All I can tell you at this point is that she’s being seen by the trauma medical staff, the same as I told Detective Sam Smart here. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I need to get back to nursing. That is what they pay me for.”

“I still need to talk to Ms. Sinclair the minute she’s able,” the detective said to her back as she walked away.

Jane didn’t respond.

The detective stared at Durk as if he were sizing him up for a new suit—or a fight. Durk figured he was going for intimidation. It didn’t work. He was a master at that himself.

“Glad to run into you here,” the detective said. “It will save me a trip to your house.”

“Is this concerning Meghan’s attack or her assistant’s murder?”

“Both.”

“So you’re in homicide?”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t waste any time getting started on the case,” Durk said.

“Time is seldom on a detective’s side in a murder case. So let’s talk.”

“Talk or interrogate me?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Is there a difference?”

“Quite a bit. If you want facts, I can tell you the little I know. If you’re going to interrogate me as a suspect, I should call my attorney.”

“I’m just after the facts—unless, of course, you have something to confess.”

“I already confessed to handling the possible murder weapon.” And he had nothing to hide. Unfortunately, he had nothing of any real value to add, either. If and when he needed an attorney, he’d get the best in the business. He didn’t see it going that far, especially since Meghan would vouch that he wasn’t her attacker.

Durk stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “So do we talk here in the middle of the noisy hallway or do you want to try for something a bit more private?”

Smart smirked. “Are you worried about being seen with a homicide detective?”

“Just trying to be helpful,” Durk said.

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

The detective led the way to a back exit. They stepped outside but didn’t venture away from the building.

Smart propped his shoulder against the wall. “How well do you know Meghan?”

“Reasonably well. We dated for several months two years ago.”

“Then I assume you’re aware of what she does for a living?”

“I know she’s a private investigator,” Durk admitted.

“She specializes in cases involving extremely dangerous criminals, the kind of cases best left to trained police officers.”

“And I hear she’s good at it,” Durk said. “So, what’s your point?”

“The point is that you’d be smart not to get involved in this case other than cooperating with me and the rest of the DPD.”

In other words, butt out. Durk had a real problem with ultimatums—unless he was the one issuing them. “What makes you think I’d get involved?”

“You might look like a cowboy, but I know all about you, Durk. You’re a powerful CEO. You’re used to being in charge and running things your way.”

“I’m noted for getting the job done, just like Meghan.”

“But you’re not used to dealing with murderers. Take it from me, they don’t play by any rules. This guy has killed once. He won’t hesitate to do it again if that’s what it takes to save his skin.”

“I plan to stay alive,” Durk said. “With or without rules.”

The groundwork of their tenuous relationship had been laid. The rest of the detective’s questions were routine and the interview was over as soon as the detective realized that Durk knew nothing about the cases Meghan was currently working.

When Smart left, Durk walked back inside. Jane met up with him right away.

“Dr. Levy would like to speak with you.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “When?”