Cat Schield - Lone Star Secrets

“Jason asked too many questions and discovered too much.”

“So you killed him.” The declaration rasped from her raw throat as grief nearly overwhelmed her. “Are you planning on killing me, too?”

“I could never harm you. You belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to you,” she shot back, the very idea filling her with dread. But then curiosity got the better of her once more. For months she’d brooded over why he’d picked her. Had he glimpsed some weakness and exploited it? “Was it all just a big game for you?”

He didn’t answer but she sensed she’d surprised him. Whether by her question or the bitterness with which she’d delivered it, Megan didn’t know.

“Come with me and I’ll show you how important you are to me.”

His cajoling tone transported her to those first days of their courtship when he’d swept aside her reservations with a barrage of romantic words and sweet gestures. Her treacherous heart began to pound. She knew her feelings for Rich were based on a farce, but opening herself to love had transformed her.

Where once she’d avoided romance and sentimentality, falling for “Will Sanders” had been magical and had filled her with wonder. To have it all eventually turn to dust had returned her heart to a Popsicle.

Megan shook her head. “You’ve lost your mind if you think I’d leave town with you.”

Little by little during their exchange, Megan’s right hand had been making slow progress toward the side pocket in her purse where she kept the pistol she’d bought in case of an encounter just like this one. Neither its compact size nor its pink-pearl grip detracted from the gun’s reliability and stopping power. She’d bought the pistol in the days following Will’s reappearance in Royal. Living alone and working late, she’d imagined this scenario hundreds of times, but now that she was here, Megan wondered if she was equipped to shoot Rich in cold blood.

“My life is here,” she continued, thumbing off the safety and curving her fingers around the grip as Rich took a step in her direction.

“Your life is here...or is it all about Will?” Rich sneered. “You’re a fool if you think he could ever love you. I’ve seen you with him and know why you haven’t filed for divorce. You’re hoping he’ll eventually come to love you. But that won’t happen.”

“You don’t know anything.” Driven by emotions she couldn’t define, Megan pulled out the gun and pointed at him. “Don’t come any closer.”

Rich’s eyes widened satisfactorily before he began to laugh. “You’re not seriously going to shoot me with that tiny thing?”

“I won’t if you back off and let me go.” She tried to ignore how badly her hands were shaking and hoped Rich wouldn’t notice. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He took another step forward and, without thinking, she pulled the trigger. The explosion shattered the quiet night and shocked Megan. There was only ten feet between her and Rich—she’d consistently hit the target at the range from twice that distance—but she hadn’t been aiming for the center of his body. When he spun to the left and before she could wonder if she’d struck him, Megan bolted for her car.

She didn’t look back as she slid behind the wheel and fired up the engine, but as she put the car into gear, her door jerked open. Rich’s wild eyes blazed down at her. Megan’s heart hammered in her throat, blocking a cry. Instead of pulling the door closed, she shoved it away, banging it into Rich’s lower half as she gunned the car. The scream of tires on pavement drowned out her panicked keening.

For a heartbeat Rich held on to the door as Megan pushed down on the accelerator and then he was gone. Panting from fright and exertion, she made a right-hand turn out of the parking lot, the momentum causing her door to slam shut.

Fortunately there was no traffic on the side road that led to Royals Shoes because Megan’s only concern was to put as much distance between her and Rich as possible. She glanced at the pistol resting on the passenger seat. Thank goodness she’d bought the gun and practiced shooting it. Still, she couldn’t believe she’d actually used it against Rich. And she’d hit him. Not badly, since he’d been able to chase her down and try to pull her out of her car. But she’d demonstrated her ability to take care of herself.

Megan couldn’t settle on an emotion. Part of her rejoiced that she’d gotten away from a madman unscathed. Yet another was shocked at her lack of remorse for having fired a gun at another human being. And deep down inside was the fear over what sort of monster Rich had turned her into.

As if on autopilot, her car negotiated the roads that led to the sheriff’s office. She’d spent far too much time around police lately, but couldn’t imagine heading home where she ran the risk of encountering Rich again before reporting that he’d tried to accost her.

“Call Will,” she commanded to her car. As ringing poured through the expensive speakers, she fought to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Hey, Megan, I was just thinking about you.” His deep voice penetrated the final thread holding her emotions under control and she started to shake.

“R-Rich...”

“Are you okay?” His concern came through loud and clear.

“He came after me.”

A sharp curse and then, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She dragged in a ragged breath and shook her head. “I think I shot him.”

Silence followed her declaration before Will spoke again. “Where are you?” The question came briskly, filled with impatience.

Ahead of her were the familiar downtown stores and the Royal Diner. Except for the diner, the buildings were dark, enhancing Megan’s isolation.

“In my car.” Her jaw was so stiff she was having trouble speaking. “Heading to the police station.”

“I’ll meet you there.” A pause. When he next spoke, his tone was soft and heavy with worry. “You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Megan disconnected the call, shocked by how much better she felt. Will’s support during this difficult time had never wavered. He was the rock she clung to in the whitewater that had become her life and she found herself relying on him more and more.

To her relief, a visitor spot was available right in front of the door leading into the sheriff’s office. Megan came to an abrupt stop, the Porsche’s front tires bumping against the curb. For a second she stayed where she was, car running while she scanned the sidewalk to make sure Rich wasn’t moving to intercept her. Deciding he’d be a fool to track her to the station, Megan exited the car and hurried toward the building.

When she burst through the front door, tears burned her eyes. Damn. She hated giving in to the weakness. Her emotions were running away with her again and she must have looked a sight as she set her hands on the reception desk.

“Is Sheriff Battle here?” she asked the woman manning the front desk. “Richard Lowell just attacked me outside my office.”

The woman’s eyes widened but her voice remained calm and professional. “He’s not, but Special Agent Bird is in the conference room. I’ll get him for you.”

Megan took a seat on one of the cold, plastic chairs in the reception area and clasped her purse on her lap to keep her hands from shaking. At this hour the sheriff’s office was nearly deserted and a dull despair swept over her as adrenaline ebbed from her system. Chills racked her body. With each minute that ticked by, her muscles grew stiff until she doubted she could stand without falling over.

What was taking the FBI guy so long?