Chapter Fifteen
Wade returned to the vet clinic with Mary, kicking himself along the way.
Hadn’t he vowed to keep his distance, and not get emotionally attached? Hadn’t he decided she was the wrong woman for him, with too much baggage, and he was too broken to make good choices about relationships, anyway?
Less than twenty-four hours after coming to this conclusion, he’d jumped at the chance to help her with her sick dog.
When she’d asked if he wanted to know her secrets, he’d said yes, please.
Clearly, he had some kind of mental block where she was concerned.
He wasn’t able to maintain his boundaries.
In his defense, he couldn’t have turned his back on her during an emergency.
She’d been teary-eyed and frantic. He also couldn’t refuse her offer to share personal details.
He’d been curious about her past from the moment he’d met her.
Now he was in a real bind, because her story changed his perspective.
She wasn’t enabling his mother’s addiction.
She didn’t even drink alcohol. She wasn’t a criminal.
She was a woman on the run from a violent ex.
The thought of her being abused by some dirtbag made Wade’s blood boil.
As an officer of the law, it was his duty to protect and serve.
He wanted Mary to be his woman. He wanted to protect her above all others.
Wade sat next to her, stewing in anger and hopelessness. The inability to fix her problems, or his own, weighed heavily on him. He wanted to pound her ex into a bloody pulp. He wanted to hunt him down and kill him.
After an indeterminable length of time, Dr. Munroe called them back to the exam room.
“Daisy’s doing well,” she said. “Her vital signs are good, and everything looks perfect on the X-rays. No issues with any of her organs. The lab tests are normal, as well. She doesn’t have any poison in her system. ”
Mary appeared relieved by the news.
“This may be an isolated incident that we never discover the cause of. Or it could be an early sign of epilepsy.”
“Epilepsy?”
“About one percent of dogs are epileptic and need daily medication to control seizures. If you notice another episode, we can get her started on meds. Until then, just keep an eye on her. Limit her activity for a few days.”
The vet handed Mary a pamphlet about epilepsy and contact information for a local nonemergency clinic for a follow-up visit.
Wade paid the bill with his debit card, and another staff member brought out Daisy.
The damned dog looked happy as can be. She wagged her tail and stretched out her front paws in a playful pose.
Mary sank to her knees and hugged the dog tight. Wade walked away from the tearful reunion, impatient to get on the road. He climbed behind the wheel and opened the hatchback. Mary followed with Daisy a moment later. The dog jumped into the back easily. She seemed fully recovered from the episode.
Mary settled into the passenger seat. “I’ll pay you back as soon as we get home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
Wade didn’t argue. “How old are you, really?”
“What difference does it make?”
“I need to know how long it’s been since you left your husband, so I can assess the threat, and plan accordingly.”
“No.”
“No? How am I supposed to protect you if I’m kept in the dark?”
“I don’t want your protection.”
“Then why did you tell me about him?”
“I thought I owed you the truth.”
“You said you were thirty-five. Is that the truth?”
She glanced away, pensive.
“Look, I don’t give a damn about your age, and I won’t even ask what your real name is, but the timeline is important.
You live on a remote ranch with my mother.
Whether you want my protection or not, you’re going to get it, and I have to know if it’s been ten years or six months since you left that asshole. ”
“I’m twenty-seven,” she said finally. “I left when I was twenty-five, and again when I was twenty-six.”
“You went back?”
“Not by choice. He found me.”
“How?”
She didn’t answer.
“Did you contact family? Use a credit card?”
“I had a fitness tracker.”
“A fitness tracker,” he repeated, incredulous.
“It gave a signal to my location. That’s why I don’t use a cell phone or any technology. I don’t want to leave a digital trace.”
“How did you end up in Lost Lake?”
She removed her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair. “I was working as a caretaker for an old lady in San Antonio. I already had Daisy and Chico. They came with me when I left. King belonged to the old lady. When she passed away, her daughter called an animal rescue. Guess who showed up?”
“My mother.”
“She offered me a ride to Lost Lake. By the time we arrived, she’d invited me to stay at the ranch with her.”
“When was this?”
“The end of January.”
Wade sighed, shaking his head. His mother couldn’t resist a pack of strays. “Where did you live before San Antonio?”
“Lots of different places.”
Wade knew she wasn’t from this area. He figured she’d traveled here from the Midwest. “Why did you come to Texas?”
“I wanted to be close to the border.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Now I have some questions for you.”
“All right,” he said.
“How’s your investigation going?” she asked.
Wade hadn’t expected her to ask him about work. He massaged the nape of his neck, considering. “I requested a forensic sketch but haven’t heard back. The autopsy was inconclusive.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we don’t know if he was murdered or just unlucky.”
“I talked to your mother about Billy today.”
Wade tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Of course you did.”
“She told me some things that I probably shouldn’t repeat.”
“Then don’t.”
Mary cast him an annoyed look. “You need to discuss it with her, Wade. She’ll never get over it if you don’t.”
“I’m the one who found him,” Wade said in an even tone, struggling to sound calm. “That experience will haunt me for the rest of my life, so she’ll have to forgive me if I don’t want to describe it.”
“She doesn’t want the grisly details.”
“What does she want?”
“The truth.”
Wade felt his face turn to stone. He wasn’t discussing this with anyone.
“She carries a lot of guilt about Billy, and how she wasn’t able to lead him in the right direction.”
“It’s hard to lead when you can’t walk a straight line.”
“She thinks you, or your dad, made Billy’s death look like an accident.”
Wade stiffened with shock. A cold wave of memories washed over him. “There are things you can’t talk about. There are things I can’t talk about. My brother’s death is off the table.”
“Was there something between Billy and Natalie?”
“Is that what my mother said?”
“She said he got in a bar fight over her. Defending her honor.”
“That’s not remotely true.”
“He also claimed that you harassed him and interfered with his dating life.”
“He wasn’t the victim,” Wade said in a low voice. “He got beat up by Natalie’s boyfriend because he followed her home from work one night, along with two of his friends. He harassed her.”
Mary’s brow furrowed in concern.
“After she told me what happened, I kept an eye on him. I was worried about him targeting other women.”
“Did he kill himself?”
“No.”
“Did you kill him?”
The question hit him like a gut punch. He couldn’t believe she considered him capable of murdering his own brother.
“I’d kill my husband if I got the chance,” she said helpfully.
“My mother thinks I killed Billy?”
“She thinks he killed himself.”
“Why? Because he threatened to commit suicide when he was younger?”
Mary’s lips parted with surprise. “You knew about that?”
“Yes.”
“Wynona said she didn’t tell anyone.”
“She didn’t have to,” Wade said. “He repeated it to me, and to my dad. He said a lot of extreme things to get his way.”
“It would help if you told her that. She feels like she failed him as a mother.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “It sounds like she blames me more than herself. She thinks I bullied him into suicide.”
“Maybe she needs to know all of it. What kind of person Billy was.”
“No,” Wade said. “She doesn’t need to know any of it.”
“Secrets keep people sick.”
“You’re the expert on that, aren’t you?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, saying nothing.
“The truth doesn’t always set people free, Meadows. Some secrets need to stay buried.”
Mary took the hint and dropped the subject.
Wade drove on in silence, a tension headache forming behind his eyes.
The weight of Billy’s death, and everything that had come after, settled heavily on him.
Wade turned on the radio to prohibit further conversation.
The dial was set to country-western stations.
Wade wasn’t picky about music, so he barely paid attention to the background noise.
He was more focused on his unsettled thoughts.
It occurred to him that Mary had revealed the bare-bones details of her past in order to get him talking about Billy.
Wade had used the same strategy himself, during police interrogations.
He should have seen it coming and avoided it.
Now he was in a tricky situation with his mother.
Would Mary repeat what he’d said about Billy? He needed to be ready, just in case.
He also needed an action plan for Mary. He still wanted her, against all good judgment, and his resolve was weakening every day.
He knew he shouldn’t pursue her, but keeping his distance was impossible.
They couldn’t avoid each other in the same house.
Her scent lingered in the hallways even when she wasn’t there.
He couldn’t stop fantasizing about taking her to bed.
If she gave him any encouragement, he would pounce.
On the radio, the opening notes of a popular song rang out. Wade recognized it as “Poison Rose” by Tripp Gilley. The lyrics described a woman with hazel eyes, skin like rose petals, and heart full of thorns.
Mary switched it off abruptly.
“You don’t like that song?”
“No.”